And so we say farewell.

Yes, my one reader, I'm coming home. After three months in the Paris of the East, it's time for Andy B to go home again to the land of pubs, warm, flat beer and quite a lot of bastards (in my worldwide travels I've noticed that they're everywhere).
But hold fast (I'm Edwardian) I still have four days left. Four days to say goodbye to all the friend I've made over here (the barman at The Kangaroo). Ha ha ha ha ha. Only joking. There's lots of nice people at work and I'm hoping to bid them all fond farewell in time honoured fashion. Yes, a traditional Chinese tea drinking ceremony in the Yuyuan Gardens followed by floating traditional Cherry Blossom  Xiangyuas (a sort of small boat) onto the Huangpu to symbolise moving on and then we all sing a traditional Chinese Song of the Double Happiness Return.
Actually sod that. I'm off to the Kangaroo to drink traditional beer, play traditional pool and start to believe that , over the time it's taken to drink three pints, I have somehow become charming, hilariously funny and Brad Pitt. Then polish the whole splendid evening off by traditionally getting run down by a 9ft pile of carboard on a tricycle. With a man somewhere in it.
It literally does not get better than that.
Fact.

Me wistfully contemplating the busy metropolis that is is Shanghai, whilst simultaneously balancing one end of the Lupu bridge atop my big fat head.

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