Not very Michael Palin

I’m afraid I told a rickshaw driver where he could go with his bloody rickshaw. I’d told him I didn’t need one already. So what’s the point of following me and mithering me even more? I’m hardly going to say, “Oh, actually you’re right, I do want to go somewhere. It had completely slipped my mind! Thanks, let’s go”.

For the last three weeks I’ve been nagged and nagged and nagged mercilessly: postcards, picture books, tourist maps, little terracotta figures, those magnetic bean things, military medals, Mao buttons-badges-posters (you name it). Hey, everyone’s got to make a living but why can’t they take “no” for an answer?

It’s like being bitten by mosquitoes. One’s no problem, a minor irritation. But they just keep coming. And the more of them you squish or swipe, the more that turn up to have a nibble. And that buzzing, the buzzing that seems to come from nowhere!

The worst was at the Terracotta Army and the tour guides there. As you’d expect, they spoke good English but, weirdly, none knew the word “NO”. By the time I’d made the twenty minute walk from the bus stop to the entrance of the actual site, I was pretty hacked off. The final would-be official guide was quite staggeringly rude, implying I was too stupid to appreciate the exhibit without her help (how could a mere westerner possibly understand the complexities of Chinese history?) We had words; her last, spoken with real venom, were “I hope you live to regret it”.

Yes, welcome to the Eighth Wonder of the World from your friendly representatives of the Chinese government.

It’s not been the only thing that’s wound me up recently either. Take queues – or the absence of them. Up to now I’ve been pretty philosophical about the scrum to get on the bus. It’s just a different culture, a different way of doing things, nothing to get hung up about. But when you’re in a queue of just two people and a third person pushes in front, you start to wonder what the hell is going on? And what’s the point of pushing in a queue boarding a plane for god’s sake? Your seat’s reserved so what do you achieve by shoving others out of the way? Or, this is the best, why would you jostle and push in the line as it shuffles its way past Chairman Mao’s pickled body? Wouldn’t you actually want to hang back a bit and prolong your visit rather than hurrying to the other side of the hall as quickly as possible? In single file, everyone gets exactly the same view, you’re not allowed to stop to gawp or take pics, so why shove the person in front?

Why, why, why?

Does Michael Palin, ambassador for everything thoroughly British and good, ever lose his temper? Does he get ripped off in restaurants where the ‘English’ menu bears no resemblance to the local one – in either choice of food or prices. Does he get pissed off with having to haggle for absolutely everything: “But I haven’t got time to haggle!” Does he perhaps tire of people in restaurants not just casting a curious glance but staring fixedly at the apparantly amazing sight of a foreigner? Does he ever wonder where the line is between being respectful of other people’s culture and just having the piss taken out of you?