I want our mam, the dog and central heating.

Snivel snivel. Today I am hating China. Hating not being able to communicate with anyone. Hating the cold - oh my god, it is sooooo cold here. I am wearing all of my hiking gear. This morning, when I got dressed to go out I put on my long-johns, jeans, hiking socks and boots, thermal top, 2 fleeces, a woolly hat, gloves and a hiking jacket. What the hell happened? A couple of days we were discussing how mild it was and that we would soon need to put the fleeces away for a bit. Hating the fact that everywhere we go somewhere new it is such a hassle to get hot water to come out of the shower, if at all. Hating the fact that people phlegm EVERYWHERE. Hating the fact that ordering food is a mini-mission in itself unless you can point at a picture of the food if not the food itself. Hating the fact that everyone stares at us everywhere we go. Not just a furtive look whilst you're not looking, but blantantly pointing you out and laughing at you with their friends (even when I'm not dolled up in the garb mentioned above). Hating the fact that we still haven't found anywhere to wash our smalls (and it's too cold to wash them ourselves as they'd never ever dry). Also hating the fact that, even after queuing for nearly an hour in a huge queue of smoking queue-jumping staring phlegmers, we still only managed to get a train ticket to Kunming for tomorrow - 2 days after our planned departure so we've had to stay 2 nights in the freezing huge faceless city of Guiyang against our will and fork out lots in accommodation (4.50 quid each per night) for the pleasure. Sniff, sniff. Woe is me, I know. I have really been the angel of doom today and hid in my bed crying when the shower wouldn't come on. Can I put it down to recovering from this cold? Anyway, I've updated my last 3 blog entries below with some photos - mam, you'll especially like the ones of Steven and Moni et al. Dad, you'll probably enjoy the goose feet piccies.
Kunming tomorrow, city of eternal spring, apparently. Had better be otherwise I'm heading for pneumonia in this infernal phlegmy cold place. (Can you have an infernal cold place? Answers in the comments please).
Can someone send me an emergency parcel of proper chocolate, hot bacon sandwiches and a radiator please (they don't have heating here, even though it's around 0 degrees here at the mo).
I leave you with an important question that the man on the TV advert here keeps posing: Can you imagine the wonder of the combination of a pillow and tea?

Can you?

I think I'm losing it.