Greetings from my turf.  A trip that started out as one thing and turned into 3 others, with an added plot twist at the finish, has come to an end.  I arrived home to a hot (but not at all humid) summer’s day, and slept in my own bed and listened to wind in evergreens rather than traffic, and song birds rather than cicadas. I’ve a couple more stories to tell about Beijing itself, but I’ve noticed some strange things about traveling to such a distance I thought I would share first.

The flight from Beijing to and from Vancouver is about 11 hours. The time difference is 15 hours (Beijing is ever-so-slightly in the future). The greatest time difference I’ve coped with in the past is the 8 hours between the UK and the PNW, and I wondered if I would suffer much, especially considering I was only there a week or so.  Oddly, in both directions, I found the traveling day very easy, had no problem staying up to a reasonable bedtime, and arising at a reasonable time on Day 2.  Ah… but then Night 2 was a different beast altogether, and I wondered if the body wants to fight the urge adopt a new pattern– it will happily allow you a one-off (for those 3:00 am parties) but don’t try mess with the schedule.  It reminded me of my thoughts about transporting exotic birds.

The oddest thing about sleeping in a foreign land, or returning to your bed after such a trip, is the dreams.  I had the oddest dream episodes, one about an old friend in such an odd situation that I had to send a text describing my dream before it drifted apart. Last night my dreams included my father, still alive in the present day, taking me and my family on a last-minute train trip across Canada; and then me driving in Vancouver (this veers into nightmare territory for me) where I spent time with new friends of a naughty nature.  I also had my dog with me, a dog gone now almost 20 years. In all cases the dreams mixed old and new, fact with fancy, strangers with family.

Much like Beijing, come to think of it….