Monday morning is hereby cancelled by order of hangover. We struggled down to the restaurant for lunch, thought a laksa might bring me to life but hotel version not the greatest. Back upstairs for a nap and a massage: I got the wonderful gentle one, L got tortured. Boarded a metro train to the next stop, a weird busy mix of shopping and food. We headed for a hot pot restaurant, a place where everyone sits around big pots of boiling soup, plonking skewer after skewer in, eating lots and lots. Chicken, pork, vegetables, tripe, tofu, eggs, pigs blood, sheep brains. The 10 of us had two pots, one full…

Rose early for the big fat Chinese wedding. The plan was for the boys to be on the road to the bride’s house by 9, but some things are cross cultural: when the bride’s hair and make-up isn’t ready, everyone waits. The cars for the groom’s party arrived and we piled in, briefed for our roles but still not prepared for all that comes with a wedding. We knewthat we’d be trailed by a camera crew, but didn’t realise they’d be driving alongside the entourage, hanging out of windows and sun roof, filming as we weaved through the traffic. Arriving at the bride’s house, no one told us we’d be…