Beijing, 2004

We went to see the Forbidden City. What can I say? I would not call it a bomb. Crowds everywhere and not much to see: endless, slightly dull courtyards flowing one into the next, and then, oops, the palace is over. “Is there really nothing better to do in Beijing than this cultural violence against ourselves?” we cried, and trudged across Tiananmen Square, past Chairman Mao’s mausoleum, to a restaurant that has been serving Peking duck since 1864 and has almost reached perfection.