I arrive in Guiyang airport with the instructions "a lady around 5"3 will meet you, she speaks good English". Brilliant. I always thought that all Chinese people look the same. Turns out they do. Anyway she finds me, maybe because I am the only person in the airport that was not Chinese. I was wondering why people kept coming up to me and starring at me while I was getting my luggage. I have since found out this is going to be the theme of my stay in China.
Guiyang is a small city in China city sizes. For me it was huge. And lonely.

I hate Guiyang. I hate the people, the food, the city. So I am left with 2 options and very little money. Go home, or go to Beijing.

After a night in the most expensive hotel in Guiyang (not by choice, a taxi driver dropped me at the bottom of a little side street and left me, with my stupid amount of luggage. Really should start throwing things away.) Anyway, 2 pairs of slippers, a sniff at the complimentary breakfast and 20 cigarettes, I re-packed my case and headed to the airport. Not before a tearful call to my mother to tell her I hated everyone, and life.
No first class this time. I am thrown in to the lions den. It is the hottest day of the year, the Chinese do not believe in deodorant, and here I am, in the middle of the smallest plane in Asia, with half the population of China. OK, maybe I am slightly over reacting.