Across Continents

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Knock at the door

A knock at the door. The Police. Accompanied by the hotel receptionist. I’d a shrewd idea what this was about. Aliens registration. The requirement to be registered with the local Police within twenty four hours of arrival. The responsibility of your host. Not mine.

I was in the town of Changwu. Found a small hotel for the night. Friendly bunch, but, you sensed, not that familiar with dealing with foreigners. Confident I knew the drill better than they did, and I was happy to help.

But, presented with the registration form, in both English and Simplified Chinese, and the certainty they’d have absolutely no idea what I might put down, temptation got the better of me. Just a little you understand. Did the important bits properly. Even signed it. Sort of. Friends had suggested it. Suffice to say Walt Disney would have been proud.


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