I wasn’t doing anything as I stood on the corner of People’s Square in Shanghai. I was just looking at a map. But in China that is the equivalent of sending up a distress flare. People flock around you, clamouring to help. You insist you know where you are but they – it is part of their ancestral wisdom – know better.

An amazed and amazing day, my first full one in China, began when a young man and girl swirled up to me, chirping, “Hello, are you lost? Are you English? Where are you from? How long are you in China?” They were both about 19 years old, she a moon-faced gamine with large eyes, he a lean-faced youngster who couldn’t stop talking. My map wilting in my hand, my protestations that I wasn’t lost totally ignored, they said: “We are going to a tea ceremony. Will you come with us?” So I went.