If sometime around 1979 you happened to walk past a group of nine year old boys in Britain calling each other ‘pooftah’ in outrageous Chinese accents, running amok with broom handles and blowing on their waving hands then it was sometime past six o’clock on a Friday.
Though I’m inspired as much now by other parts of the world it was China that first infiltrated my travel dreams and I think I’ve finally nailed down the reason why. It is Monkey’s fault.
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