The train left on time and the music piped up straight away; a symphonised version of 'Only You'. The Express didn't travel much faster than a tube train, but at least it didn't stop at all the outlying, passenger-laden platforms. After Lo Wu, it was China. Bicycles waited at every railway crossing, track-layers worked manually; there were no cranes and they even pulled a cart full of stones for the bedding. A cup of tea meant little storks and fingernail-sized leaves on the bottom of a cup to be filled with boiling water. The drink was wet, but it left my mouth with a dry taste that needed a can of Coke or bitter lemon to lubricate the throat and properly quench the thirst.
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