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The first thing that Jodie gave me was a card with her apartment’s address (in Chinese) on one side and a map of the location on the reverse. A very handy item to be carrying when visiting a city where they don’t speak a lot of English.

Jodie is living in the Chaoyang district in the middle of Beijing, quite near Embassy Row – a street lined by the Embassies of various countries, including the U.S. and U.K. ones.

The road is long and straight, divided by a beautiful park, which just happens to have a bar inside next to a lake so Jodie asked if I wanted to visit the park?

Sounded good to me. A bottle of Heineken at £2 a time didn’t seem unreasonable in such a beautiful surrounding and after a tiring flight, a good way to recover and relax.

Later, we went to a western restaurant – well did you really expect me to eat local?

Sunday was champagne brunch day with all the champagne and all the food you can eat for three hours, including caviar (though not for me ) for just £25.

We walked the mile to the Regent hotel, where we were dining, and I was amazed by the amount of traffic that was bustling around. It’s a day of rest and the city is still brimming with cars.

Jodie introduced me to her colleagues and a good time, eating and drinking, was had by all.

As Jodie was working the following day and I was being let loose on the city by myself, she gave me a briefing on the Chinese currency (she treats money more cautiously than me) - the yuan; where the subway station was; how much the fare would be (15p) and how to buy the tickets.

She finally advised me to drink plenty of water. A difficult piece of advice for someone who likes a glass of wine.

I was now ready to find out what the excitement was all about, Tiananmen Square.

First I had to find my way to the subway. Umm… it’s certainly not so easy if you can’t remember which direction to take. I walked up and down outside Jodie’s apartment thinking, “I’m sure that it’s this way. No, hang on. It’s this way. Or is it?”

I made a call and luckily, it was the right one (perhaps the point where my recent run of good luck began), otherwise I would have still been walking those streets now.

As I walked along the road, there was a continuous stream of people heading towards me. That gave me a little hope that I had chosen the right direction. Rush hour, and people pouring out of the subway. Could this be true?

Well, dang me… when I saw the rows of bikes secured to the railings outside of an entrance, I thought this must be it. I was at Jianguomen subway station.

The entrance is also an exit and I missed that point. You have to remember what exit you need when you leave the subway stations so you should at least try and remember where you entered.

My second mistake of the morning. The first was not bringing a pen and paper with me to write directions down. It doesn’t matter so much when the natives (allegedly) speak the same language as you do, but when they don’t – you have to write notes to enable you to retrace your steps.

I edgily walked down into the torment of the unknown and spied an automatic ticket machine.

Another mistake. As I tried to feed my yuan notes into the machine, it complained bitterly and spat them back out. A lady in a blue uniform immediately appeared at my shoulder and intimated the notes were upside down.

I can handle that and began to feed them back in, but the machine just as easily refused them. So the lady in blue pointed in the direction of the ticket office. No queue, which impressed me immensely, so I paid another lady in blue my 2-yuan, clutched the ticket nervously and entered what could be called Dedman’s Inferno.

A new lady in blue showed me what to do with my ticket to open the gate and I thought this is good. She’s helpful, so I’ll chance my arm and ask her which platform I needed.

I flashed my subway map at her and pointed at Tiananmen East. The lady responded positively, pointing and saying, “down.” Off I went just as the dam broke and another flood of commuters burst out from the side passageway from the other line.

I joined the commuters as they rushed to their next train, before I hesitantly wandered aimlessly along the first platform trying to read the destination of the next train.

Trains would arrive and more commuters would hurry out of the carriages, adding to my confusion until I noticed some of them disappearing down steps to another line. As I ain’t as stupid as I look, I guessed correctly that’s where I should be headed.

Having achieved my first ambition to get on the right line, I now I had the choice of two directions and decided to put that important question to another lady in blue. I wasn’t going to rely on my eyes with no reading glasses. I guess she wasn’t as smart as the other lass as she put me on the wrong platform, not that I was aware of this new challenge. Not quite then.

You’ve seen the pictures of the Japanese subway, where they squeeze them into the carriages. It’s not as bad as that, but it certainly isn’t a bundle of fun. It’s no joy ride on the roller coaster subway.

As i was at the back of the queue, I decided to give the next train a miss and be first in line for the following one; hoping that it wouldn’t be as packed. I thought that had to be a wise move, but no such luck. At least I was finally on the train and moving.

It was very hot and I sweating, wishing that I had splashed Mr. Armani’s fragrance on more liberally after my morning shower.

As we pulled into the next station, I tried to peer out at the station sign without success. It taught me another lesson though.

With the building of the new subway system, it's been designed for each train to come to rest in the same spot at every station. This symmetry has enabled arrows on the platforms to be painted, indicating where to queue to get on (at the sides), and where to leave a gap so that people can get off the train. What a simple idea!.

In addition, the station signs are positioned evenly so that you can see them from every other carriage door. It was yet another point that I learnt quickly as I was struggling to see where I was. My challenge wasn’t made any easier by the hordes of commuters rushing off and on at every stop.

Eventually humility replaced my pride and I accepted that I was heading away from where I wanted to be. I was now faced with the trauma of getting onto another packed train. An exciting way to spend your Monday morning.

I crossed the platform, got onto the next overcrowded train, and battled back the three stations I had already been through, eventually arriving at Tiananmen East.

As I made my way to the exit, there was another helpful lady (also in a blue uniform), who saw me stumbling with my attempt to open the gate. On exit, you have to feed the ticket into a slot, so she indicated where to put the ticket, whereupon the gate opened.

I now found myself, not only where I wanted to be, but I could claim I was now an experienced Beijing subway traveler. Allegedly.

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