Dedicated followers of these columns will recall my drab and dreary trip to a 200 kilometre distant hamlet situated to the north of Beijing. Well, the good news is that I actually did arrive. And all thanks to that modern contemporary wonder: the mobile phone.

The trip to the heart of peasant land having commenced and, as always, curious to experience something new, I was interested to see how rural Chinese people lived.

After traversing multifarious crossroads, we arrived at a walled courtyard complex which, turned out to be the habitat of the friends I made last summer in Beijing. And very interesting it turned out to be.

The solidly hinged, double-door main gate led into a large courtyard, replete with jasmine trees. The periphery was lined with living quarters such as the living room, family room and bedrooms. All spacious and nicely ?if somewhat spartanly ?outfitted.

We were asked to sit down in a somewhat night-clubbish type room, illuminated by recessed coloured lights in shades of blue, red and yellow. The ubiquitous large tray with sweets and tidbits was at the ready and freshly brewed Chinese tea was wheeled in. Ah, how nice to sample Chinese life @ grassroots level...

Sadly, it was not to be for long. After the usual rounds of photographs had been admired, I was ready for a hearty peasant style meal, the appetite for which had been suitably worked up during the two-hour journey through a desolate and unnecessarily messy countryside. To my surprise, I was requested to gather my loins and pack up as we were to dine out at some salubrious restaurant.

I protested politely: ¡°Are you sure that we need to dine out; I am only a moderate eater; rarely drink alcohol and, er, I would be quite happy to sample your home cooking.?

Well, my host wanted nothing of it: it was I who was the esteemed guest and nothing but the best would suffice. I faintly protested that travelling to and from the restaurant would be a waste of time, that could have been gainfully occupied with relating past events, mutual anecdotes and general merrymaking.

A firm ¡°no?put paid to my protestations.

Well, 45 minutes later we arrived at the nearest hotel and were ushered into a private room. The door was closed and there we sat in splendid isolation.

I noticed that the female side of the family were absent. Most probably for economic reasons because a feast of this magnitude would have set back my host probably more than his monthly income.

It is here that I pause to reflect upon the often boundless generosity of the Chinese: When entertaining a visitor, many Chinese pull out all the stops, sometimes at enormous cost. And all in the mistaken belief that foreign friends can only be made to feel welcome when vast sums of money are expended in glittering surroundings and under the enjoyment of expensive and outlandish dinners. How mistaken our dear Chinese friends are...

Of course, we feel honoured and happy when our hosts leave no stone unturned to make us feel welcome. But, not at any expense. And, not infrequently, at an expense that really hurts.

What our Chinese friends should be made to realize is that it is precisely their lifestyle we, visiting Westerners, like to sample. To stay in their houses, in the way they experience it. To eat their food, in their surroundings.

Sadly, my host did not quite get it and most likely invested a lot of cash in his quest to impress and to satisfy. Sadly too, yours truly saw yet the inside of another private room in a luxury restaurant while what he really was yearning for was a longer stay and simple meal in the courtyard house, way inside peasant country.

Again, that cultural gap, eh?