The simple pleasure of playing during a spell living in China was a glorious escape amid a vast bustling city
By Adam Hopkins for Wisden Cricket Monthly
“Xià yí zhàn: Shìjì Dàdào,” a robotic Chinese voice blares over the metro carriage speakers. “Qiánfāng kěyǐ huànchéng èr hào xiàn, liù hào xiàn, hé jiǔ hào xiàn. Chēmén jiàng zài yòu cè kāimén, qǐng zhàn wěn fú hǎo.”
A few seconds later an English voice follows: “Next station: Century Avenue. You can transfer to Line 2, Line 6, and Line 9. Doors will open on the right. Please stand clear and hold on to the handrails.” I get up from my seat and attempt to manoeuvre myself and my large Kookaburra duffle bag towards the carriage doors. “Bù hǎo yì si, bù hǎo yì si” (“Excuse me, excuse me”) I say as I squeeze past an old lady and her shopping caddy and then a mother with a pram.
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