So near yet so feared: closing doors to open minds

Apart from when the central government has closed off the whole country to potentially crazed foreign sports maniacs who might be planning all kinds of anti-Olympic evil, the mainland has done a great job of opening up since the dark days of the 1960s and 70s.

Nowadays, with money and a smattering of Putonghua, there really is nothing you can't do; nowhere you can't go. Or so I thought.

Last summer, while on the way to Kazakhstan with friends E and K, we found ourselves in one of those "let's pick a town with an interesting name and go there" places in Xinjiang - He Jing, which translates as "peaceful and quiet".

"Sorry, but we can't accommodate foreign friends," said the hotel receptionist. That old chestnut. So we're "friends" but you won't accept our custom?

Fuming, we got in a taxi and drove from one hotel to another, with the same result. Waving my Hong Kong ID card saying, "I'm a Hong Kong compatriot" usually works in these No Foreigners hotels, but not this time.

Finally, we found a hotel run by Mongolians who took pity on us fellow ethnic minorities and let us stay, albeit with much sucking of teeth.