Getting Comfortable
Supermarket discoveries, a gym membership and an unexpected reluctance to go home.
Four months into life in Hangzhou, my sister Elizabeth asked when I was coming back to the UK.
I found myself reluctant to answer. I had left with the expectation that I might quickly return. Now I had no particular wish to go home.
I was beginning to feel comfortable—even if feeding myself had involved quite a learning curve.
At first, I had lost a little weight while settling in and figuring out where to buy food. Then I discovered Carrefour.
The supermarket felt familiar enough to navigate, but its contents were another matter: fruit I barely recognised, counters of biscuits, dumplings, baozi and flatbreads, and tanks of live seafood. My first visit was an experience for almost every sense.
It also sold the practical things I needed: bedding, pillows, pots and pans. I wasn’t yet ordering groceries through apps, so finding so much in one place was a relief.
The pork buns became a particular weakness. Large, juicy and easy to buy, they sometimes featured several times in a day. Between those and my other discoveries, the weight I had lost returned, with a little extra.
My skin was also breaking out. I felt self-conscious and wanted to get back to the habits that had made me feel good in the UK, especially exercise.
There was a gym opposite my apartment. One day, I finally went in.
The receptionist didn’t speak English, but we worked through the registration form using WeChat translation. It took patience on both sides.
Payment was another reminder of the upfront costs I had encountered in China. They encouraged a two-year membership, but I had no idea whether I would still be in Hangzhou—or in that apartment—by then. Paying monthly was much more expensive.
I settled on six months for around 1,200 RMB. It felt manageable, and I liked the idea of exercising outdoors when the weather suited me.
Leaving with the membership arranged, I felt disproportionately pleased. I had completed something practical, by myself, across a language barrier. That was an achievement.
I was also adjusting to the local timetable. Many of the shops and facilities I used opened around ten in the morning and stayed open late. Convenience looked different from what I was used to: later hours, small specialist shops and services organised through a phone.
For now, Carrefour and a gym across the road were convenient enough for me.
My confidence was growing in other ways too. I began wondering where else teaching might take me: Italy, Prague, Japan, perhaps even Russia.
A few months earlier, China had seemed an almost impossible step. Now, instead of planning my retreat, I was imagining what I might do next.