Being as I was staying with people I knew (well, people who know and are known by people I know) and had been introduced to them via a non-commercial channel, no one thought about registration until after the Village Committee had already closed their offices for the day. It's not even that we were particularly lax about getting the necessary round tuits; just that the Village Committee offices close pretty early. 

I would have thought I should be going to the Police but everyone was certain that it was the Village Committee so, the next day, after many rounds of coffee (my coffee pots, their coffee pots, their cold brew) and a lovely breakfast made by Ranger, Sue and I walked over to the committee's offices where they were like "she hasn't been outside the country in the past two weeks, has she?" and, after being reassured that its actually impossible for me to have been outside the country in the past two weeks and to currently be anywhere other than a Quarantine Facility, decided that I was now registered. 

No photos. No photocopies. No forms.
Didn't even want to see my green code and believed me when I said I had a negative Covid test he could look at.

It was wonderful.

From past trips to Guangxi, this is the sort of registration process which I expect from this province. Because, unlike other provinces, they not only border another country, they also have a very long history of getting a lot of random foreigners just wandering around enjoying the beautiful. In 2014 (to Yunnan) and in 2018 (to/from Vietnam), I had multiple hotels in Guangxi where I was perfectly willing to register myself on the computer and the hotel insisted that all their local police wanted was a photo of me standing in the hotel lobby. 

Once I was 'registrated', I grabbed a Didi to the Postal Processing Center that wasn't on any maps or near any notable locations that could be searched out so I could pick up the heavy cream which Tyra had mailed to me from Haikou. Now, all things considered, the additional price of having the cream shipped twice (once from the seller, once from Tyra) and now the added price of a taxi to go pick it up (because why should the Post Office have an address you can look up) made the cream cost quite a pretty penny more than otherwise but it was still less than the cream at the import food store I was recommended to go to so I could pick up stuff to make dinner for everyone.

With all the foreign tourists currently not coming, most of the western restaurants aren't doing western food right now and the selection at the import store was terrible. I still managed to get the ingredients for a credible if not great pasta in cream sauce (and without having to use my heavy cream). I then completely misjudged how far of a walk it was back to the place and bought a bunch more stuff (including a watermelon) which resulted in my being all pathetic and needing to call a cab for the last kilometer.

In the morning, I didn't think I'd really eaten all that much but, combined with not actually doing anything much exercise-wise, and having work to keep me at the computer all day, I didn't get up and out of the house for breakfast until going on 5pm when I was forced to go get myself a breakfast that was more than the oatmeal from my bags (which is what I was thinking of doing) by a new wound on my ankle showing signs of infection (all the others are cleared up) and my being unable to find the erythromycin ointment and therefore needing to go to a pharmacy.

I took this trip as an opportunity to go check out the Maoist slogans I'd noticed the day before on the outside of the old village temple which is now an old age activity center (no idols or shrines inside) and to more thoroughly peruse the sad offerings at the import store to see if there was anything I wanted enough to get that I wouldn't be able to get when I take the train to Guangzhou next week for a meeting.