After disassembling my bike and getting it picked up by a courier company for shipping to Hainan along with most of the stuff in my panniers, I take a taxi to the Deng Xiaoping Museum. Because I'm cold and the walk is ridiculous and I've already been walking around inside the Museum for something like 90 minutes, I only go to the Museum and not to the homestead where he grew up.

I have a minor moment of panic when I get out of the taxi as I realize that I've both forgotten to bring a mask with me and I'm not carrying my passport. The convenience store is not only selling overpriced umbrellas, they've also got overpriced single use masks; and, to my good fortune, although it's a bit annoying to have the guards only single me out among all the people coming in, the green code on my phone is enough to get me in.

When I was doing the Deng Pufang book, I had to do a lot of research into speeches made by Deng Xiaoping as his son was of the habit of randomly quoting statements that his audience would recognize as coming from his father and not explicitly attributing them. As a result, although I've never actually translated anything by or about Deng Xiaoping (probably because its all already been translated, and quite professionally) I have a pretty good idea for an American (who honestly doesn't care that much) about Deng's life history and public accomplishments.

Mostly the reason I enjoy the museum is because I'm a museum geek and this is a professional laid out and designed museum. I can't stop myself from taking photos of every translation or typesetting error I come across but that's kind of to be expected. Also, I think there are individual walls at the Terracotta Soldiers that have more errors on them than this entire museum. (Have I had the opportunity yet this trip journal to rant about how much I hate the Terracotta Soldiers Museum?)

Another taxi back to my hotel, though it's actually an unlicensed hack (impressive in the Didi era that these still exist) who haggles a decent price with me as I come out of the museum and means that I don't have to wait in the cold drizzle for a ride.

Then, I turn the heat up as high as possible, crawl under the blankets, and read a book until far too late at night.