Ahead of leaving Shanghai on Monday, a good chunk of my belongings are now in transit. I have 25 kilos going by post, plus an 8kg rug I just bought in Kashgar in northwest China. I also have a trunk full of books and things I’ve collected here which is now wending its way by ship to Felixstowe.

My "useless" piece of...

This trunk and its contents have prompted the most surprised reactions from Chinese people. Last week, I arrived home pushing the 1940s relic from the lift to my door and our ayi, Qian Zhi Hui, was at home. She helped me push it into the living room and then within seconds was wiping it over with a cloth, disgusted at how dusty it was. In my eyes, I had got a bargain from the junk shop. I had found it sitting amongst the general clutter of Chairman Mao tapestries, old light fittings, biscuit tins, suitcases, a typewriter and crockery. To me this place is a treasure trove as you never know want little gem you might find there. I had bought the box because to me, it was perfect for transporting my belongings and will be something nice to keep. I got a 1950s biscuit tin thrown into the bargain, and together they cost 35 pounds. The first person who turned his nose up at it was the driver of the taxi who took me home. He said his mother used to have one but no-one does now because old stuff like this is not good and everyone likes new things. He wasn’t telling me anything new. I have seen hundreds of historic buildings be demolished since I’ve lived here.

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It’s T-14 days until I leave Shanghai and mild panic has set in.

After a fantastic weekend enjoying my last Shanghairugby tournament at Shanghai Rugby Football Club, the reality of all the practical things that I have to get done is looming large. It would be ok if I just had to do the practical things, but I also have to fit in doing all the “lasts” that keep coming up: my last touch rugby session (tonight), my last rugby tournament (the weekend), my last afternoon tea, my last shop at the fake market, my last massage (say it’s not so), my last shop for antiques and souvenirs (do I really need them?), and goodbyes that I’m refusing to think about.

When I look around my room now I just see extraneous stuff that doesn’t fit into any of my three categories: ditch, ship, post. I start sorting through things and am overcome by the sheer amount of taxi receipts, loose change (Chinese, Hong Kong, British) and business cards that I’ve accumulated. They must multiply of their own accord. I’m then distracted by 101 queries in my head, such as ‘How are my friend and I going to get my 8ft house plant round to her house on her scooter?’, ‘Is the post office going to unpack every item I box up before allowing me to send it to the UK as they usually do with everything else?’ and ‘How many more times in my life am I going to buy and discard an Ikea shelving unit?’.

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