It is now 19 days since I touched down back in London after four years in Shanghai.

When I last blogged I was finding public transport one of my biggest problems. Crossing London each morning to get to work from Chelsea was taking an hour and a half. I have now got around this problem by joining the hi-viz brigade.

Last weekend I converted my sister’s mountain bike, which hasn’t been used for 10 years, into a fully functioning commuter bike complete with flashing lights and basket. I bought myself the high- visibility tabard and helmet which are the accessories of choice for rush hour cyclists trying not to become another road death statistic. It’s the kind of get up that feels like it should automatically endow you with the skills to survey a building site or inspect a railway.

Riding sidesaddle in Shanghai in July

It makes me laugh when I think that a few months ago I was merrily sitting sidesaddle on the back of a bicycle in the streets of Shanghai employing simply the best safety precautions available- common sense. Last week, I was sent a picture of the 8ft tree my friend moved from my old flat to hers. It was, of course, loaded onto my old scooter for the purpose of relocation, casting an amusing shadow. I’m pretty sure it would be against the law to do that here.

Continue reading at Expat Telegraph here.

I have now been back in England for just over a week having lived in China for four years.

My first impressions have been those that a foreigner might have. Straight away in the taxi home from the airport, I was hit by the quality of the music on the radio and I could understand all the lyrics- a novelty. Hearing British songs that I’ve not heard for ages is a real treat. I started my new job two days after I landed. It’s in the West End which means that I wandered around in a slight daze for the first few lunch breaks- so many stylish young people, so many lunch options, so many different street fashions, and so many girls who look just like me. In Shanghai I had days where I might only see two or three other white people in a day. I felt plugged in again. These old western capital cities do have a lot to offer, I told myself.

In my first week as a Brit looking through Chinese eyes, I noticed that British people eat and drink too much and don’t look after their health enough, while staying healthy is the golden rule in China. People walk faster here, but the transport moves much much slower.

Since I can understand 99 percent of everything that is said around me (excluding foreigners speaking languages I don’t know on public transport), I have overheard the quaintest of expressions that I’ve not heard for years, including “okie dokie” and “whoops-a-daisy”. These make me smile.

Continue reading here at Telegraph Expat.

How do we do it? That was the question I kept asking myself this time last week as I packed up what was left of my life in Shanghai. After weeks of being busy sorting things out, spending time with friends and doing some travelling, the enormity of what I was about to do by leaving China hit me. Until then I had busily changed the subject, putting a positive spin on things and evading talk of how sad things would be every time a  friend looked at me bleary-eyed. It was far easier not to think about how distressing it would be when the moment came to say goodbye. And then it hit me.

It seemed non-sensical on so many levels to be leaving a city and group of people I love so much. I felt like my head had written a cheque that my heart couldn’t cash. I felt the same way before I left England for China in 2007. I kept thinking about it. Humans surely aren’t supposed to travel such long distances and be apart from those we love. If we were it would be easier. I tried to think of how I would feel if my trip home was going to be taken away: if I were told I could never return to England, see my friends and family again and start my new job. I would have been devastated. But still, mental trickery provides little comfort when you are preparing to leave a place you’ve called home.

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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.

Continue reading at Expat Telegraph

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?’.

Continue reading at Expat Telegraph here.

This site is under development. Soon you will be able to read more blogs and articles by Josephine McDermott here. Meanwhile, you can read her Chelsea Girl in China blog at www.telegraph.co.uk/chelseagirlinchina