When I left for Sichuan, China, the last thing I expected was to end up in an obscure hotel, splayed out on a cold marble floor outside a stranger’s room, trying to become Jesus.
I had only the frigid Beijing air and my large suitcase for company as I waited for the 7.30 train to Chongqing.
30 hours and over 1,800 kilometres separate Beijing from Chongqing via the slow train. Of course, I was well aware of the direct flights available as well as the high-speed rail, both of…