I passed up the chance of a good story this month. I was invited to be arrested by the Chinese navy, and I turned it down.
I was riding my bicycle to join the family for a weekend near Ningbo, a sea port. I was still well inland, on a remote road through the hills, when I passed the gate of a naval barracks. At its second gate, a long way from the first, a line of sailors in crisp white uniforms barred my way.
“Stop please!” one of them shouted. “Our commander wants to speak to you. Inside.” He beckoned through the gate.
“Why?” I said, staying put on the road.
“Because you have ridden past our base and he wants to know what you saw. We’ll compensate you for your time, in cash…”
One of his comrades interrupted him. “Are you Dutch?” he asked me.
He seemed disappointed when I said no. I guessed it was a naval intelligence college and the duty office was on the Dutch language interrogation course. But I didn’t want to be a practice prisoner.
“I don’t have time and this is a public road. You have no authority over it.” I said.
There was a standoff—the sailors had come out on the road, surrounding me.
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