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China café: My literary death match

We get a lot of guests in summer—too many for comfort. Plus, my literary death match

By Mark Kitto   October 2010

If I were an artist I’d create a new “school” called modern Chinese impressionism.

Last weekend I turned onto a dirt track along a reservoir, cracked open a beer and sat on a rock to enjoy the scenery. The late afternoon sun threw broad bands of silver across the water. The bright white clouds diffused the light across the dark green hills that rolled away towards the horizon, each one a fractionally different shade to the other. On the opposite side of the lake a tea plantation fanned out above a cluster of buildings, like a buffer zone against the…

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