No time for sight-seeing, but skirted the summer palace, spent a couple of hours roaming round the old streets of Peking, in and out of jade-shops. Never saw Rewi Alley—he was 3000 miles away to the wot. Hospitality was wonderful, and I don't think I could look at those so-called Chinese meals in Wellington after the real thing Started straight off on chopsticks, and am now quite proficient even with peas and rice.

Well the story of eight days in the train from Peking to Moscow was really an epic in itself—two days to the Chinese border—tremendous receptions at each station on both sides of the border—very weary in the end—good sleeping and eating, but awful washing facilities. Nine days without a shower was not a tragedy, but very uncomfortable. Fortunately it was mutual, so in the end we couldn't smell one another.

I travelled with the Philippines delegation. Burmese, and Indonesians studying in Peking—a wonderful bunch of people. We had two interpreters—very helpful and anxious to get experience in English.

The train was on time to the minute at each station—I think the track was about 4ft 10in double all the way, electrified two days out of the eight, and plenty of traffic going cast. Saw take Baikal briefly before dark, and generally Siberia is very picturesque. A random look out of the window gave a picture of cultivation or industry, contrary to my expectations of barrenness.

Talking of Omsk. I spent some happy hours teaching our Russian friends New Zealand songs, including (after careful explanation) "Serge and I They thought it exceedingly humorous—contrary to the experience of other Kiwis three days ahead.

Arrived Moscow the day the Festival started. More later.

—Pip Piper.