The venue for today’s gig in Wuhan has a lot of history. VOX is run by one of the oldest punks in China, Wu Wei, and he’s still not very old at all (I’d say early to mid 30s). He started his band SMZB eleven years ago in Beijing, but decided to move to Wuhan to rediscover his roots when his musical peers in the capital city were beginning to forget their punk ideals. Wu Wei likes the Pogues, and the Celtic influence can be heard on SMZB’s latest album, which features the flute and, unbelievably for a Chinese punk band, a set of bagpipes. He has found a sweet posse of replacement bandmates in Wuhan, including his wife, who took over as drummer from the man who now owns VOX. City noise restrictions have repeatedly forced VOX to change venue, which seems pathetic for a place that only puts on shows at the weekend. Wu Wei told me there is little point organising mid-week gigs, since nobody wants to go out from Monday to Friday. Not even the university students, who are evidently way more hard-working than ours.

As I was sitting in front of VOX’s air conditioning unit trying to cool down from the midday heat, thinking that it was going to be a relatively boring day of soundchecks, Ellis ran over from the window with a mixed expression of panic and exhilaration. We rushed outside together to watch 20 or so young male dancers on the pavement doing a choreographed routine to what sounded like Eurodance. Without knowing who or what they were, I guessed that they might be hairdressers, who tend to look the same the world over. After their brief and extremely camp routine was over - I might have seen the spanking move - they all filed into the same building, which was indeed a hairdressing salon. We applauded.

Right after this spectacle, Yang Haisong from P.K.14 asked if we wanted to go to the lake with his band, his old friend Wu Wei, Wu Wei’s wife/drummer, and a few others from various Wuhan bands. We stopped at a beautiful, quiet spot next to an abandoned restaurant, where willow trees dipped into the edges of the lake. A newlywed couple were having their wedding photos taken to our left, and there was quite a contrast between them and us. The punk crew were covered in tattoos, smoking very cheap cigarettes, and causing a riot by pretending to drown in the water. P.K.14’s bassist Shi Xudong swam off to a jetty in the distance, which took him about 45 minutes there and back. He’s the one in the tight red pants. Meanwhile, at VOX, Queen Sea Big Shark were having problems during their hour and a half soundcheck. This was the longest soundcheck our sound technician had ever done, and he has worked for some very famous artists. Some tension among Queen Sea Big Shark members today, we think.

During dinner with the same people that came to the lake, we drank our third sampling of baijiu, a clear Chinese rice-based alcohol that is around 50% proof and damn disgusting unless you hold your breath and chase it down with a mouthful of Tsingtao beer. Shi Xudong was the only one missing, but he had a good excuse: he was taking a married woman out to dinner. It’s a hard life being the only single one in the group. Back at the venue, the support band Hualun played instrumental post-rock that didn’t sound too far off 48V’s performance in in Changsha. Blogger Lua and I took them to do an interview in the bank, at their suggestion. We crouched on the floor in the corner as the band told me they feel like real outsiders in Wuhan. The only place that they can play is VOX, though Wuhan doesn’t have much in the way of live music venues anyway. We went back to watch QSBS and P.K.14, and afterwards Yang Haisong bought Ellis and me T-shirts from the merch stall printed with ‘Wuhan Prison’, the name of one of SMZB’s old albums. We thought that this was the loveliest of gestures. After some Wuhan whisky, Wu Wei took us to a hidden street of barbecued meat stalls and cafes. Finally tried duck’s neck, which I’ve been waiting for. Tasted like duck. Back at our hotel, we have two and a half hours to sleep before waking up to embark on yet another 18-hour bus ride. Imodium, here we come.