It is around this time of year that I inevitably ask myself why, of all the places on earth I choose to live in a courtyard house in a Beijing hutong.

The freezing temperature outside is only marginally abaited by the sieve like door and window frames throuh which an arctic gale blows. The heating is cripplingly expensive to run and barely effective except in the nursery where my wife and I fight over who will do the night feed in an attempt to garner a little body heat from my son.

Then, just as I am loosing the will to live spring arrives and I realise how lucky we are to have such a beautiful home.