We've been to Kunming twice now, once on the way to Lijiang and once on the way back as we couldn't get an easy route from Lijiang to Xian. When we'd originally planned to stop here we were encouraged by all the advertising which described Kunming as "The City Of Eternal Spring". Thoughts of pleasant springtime days abounded in our imagination, and we headed to the City with enthusiasm. The first time we were here we got soaked everyday.....and abandoned a planned trip to the famous stone forest in the hope of better weather on the return leg. We have now realised the Spring of the strap line is not a season but a water feature which "springs water continuously on the heads of the population. Plans to visit the stone forest were abandoned yet again in favour of a shorter trip to explore some of the city. Having stayed in the hotel until the last possible minute watching the England/Slovakia game on the TV we transferred our bags to the storage room downstairs and headed out. Raining again we dodged the umbrellas and poncho clad mopeds to reach Dico's, the local hamburger chain and safe haven. Eventually the rain eased off so armed with a subway map we headed across to the train station. Logic told us the subway stop named Kunming railway station would likely be in the vicinity of its namesake. As always bags and bodies had to be subjected to a full airport style scan to simply enter the concourse. Of course my bag contained something suspicious -a comb....so it had to be subjected to a full examination whilst groups of Chinese nationals just pushed through the gates together. Having negotiated the security we approached an information guy for information re the location of the metro. He looked at us blankly, so I produced a subway map on the iPad, without changing his expression he just raised his arm pointing back to the direction we'd come from. "Ok....I guess there isn't an access from the station" we said and headed towards the exit. As we got there we approached a young female police officer who didn't even seem to recognise the subway map as the metro. Plan three....let's try the tourist information just round the corner. When we enter a young girl is sitting there curled over her phone, she only looks up when I address her and show her the subway map. She points to the corner of the concourse in the direction of the toilets and returns to her phone, seeming perturbed by the interruption. John and I follow her directions to confirm what we already know.....just toilets. Oh well we didn't want to see any more of Kunming anyway if the area around the station, and its inhabitants are anything to go by! We spent the rest of the afternoon killing time before our 35 hour sleeper train by people watching and doing a jigsaw on the iPad, in the local clothes mall. Why is there never a coffee shop, or even better a bar, when you need one? China appears geared up for tourism - Chinese tourism! When we stayed here before we had stayed at the 7 days Premium hotel a short distance from the station. It proved to be a comfortable hotel with all necessary amenities. The staff spoke only a little English - but using a sense of humour, mime and a couple of translator apps we could communicate sufficiently. When we left we tried to book a room for our return visit and were quoted a much inflated price with the excuse that the prices were increasing. We said we would leave it. On returning to our room I checked into Booking.com and booked the room for our original price. It didn't come as a surprise to receive an email from Booking.com a few days later telling me that the hotel were now only accepting Chinese nationals and had cancelled the booking. The site suggested an alternative and offered to reimburse us for any additional expense. When we arrived at the substitute hotel the numerous staff were attending to the demands of a number of Chinese guests so we waited patiently. When the girl, who appeared to be in charge, finally came across I showed her the Booking.com confirmation and handed her the passports. At this point the passports are usually photocopied and returned but the girl thumbed through the pages gazing at the various pictures in the numerous visas, and looking back and forth between the computer screen and the passports. Eventually she used her phone to call someone who spoke a smidgen more English but had a better idea what to do with the them and the process speeded up. By the time we had gone through all the rigmarole and managed to get both the wifi key and room card we were both 40 minutes older and losing the will to live. Needless to say we didn't ask about laundry and kept ourselves to ourselves for the rest of the stay.