For the girls out there who like handbags marginally more than home-delivered BLTs and breathing, the Guangzhou leather market is the place for you.

There are so many stalls here of handbags upon handbags upon shoes upon handbags that cows literally come here to die to save the slaughterhouse transportation costs.

The place is about a dozen stories high and takes up a good five blocks. Naturally enough, I’m not able to find quite the perfect clutch, and everything Wilken likes is for bulk order only – though buying satchels here in multiples of several hundred is probably cheaper still than the op shop in downtown Maastricht.

The salespeople here are not shy either, and their English usually extends impressively far as “Hello, you want? Vely cheap plice! Real, genuine! No? Ok – this one real!” Which is really all one needs in a place like this, other than the ability to count notes deftly and regularly fail to return change.

After the satisfying purchase of several cows’ worth of leather goods, we had planned to indulge in a spot of massage but don’t feel particularly sore, at least not until we decide against it then circumnavigate the city countless times on foot trying to find a taxi.