Apart from the foggy chill of a Beijing dawn, the first experience of the Chinese capital was a harsh sensation at the back of the throat from the city's heavy pollution.

After Gordon Brown received his guard of honour on the tarmac, the British delegation was whisked away to the Great Hall of the People for the official welcoming ceremony with Premier Wen Jiabao.

The motorcade wheezed down a closed-off motorway; only later would I realise just what a luxury it was, given Beijing's dreadful traffic jams.

Speeding past the power buildings, the one aspect that was overwhelming was how new the Chinese capital looked. Few buildings, many of them skyscrapers of huge proportions, appeared less than a few years old.

The Great Hall of the People is off Tiananmen Square, famous, for the events of 1989 when a lone protester took a stand against the state authority of a tank.

It is a huge square full of China's red national flags with people milling around, soldiers marching up and down and locals flying kites.

The venue for the Prime Minister's welcome was a mite intimidating. The official reception was in a large square room with marble flooring and marble columns. In the centre was the dais where the two premiers would take a salute from the Red Army.

The business delegation accompanying Mr Brown on his trip shuffled into the far end of the reception room, Virgin boss Sir Richard Branson standing out, tie-less. Camera flashes and the tapping on marble of the hurried feet of officials ushered in the two leaders. Silence descended.

With a fixed expression the two men walked slowly to the dais and the band struck up the national anthems. The premiers looked straight ahead as the faces of the soldiers looked straight back at them. Then, the officer goose-stepped before the PM, drew his sword and thrust it downwards aggressively.

Mr Brown appeared a little startled but was led down the red carpet by Premier Wen to inspect the guard of honour. Somewhat stiffly as if not really knowing what to do, the Prime Minister strode past the expressionless soldiers. A nod and a smile and the two leaders left.

After an official lunch it was on to the People's University for the PM and a joint question-and-answer session with local businessmen and students.

Mr Wen had acquired the totalitarian leaders' habit of giving inordinately long answers to simple questions. Mr Brown could not say the word "co-operation" enough as he sought to sell Britain plc to the emerging Asian economic giant.

Members of the select audience were given leaflets, informing them to "stand up and applaud when the two PMs enter the venue" and most of the guests, barring the British press, obliged.

Most of Mr Wen's answers were vague rhetoric as the Q&A descended into a mutual appreciation society but he did invite his UK guest to the Olympic Games in August and even offered to have a game of table tennis with him.

Next, the two men went into the university's sporting arena whose galleries were filled with thousands of students, cheering the leaders as they entered to watch a game of ping-pong between Chinese and British players.

Halfway through the game, the barriers were removed by staff and the dignitaries stood up. There was a great roar as the audience clearly believed that the two leaders were going to have a game with each other.

Sadly, they did not. They walked to microphones to announce again what a wonderful person the other man was.

Ping-pong diplomacy isn't what it used to be.