If there's one way in which the Chinese have failed to endear themselves to me，it's in their propensity to try and rip foreigners off.

In a less touristy city like Dalian, from where I departed last week after a six-month stay, the rip-off merchants were not so prevalent, aside from the odd taxi driver trying to take you the long way; or in Shengli Guanchang, the huge underground shopping centre, where the price of everything seemed to treble as soon as I walked through the door. But in the areas of China that attract more foreign visitors, being taken for a ride is a daily hazard.

Often when you ask for the bill in a restaurant they simply tell you the total rather than giving you a slip of paper detailing the maths. At a restaurant in Harbin, where I went to visit the annual ice festival a couple of months back, we were quoted a ridiculously high figure by one waiter. After our protestations led to the production of the paper bill, we found that he'd simply doubled the total and hoped he'd get away with it.

With the menus and bills all being written in Chinese, double-checking isn't always easy. In a Beijing noodle restaurant the owner simply scribbled out the numbers and wrote in new ones when we pointed out there wasn't a single thing on the menu that matched the price she'd quoted us. There's no way of telling if the items listed on the bill are the same as the ones you ordered, either, but at least you can count them to make sure they haven't added a couple of extras.

Going to Beijing - our first port of call on a four-week tour of China - brought the subject of foreigners paying over the odds into sharp focus. Having already spent six months in China and earned Chinese wages, my monetary radar is finely tuned to what things should really cost, and what constitutes a good deal; I was amazed by how much other foreigners were prepared to pay for things.

At the Simatai section of the Great Wall (the highlight of our stay in the capital and well worth the five-hour round trip to avoid other, more tourist-clogged sections of the Wall nearer Beijing), an American man who we passed on our way up the steep climb - made even more difficult by snow - told us that it would be obvious when you couldn't go any further because there's a sign warning of a 200 yuan fine for going beyond it: "200 Yuan!" he laughed.

To him it was little more than $25, loose change in his pocket. To me, well beyond the point of mentally converting every price into its pound sterling equivalent, it's three or four days worth of food.

In our hostel they were offering organised trips to the Great Wall for 180 yuan per person. The language barrier means sorting out your own trip can be a real hassle, especially to the more remote areas of the country where the public transport runs out. But with some careful negotiating at the bus station we ended up paying 115 yuan each, including the cost of the entrance fee.

On the way back a girl who’d failed to organise her return journey took one of the empty seats in our minibus and paid 200 yuan just for the transport (one way) simply because she’d failed to barter, probably using the rationale that £15 for a three-hour bus journey isn't bad.

Bartering for a lower price is a slightly alien concept to me. Unlike others, who relish it and prepare for it as if going into battle, it’s not something I particularly enjoy; mainly because no matter how much of a reduction you get, you always feel like you should have gone lower.

Yesterday, at an antique market in Shanghai, I bought some playing cards decorated with Communist-era propaganda posters for a third of the stall-holder’s original price. Yet as I walked away feeling pretty chuffed with myself, I saw the woman’s indignation turn to a wry smile and knew I’d still paid too much.

The significantly higher price of food in western-style restaurants is another indicator of how foreigners are prepared to pay over the odds. Partly this is because some of the ingredients are harder to come by, but it's also because they know most westerners will happily pay up because it's still cheaper than what they would pay at home.

The Chinese are more than happy to take advantage of this, and why shouldn't they? Nine times out of ten foreigners will fall for the rip off, especially in a big city like Beijing where many visitors are fresh off the plane with wads of unfamiliar cash in their pockets.

While we were waiting to depart Beijing airport for Shanghai, I saw another American become indignant when the waitress in a coffee shop refused to accept the notes he was offering as payment. I almost stepped in to tell him that he was trying to pay with 2 jiao notes instead of 2 yuan (there are 10 jiao to 1 yuan), but I was enjoying watching the obnoxious git make a fool of himself too much.

For once the foreigner wasn't being ripped off, but he thought he was, and he probably deserved to be.