The idea of going bare-foot inside a Chinese shoeless home initially conjured up very bad memories. I was once a right royal stinker, and my fetid feet were the bane of my existence.

My feet reeked so bad they could have been used as biological weapon in the war against terror. They ponged worse than smelly bean curd and could overpower the noxious stench of a week-old dead fish.

Even a garlic-munching Beijing taxi driver, who hadn't flossed their teeth for the past 23 years, would complain if I ever slipped off my shoes in his vehicle.

But my stink bombs did come in handy. A mugger confronted me one night, when walking the mean streets of New York City, and I didn't need mace or a pistol.

I whipped off my shoes and aimed one at my attacker's face. The thug screamed in horror, and threatened to press charges.

The reason my feet stunk so bad was the result of utter laziness. Every morning for the entire decade during my 20s, I never could find clean socks. Why? Because I never cleaned them. I just bought new ones. And my socks would also mysteriously disappear. Where do our missing socks go? Each morning I would have to rummage until I dug up a three-day old dirty pair.

The turning point in my smelly feet saga was when I began showering with my socks on. Afterwards, I would hang them up to dry.

I thought this was the smartest thing I'd ever done because I always had clean socks.

My feet were saved. During my smelly feet phase there were times when I would refuse to take my shoes off in people's homes and would leave instead. Fortunately, this didn't happen often because in many Western countries, most folks normally stomp around their homes in shoes and boots.

We come home, open the door and make rush to the lounge-room, kitchen, bedroom or bathroom.

There is not a shoe rack at the door. There maybe an umbrella rack or even a coat rack, but shoes are kept in the bedroom closet.

I know farming friends in Australia who slip off their dirty boots after entering their homes. But from my experience, most city dwellers in the West don't have this habit. A city slicker doesn't collect much mud and soil walking the pavements of Washington, Toronto or Melbourne.

But in China, every home I've ever visited has had a no-shoe policy. Guests are directed to leave their shoes at the door and slippers are always provided.

When I was a boy growing up in Sydney, I remember visiting my Chinese friend Dennis Lee's home.

It was the strangest sight to see everybody's shoes at the door.

Today I think it such a sensible idea. Why bring all that dust and dirt into the home?

And it's much more comfortable lounging around with our shoes off.

On long flights, there is nothing better than slipping my shoes off.

And luckily for me, my pungent odor has gone with the wind.