Flying back is uneventful, apart from the girl next to me who fell asleep quickly after takeoff and promptly lost control of her neck, leaving her head antisocially lolling from side to side. The in-flight movies and music channels repeat every couple of hours, and uninterrupted cloud makes the view wholly unremarkable. Despite flying during daytime for both our origin and destination time zones, the hostesses close all the blinds and dim the cabin lights, presumably to reduce the stress of three hundred people in a confined space but it further messes with my jetlag. By the time I land in [View Full Entry]

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So, a brief summary of the whole trip: Waterloo Sunset - Kinks Don't pay the ferryman - Chris DeBurgh Carry on regardless - Beautiful South One hand in my pocket - Alanis Morissette Eliminator - ZZ Top V12 DB9 - Aston Martin Manic Monday - Bangles Lift me up - Geri Halliwell Breathe - Prodigy Fool on the hill - Beatles Money - Pink Floyd Pure morning - Placebo Knockin' on heaven's door - Guns'n'Roses Sharp dressed man - ZZ Top Sitting on the dock of the bay - Otis Redding (anything) - Ravi Shankar Another day in paradise - Phil [View Full Entry]

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The hammering club treated me to a dawn chorus of their collective talents, followed by fifteen minute instrumentals on the angle grinder to mark 8:30 and 9am. I’m awake now. As it’s my last full day in Hong Kong, I go for a walk around the city, buying last minute items that are considerably cheaper than home. I have dinner with Arthur and Rose again, a fantastic multinational buffet with curry, dim sum, pasta and sushi. Here I manage my greatest culinary gaffe of the trip. Having avoided using the wrong chopsticks and managed not to eat from the ashtray thus [View Full Entry]

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It’s the little things that show how organised Hong Kong is, like the adverts in the MTR stations. It’s not noticeable unless you look carefully, but when the train comes into each station you can see that the platform adverts are in the same order in each station. It shows the attention to detail in the culture there. The pace of the town shows clearly on the railway too - the Octopus card communicates with the ticket machines in 300milliseconds, so of course a light appears saying ‘Please wait’. It’s my last day in work, so I decide to treat my [View Full Entry]

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This evening I’m going to ‘a party’ so I pick my outfit. Hong Kong is a town where you can never be overdressed so I slip into one of my new suits, and a good job too. The party turns out to be the launch of Veuve Clicquot’s new rose champagne and paparazzi photographers line the doorway. Inside there’s hundreds of people and champagne is flowing like water. I spend some of the evening talking to a stockbroker and a girl who designs lingerie - nice work if you can get it. The music is heavily mixed drum and bass, but [View Full Entry]

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It seems there’s a formal code for walking in the street in Hong Kong. There are two speeds: “amble with obligatory zig-zag path” and “Get out of my way I’m late”. Both are the same speed but the second uses quicker, smaller steps and you tend to travel in straighter lines. Most importantly though, get in other people’s way. It doesn’t matter how you do this but techniques often include not looking where you’re going, not looking like you’re going where you’re going, walking diagonally, looking backwards, slowing down in narrow [View Full Entry]

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I spent the day examining how the bus company manage modifications to their buses by trial, examination and then modifying the whole fleet. It’s a process that seems to generate more paperwork than spanner time but seems to get results. In the evening I went to Happy Valley race course, the headquarters of the Hong Kong Jockey Club and one of the entertainment epicentres in HK. Ronald has membership so I meet Rose, Arthur, Toni and Bill again and we’re able to have dinner in the member’s box overlooking the finish line. There are five races, and after two I’ve worked [View Full Entry]

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After spending the afternoon drinking coffee to stay awake in a Cantonese safety training session (my favourite - “In case of fire, dial 7232232”) I leave work dazed and still holding my coffee mug. Arthur rings to say we’re meeting his mother for dinner, but her plane didn’t land till 5:30 so it won’t be too early. I jump on the train to collect my suits from the tailor and, I have to say, they look good. The tailor completed his repertoire with quiet confidence today; he’s clearly proud as he sees me in the suit and checks fastidiously that it [View Full Entry]

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When I was much younger, Mother warned me against the dangers of using an umbrella or flying kites in thunderstorms. Quite what she imagined would possess me to stay outside at the first hint of rain on the few occasions I have ever flown a kite is beyond me, but today in direct defiance of her sound advice I was outside at 6am in the most magnificent storm I have ever seen under an umbrella. I woke to a deep booming sound and flashing lights on the curtains (neither of which are particularly rare in a town where neon rules and [View Full Entry]

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The hammering society apparently take Sundays off. I wake late and head up to the Mid Levels above Central to have a look round up there, since I’ve not had a look in the daytime yet. Antiques shops abound and there’s a strange draw towards buying knickknacks for which I have no need at all - the thumb size carvings of Mao Tse Tung’s head come to mind - but still strangely moved to ask the price. Again, prices tumble as I walk away and I’m led to wonder what they actually cost the vendor. Is there really a factory mass-producing [View Full Entry]

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