5th April, 6:30pm HKT.

---

The Tsim Sha Tsui ferry terminal is also a busy bus terminus, dominated by Kowloon Motor Bus vehicles and hawkers desperate to give me a fantastic deal on a Rolex watch. KMB have a large hoarding here showing their history and reputation; I adopt the Jill Reeves approach to bus travel and dive on the first vehicle I see; the ticket machine deducts credit from my Octopus card and I can travel to the end of the route. In fact, I jump off after around a mile and start walking back through Signal Hill gardens towards the ferry terminal, partly because of the driver’s Hindu attitude to death. In fact, the whole area is much more heavily dominated by Indian-looking people than the island (many of whom seem to have immigrated with so many watches that they are forced to sell some on the streets).

The shop-fronts and pedestrian areas are a riot of neon signs, and the streets are now crowded with ‘friends’ of mine offering a good deal for food. In choosing Chinese restaurants I usually eat where the Chinese seem to be going, but since that’s redundant here I make a new ‘friend’ and he charges me just less than £5 for what appears as a chicken biryani and cola - very authentic. However, it’s healthier, tastier and more plentiful than a hamburger and I leave content.

---