Wanbro

Moving... finally!

2004-08-17T14:58:00.000+08:00

After an overly-extended period of tapping away, I have resisted several urges to give in to my frustration of taking my eyes out with a spoon, or spewing forth in a blind rage around Hong Kong Island because I couldn't get the mo-fo to work.

But now it does.

Ladies and Gentlemen of the blogosphere, please indulge me, and update your bookmarks as Wanbro makes the move off Blogger, having won his very own domain from which to go forth and pass comment on anything that may please, amuse, irritate or enthuse:

www.wanbro.com/blog is the new address that everyone's talking about.

There's still much to do on it, but at least this way I can continue to pass judgment on all those events that just can't wait - as well as those highly inconsequential stammerings I splutter out now and then.

Appropriately maybe, I am leaving Hong Kong in a week's time - for a quick breather back in UK, before heading to Beijing where I'll be studying at University for a while, in a highly transparent scheme to avoid joining the London rat race just yet...

So... deep breath... this will be my last post here on Blogger... until it all goes tits up on the Wordpress version and I'm forced back here, tail in between my legs. So please keep reading!

True Friend??

2004-08-16T22:02:00.000+08:00

Just got an email from a friend up in Beijing, a request for no doubt the first of many aid packages I'll surely be requesting come September. However, this wasn't the usual requests for such hard to find goods as Marmite, Tampons or Kit Kats - but underwear.

I've been enlisted to purchase:

"half-dozen pair of knock-off (but good-quality) brand name boxer briefs (note: i don't want boxers and i don't want briefs). blue, grey, or black."

Classy guy. I like how he stipulates the exact colour and style, as well as they fact that they must be cheap fakes. Nice.

He admits to a 'style gap across the Atlantic', but insists I must take along a chick to help in the great selection, since:

You're a man and thus less knowing of what truly appeals to women.

I guess you know when you've really made a close friend when they can trust you to choose their underwear selection for the Autumn '04 season...

Nothing homoerotic here either, just one desperate Canadian whose tighty whities aren't perhaps as whity as they once were... Of course, if he had a sense of humour, he'd see the funny side of the new Bossini male thong range, wouldn't he?

Pack...unpack...pack...

2004-08-16T21:47:00.000+08:00

Unpacking always takes forever, and there's no reason why it should really - I only had a backpack with me, but I've still got the odd wet t-shirt festering in a zipped-up pocket I really should have dealt with by now.

The irony is that tomorrow I have to start packing - heading up to Beijing for a few days to find a flat, also having to lug as much stuff as possible up there too else I'll have to pay some extortionate amount for movers, and I really don't have that much stuff. Oh, the larks of packing.

I don't actually have much of a clue how much it costs to send stuff up to China from HK - are we talking hundreds or thousands of dollars? I only have books, clothes and the odd guitar, so not weighed down too much by Chesterfields or fake-leather sofas, as much as I'd like to be.

Back in Black

2004-08-16T11:09:00.000+08:00

Well, ok, not really in black, but it sounds a liiiittle better than my just saying 'I'm Back'. Got a load of things to sort out this week, as I've just realised that I leave Hong Kong for good in 10 days' time. I have to sort out all my shit, say goodbyes, and even hit up to Beijing for a couple of days to find somewhere to live - now I really need that like a hole in the head.

Still, now being officially unemployed - I have a load more time to do all the above in. I feel fantastically lazy sitting here in my boxers tapping away, not even having to feel the slightest bit guilty why I'm not sitting in the office willing the clock to hurry-the-fcuk-up. I can go and take a walk, read the paper, make coffee, wash my mould-gathering clothes, hell, go back to sleep if I like.

Bet I'll be bored by 4 o'clock...

Saigon

2004-08-15T10:39:00.000+08:00

Well, somehow I survived the ghetto night train from hell, replete with a squatter toilet that mysteriously filled with vomit every hour, and windows that were kept wide open to allow the rain, wind, and open sewer smells to flood into the compartment throughout the night. But as I say, I made it, and aside from the time I took the train from Edinburgh to Bristol a few years ago on New Years Day, spending the entire trip in the crampt train toilet as I couldn't stop being ill after excesses of the night before, it has to be the worst train ride of my life.

Arriving in Saigon, you really do get a very different vibe from the other Vietnamese cities I've visited on the way down here. Actually, it's been really interesting to notice that pretty much every place I've stopped has been pretty unique in character: the bustle of colonial Hanoi, rammed into the narrow streets trying to accommodate street hawkers, tourists, shops of every distinction and a million and one motorbikes; the glorious panoramas and sweet air of the towns in the mountains, when you could see past the thick cloud cover; the mind-blowing scenery in Halong Bay. It's hard to imagine this is the same country, down here in the South, where I'm writing this right now. It seems an age ago since sampling my first authentic pho in Hanoi a couple of weeks ago, the diversity of the country, the people, the cities, the scenery is hard to overestimate.

Saigon, or Ho Chi Minh city, if you will, has a definite capital city feel to it - even though the actual capital is the old North Vietnamese hub of Hanoi. Here the roads are wider, cleaner, there are more people, more cars, more luxury shopping malls, more top hotels, more of the top tourist sites. It still gives off a certain French-ness with the architecture - the shuttered, painted windows, the iron gates, the tiled rooves - and aside from the abundance of our Gallic tourist friends, this city has a definite European character along the same lines of Singapore or Macau, although the officials wandering around in their olive-green uniforms with red epaulettes throw in a certain Chinese-ness to the melting pot.

After passing out in the hotel for a good few hours, hunger forced me to go and investigate, despite my better judgement that staying by the hotel pool would be a far better way to spend the afternoon. 10 minutes later I was striding past the Notre Dame Cathedral and the Opera house - neither of which would look out of place anywhere in Italy - except the former still hasn't replaced the stained-glass windows that were smashed during the war.

Still, still, still everybody is trying to sell me something, although thankfully I appear to have left the old ladies with their buckets of bananas back in Hanoi. The motorbike dudes and cyclo (like a pedal-powered rickshaw) drivers are as insistent as ever, and counterfeit just about anythings can be picked up from the street corner without too much hassle.

Eventually made it down to the Saigon river ("Boat trip Sir, you take boat trip!") - sadly not quite as picturesque or as romantic as the name suggests, the raw sewage again made me think twice about whether I wanted to spend the afternoon cruising a foot or so above the fetid water or not.

Time for a few jars in Underground themed bar, very weird seeing maps of the tube again, in the very last place you'd imagine them. Cue a steaming bowl of pho, and ready to hit the sack - although why why why I let anyone talk me into ordering a bowl of beef flank, trip and innards with my noodles, I really don't know. I blame lack of sleep.

Nha Trang

2004-08-13T14:52:00.000+08:00

As always happens, time's running out just as you're getting in the swing of enjoying yourself. Time, on the other hand, seems to pass excruciatingly slowly if you're waiting for Vietnamese dial-up modems to load a page - something guaranteed to put you in a royally awful mood despite being within an arm's reach of a fresh coconut and the warm sun feels good on your face. There can be few things as frustrating as sitting in front of a blank computer screen as sweat trickles down your cheek, flies buzzing around your legs and all you can think of is how much those mosquito bies itch, and the likelihood of whether I've caught Dengue Fever.

However, after a tedious, tedious 12 hr bus trip last night, it doesn't seem all that bad now. Through some logic unbeknown to myself, our friendly driver, after yelling at me for not producing my ticket quickly enough, decided to stop for dinner at 11.30pm, and again for a quick breakfast at 4am. Any illusions of sleep were thus quashed at the earliest opportunity.

Long distance trips are as a rule uneventful, although a good chance to think a few things through, before getting annoyed that everyone else around you has managed to get to sleep, while you're just wiiiiide awake.

Our stop for dinner kept me vaguely amused however, upon reading what delights they had in store for travel-weary overnight busfolk. In the end, it was a toss-up between "Instant Noodle with beep" or "Instant noodle with Park" - opting for the former just to hear the waitress scream it to her Mum in the kitchen out the back. Couldn't help but snigger as my order of beep was taken.

I don't think I've ever waited so long for an instant noodle - half an hour later I was still as hungry as the dog next to me, scratching itself and doing the whole big-eye routine to the group of French guys. Faithful to sod's law, just as the bowl arrived, the driver announced we'd be on our way. Instant noodles aren't great at the best of times - beep or no beep - but when you're trying to wolf it down before Mr Yelling Driver leaves you stranded in the middle of Vietnamese nowhereland, it's not great cuisine.

Anyhow, sleep starved but pleased to have arrived, we pulled into Nha Trang, which I'd heard pretty good things about. And quite right too. I guess this is how Phuket was about 20 years ago - before the titty bars, the mulletted Germans and guys cruising for young boys rocked into town. The beach is wonderful, the water turquoise and clean, and the green mountains in the distance give it that Maui vibe. It still feels very Vietnamese, however, ie it hasn't been taken over by restaurants serving 'International Food', or advertising the fact that they have the best Bratwurst in town.

One big bowl of Pho from a roadside stand later, I was on the beach, cold beer in hand. Life is good once again. However, note to self: never close your eyes for 'just one minute' lying in the hot sun after having minimal sleep the night before. Woke up 2 hours later having been given a solid beating from the sun, but was so tired I fell asleep right away again, having just been able to turn over in my sleep and beer coma so that by the end of the day my whole body was a deep pink.

Next, cue the little lady selling fresh seafood from buckets walking along the beach - talked us into just caught lobster, prawns, scallops, crab, for some ridiculous price. Cold beer, fresh, cheap seafood, no hawkers trying to sell you crap t-shirts - this is the life.

Sadly, time is running out, and next stop is Ho Chi Minh city, but it seems so much more exotic if I say I'm taking the night train to Saigon. Which I am... I wonder how much sleep I can muster this evening??

Hoi An

2004-08-11T16:36:00.000+08:00

Ok, well here I am now about half way down the length of this incredible country, can't quite grasp how big it is... Certainly nobody ever told me before I booked myself on two overnight bus journeys and two overnight train journeys. All a/c free, of course, and not a stick of deodorant in sight.

Anyhow, feeling particularly decadent this afternoon, after having found a sweet family-run tailor shop who can create pretty much anything I ask for for ludicruous prices. Wasn't really looking for anything, but am about to go and pick up a fantastically camp cream/white suit, (getting in the whole colonial idea a bit much maybe) some pin-stripe black trousers, and three shirts. All made in 24 hours - for the fraction of the price it'll cost you in HK, Singapore, or even Shenzhen. Plus you get pampered by Vietnamese chicks who tell you that their granny fancies you. Great for the ego.

But, my friends, none of this would be complete, or as much wanton spending were it not for my hand-made blue suede shoes. Oh yes, oh yes. Just because I can. Not sure I can wear them with anything I possess, but surely it's one of those life rites you have to go through - how can anyone pass up the opportunity to have some blue suede shoes made? Life feels great right now as a result.

Cheated a little bit on my way down by grabbing a plane from Hanoi to Da Nang - (used to be the 3rd busiest airport in the world during the war, supposedly - which is madness when you think about it). Nearly didn't make it though after enlisting the help of the frikkin slowest and most inept taxi driver in the whole of South East Asia - I shit you not. This dude in Hanoi was deliberately taking every longer route possible, was being overtaken by the swarms of shitty motorbikes on the main drag to the airport, and was driving painfully, excruciatingly slow. Sadly, my Vietnamese isn't quite up to being able to berate him for his pathetic driving ability, but I also didn't think it would help our cause that much either - we were at the mercy of his souped-up Honda and unpredictable motoring whims.

All was going to plan, if somewhat snail-paced, when the police decided to close the entire road to the airport - in both directions. Prime Minister of Myanmar was in town, apparently, and to show respect you clearly have to bring the city's traffic to a standstill.

So with a broad grin he pointed to the policemen, undid his seatbelt, and turned the radio up loud to bombard us in the back with Vietnamese Hit parade. I was having a serious sense of humour failure as I watched the taxi-meter tick....and tick....and tick....and tick....

Made it with about 5 minutes to spare, although a group of heavily made-up middle aged Italian women kept the plane from taking off on time, presumably on some cosmetic surgery tour of Asia judging by their dodgy facelifts and bright orange or purple hair.

Anyhow, Hoi An, where I find myself at the moment, is a true delight. The French colonial atmosphere gives it a real charm, the walls washed with yellow and blue gleam in the intense sun, as bright pink and purple flowers tumble over them from the cool courtyards behind. The pace of life is so slow it's going in reverse- and it feels just so relaxing. Aside from the fact that everyone is trying to sell you something - people on every street corner hawking even water, of all things - it is a great break from the madness of Hanoi and the forceful selling mode of the hill tribes.

It's just so easy to get carried away buying and buying and buying here - when you can get an awesome tailored suit for US$30, it's hard to say no - and that's even before you get illusions of getting shoes made in a ridiculous colour.

Next stop is party town on the beach, Nha Trang, before ending the trip in Saigon where I've got another couple of freebie nights in a posh hotel where I can chill my boots for a while. Perhaps time for another cold one before the bus tonight. Fantastic.Ok, well here I am now about half way down the length of this incredible country, can't quite grasp how big it is... Certainly nobody ever told me before I booked myself on two overnight bus journeys and two overnight train journeys. All a/c free, of course, and not a stick of deodorant in sight.

Anyhow, feeling particularly decadent this afternoon, after having found a sweet family-run tailor shop who can create pretty much anything I ask for for ludicruous prices. Wasn't really looking for anything, but am about to go and pick up a fantastically camp cream/white suit, (getting in the whole colonial idea a bit much maybe) some pin-stripe black trousers, and three shirts. All made in 24 hours - for the fraction of the price it'll cost you in HK, Singapore, or even Shenzhen. Plus you get pampered by Vietnamese chicks who tell you that their granny fancies you. Great for the ego.

But, my friends, none of this would be complete, or as much wanton spending were it not for my hand-made blue suede shoes. Oh yes, oh yes. Just because I can. Not sure I can wear them with anything I possess, but surely it's one of those life rites you have to go through - how can anyone pass up the opportunity to have some blue suede shoes made? Life feels great right now as a result.

Cheated a little bit on my way down by grabbing a plane from Hanoi to Da Nang - (used to be the 3rd busiest airport in the world during the war, supposedly - which is madness when you think about it). Nearly didn't make it though after enlisting the help of the frikkin slowest and most inept taxi driver in the whole of South East Asia - I shit you not. This dude in Hanoi was deliberately taking every longer route possible, was being overtaken by the swarms of shitty motorbikes on the main drag to the airport, and was driving painfully, excruciatingly slow. Sadly, my Vietnamese isn't quite up to being able to berate him for his pathetic driving ability, but I also didn't think it would help our cause that much either - we were at the mercy of his souped-up Honda and unpredictable motoring whims.

All was going to plan, if somewhat snail-paced, when the police decided to close the entire road to the airport - in both directions. So with a broad grin he pointed to the policemen, undid his seatbelt, and turned the radio up loud to bombard us in the back with Vietnamese Hit parade. I was having a serious sense of humour failure as I watched the taxi-meter tick....and tick....and tick....and tick....

Made it with about 5 minutes to spare, although a group of heavily made-up middle aged Italian women kept the plane from taking off on time, presumably on some cosmetic surgery tour of Asia judging by their dodgy facelifts and bright orange or purple hair.

Anyhow, Hoi An, where I find myself at the moment, is a true delight. The French colonial atmosphere gives it a real charm, the walls washed with yellow and blue gleam in the intense sun, as bright pink and purple flowers tumble over them from the cool courtyards behind. The pace of life is so slow it's going in reverse- and it feels just so relaxing. Aside from the fact that everyone is trying to sell you something - people on every street corner hawking even water, of all things - it is a great break from the madness of Hanoi and the forceful selling mode of the hill tribes.

It's just so easy to get carried away buying and buying and buying here - when you can get an awesome tailored suit for US$30, it's hard to say no - and that's even before you get illusions of getting shoes made in a ridiculous colour.

Next stop is party town on the beach, Nha Trang, before ending the trip in Saigon where I've got another couple of freebie nights in a posh hotel where I can chill my boots for a while. Perhaps time for another cold one before the bus tonight. Fantastic.

Sapa

2004-08-08T16:49:00.000+08:00

Have a few moments now to sit down and scratch my plentiful mosquito bites, even to dip into a painfully slow internet cafe for a while.

Currently hugging the Chinese border at a small mountain town taking refuge from the rain that has plagued us since we arrived from Hanoi 3 days ago. It when it rains, it really really rains. Have been completely soaked for days now, now all my clothes in my mould-gathering backpack have a wonderful wet dog aroma which isn't going down too well.

But despite the rains, it is seriously beautiful up here. We're in the middle of the mountains, and every steep slope a wonderful green colour, cut into thousands of terraces where rice grows amongst the hill tribe villages. Hundreds of rivers and waterfalls run through dense bamboo forests, but watch out for the bastard leeches that prey on unsuspecting walkers...

Of course, this isn't to mention the bloody loud motorbikes that manage to make it over the quagmires that are used for roads, plus the ubiquitous jeeps left over from the American war that insist on beeping their sodding horns just to let you know that they're right behind you/infront of you/nowhere near you.

The hill tribes are the reason most people take the 10 hour train to get here. And they're definitely worth the effort - there's about 7 minority people in this corner of Vietnam, and each has their particular culture, clothing and language. Tourists have been making a beeline for this place for years - so at times it does feel a bit like Disneyland visiting the closest villages, when you're greeted by young kids and old ladies with faultless English. They even have a smattering of Japanese, French and anything else they've managed to absorb from tourists that pass through - but to witness this from a 6 year old child, it's pretty impressive.

Their initial script is all the same though: "Where are you from?"
"England"
"Oooh. London."
"No."
"Yes."
"Erm, ok then."
"How old are you?"
"insert absolutely any age at all"
"Oh, so young."
"That is your girlfriend?"
"Yes. (indicate any female within half a mile)"
"Oh. So beautiful."
"She is Vietnamese?"
"No."
"Oh. So beautiful. Buy me blanket.." ad nauseam

They're all trained in the ancient art of Screw the tourists for as much as you can. This is serious hard-sell territory. "Buy me, buy me, buy me!" they chorus, followed by "Why you buy her, you no buy me?". Cue guilt trip - before you know it, pillowcases, blankets, jackets, bags and a whole myriad of bracelets are thrust in your general direction. Some of the things are great - but as they're made from crushed hemp, they have a tendency to bleed all over your hands, arms and anything else that comes into contact with them.

So, being the culturally-sensitive metrosexual male that I am, I picked up a bit of the lingo. I have mastered the following phrases in Vietnamese, H'mong and Dzao:

* Hello
* Goodbye
* Thank you
* No thank you, I don't want to buy from you
* I have no more money left
* Numbers 1-4 (can't remember most of the others)

Now what else could you possibly need? Impressive, huh?

Legs are still pretty knackered from walking up and down the sides of the same valley yesterday - having to turn back every now and then as we couldn't cross the rivers due the the frequent downpours making the stream into a fully fledged torrent. Staying overnight with the villagers was a real experience - although somewhat cheapened by the banana pancakes our guide cooked for us the next morning... So much for eating the traditional fare...

Off now to suck on a warm Tiger beer (the concept of cold beer still hasn't quite penetrated this far, so far as I can see) and maybe chow down one or two Korean Choco-Pies that are everywhere. Who says globalisation is all bad?

Hanoi

2004-08-05T18:38:00.000+08:00

Currently sitting sweating my proverbials off in some cafe in Hanoi having turned an attractive shade of crimson with sunburn. Us Brits will never learn.

Haven't got long, and I daresay instalments of my intrepid adventures will be infrequent, but have one or two observations to make about Hanoi.

* It's bloody hot.

* Food is awesome.

* City is endearingly crazy. A bit like an old French town on speed.

* I feel like a millionaire - $500HK is equivalent to a MILLION Dong. Bring it on.

* Cds for $3HK, DVDs for $9. 'nuff said.

* I appear to look like I want to buy bananas from women in conical hats every two minutes. I don't.
* Most locals assume my (female) travelling companion is my hired hooker. She's not.
* The thousands of clapped out motorbikes whizzing past your ear make you pray for some semblance of pavement. There isn't one.

Just been off on a boat for a couple of days around some incredible islands in Halong Bay - like The Beach all over again, but without the shark attack. Beautiful, seriously beautiful. Am off on a night train this evening up towards the Chinese border to do a spot of trekking and no doubt be relieved of a fair amount of my Vietnamese Dong by their strong-armed sales techniques. Saw my first knife fight this afternoon in broad daylight so am assured I'm getting the truly authentic Vietnamese experience.

I know how to say Dog meat in Viet now, so scouring the small print in the menus for that just in case these jokers decide to slip in a side of Fido fries with my noodles. Apparently all the tales are true - you go out the back, choose which unfortunate mutt gets the chop, and then stand back and take photos while the poor bugger is spit-roasted. Grand.

I daresay I'll stick to chicken. Pho Ga, my man, Pho Ga.

Right, I'm out of here. Next update when I get a moment!

Rush rush rush

2004-08-01T13:44:00.000+08:00

Off to 'Nam tomorrow so gotta lodda o' stuff to sort out before then. Worse still, when I come back I have 10 days before leaving HK altogether and in that time I still need to hit up to Beijing and find somewhere to live for next year. Sooo much to do and bugger all time to do it in. Got to figure out plans for a mad leaving do as well, plus leave ample time for friends to declare undying love for me and the like.

Upgrade to WordPress will have to wait until I'm back from Vietnam - still struggling with the basics over there so when I've got more than 2 minutes I'll sort it all out and get it looking all groovy. So bear with me.

Last time I was in SE Asia I got completely MUNCHED by the 'skeeters. Got to go and load up on Off! and all the rest of the garb. Isn't Vit B supposed to help you as well?

Shocked

2004-08-01T13:31:00.000+08:00

It's my brother's first time in Asia. He's just been in Oz and NZ on his last batch of freedom before selling his soul to do law in the City, and popped into HK to say hi to his little brother on the way back to London. He's just a year and a bit older than me, and aside from his taste in haircuts, fairly on the ball with most things. Except at times, he is excruciatingly naive...

So anyhow, after our epic pool and sunbathing session yesterday, it was only fair to show him the sights - so straight out to Wanchai. Usual suspects - Delaney's, Devil's etc - but then decided to ditch birds in tow and cut loose for a bit - bro's together again. Lightning tour of Wanchai followed - Groovy Mule, Carnegie's (you haven't been to HK until you've danced on that bar - so I'm told), Mes Amis etc, but then pulled out the big guns and headed to Fenwicks, Laguna, and the piece de resistance, Neptune II. Class.

He found all this rather amusing, and we were doing typical brother catch-up chat - you know the type, discuss the parents, the recent death of the dog, bla bla.

Great soundbite from him, pointing towards the washed up, greasy expats hanging on the bar, hookers pawing him - "If you stay in Asia, you're not going to end up like them, are you?". Hmmmm...

Anyhow, all was going well until his haze of naivety burst, and he realised why all these Thai chicks kept coming up and wanting to talk to us.

Great soundbite no. 2: "Wow, they're really friendly here".

*Clunk* Penny drops.

"Oh my God. Get me out of here. They said I can do anything I want for $2000!". Runs off, tail in between his legs.

First time in Asia, first time in Neptunes. Says he's scarred for life...

Country Ranch

2004-08-01T12:29:00.000+08:00

For those of us living on the island, often the very thought of crossing the harbour to the Dark side brings some of us out in a cold sweat. Clearly, we all prefer paying exorbitant rents and highly inflated living costs - but I digress, 'tis not the subject of which I speak.

Out of the blue, got an invite to join some mates up near Sai Kung for a chilled day at mate's self-named "PHAT PAD" (he's American, if that explains it). So it takes a bit of mental energy to psyche yourself up to getting on the MTR, changing a few times, getting on a minibus, then getting a taxi - but then with a reality check, realising 4 quid each in a taxi direct from home really isn't enough to induce a shit-fit.

Dude in the taxi thought I was completely crazy, asking to go to Sai Kung from Central - "Do you know where Sai Kung is?" he asked quizically. Hmmm, yes, drive on, my man.

Anyhow - what an amazing feeling it is to just get out of the city. This place has been driving me mad for faaar too long - and just to get out, breathe some fresh air and be amongst greenery without 5,000 people staring at me from their cubby-holes in the towers around me - just such a release.

I wasn't born a city guy - grew up in the West Country in England - so adapting to this urban madness has been tricky at times. But times like yesterday when you can getaway and sit in a garden, have a dip in a swimming pool etc - awesome.

I guess I was just amazed by how much a city can drag you down - sure it's fun, and you wouldn't want to live anywhere else, most of the time - but to head out to a real house, with a real kitchen, in the hills, amongst the countryside, seeing a view that isn't made of concrete and asphalt - how often do you get that?

The only real bitch is getting back though. After you've gorged yourself stupid on seafood, the last thing you want to do is trek back to your lil' cupboard on the island. Minibus, MTR and bus later, you're even more knackered than when you started...

Comments

2004-07-30T17:18:00.000+08:00

Ok, nearly ready to go here. Managed to import all entries from Blogger to new site, as well as the archives, but I've lost all my comments! Can I import them as well, or will I have to start with none?!

Wait for it....

2004-07-30T14:17:00.000+08:00

Finally I have shrugged off my technophobe cloak and have succeeded in downloading and configuring Word Press. Oh yes, oh yes, it's true. So all I need to do now is find out how to make it stop looking so gay and *shazam* the conversion will be complete.

Aren't you exciting? (as one of my students would say)

Mullet

2004-07-30T11:38:00.000+08:00

My brother arrived this morning from NZ, really frikkin early and piled round to my place about 8am clamouring something about breakfast. If that wasn't bad enough, it seems on his travels he has cultivated a curly, greasy mullet and the dreaded 'traveller's beard'.

"It wasn't actually that bad until I got here, must be the humidity."

Hmmm, maybe. But this is serious Chesney Hawkes territory.

Family bonding haircut may be in order, methinks.

Ho Ho Ho

2004-07-29T23:02:00.000+08:00

When George Bush met The Queen, he turned round and said:

"As I'm the President, I'm thinking of changing how America is referred to, and I'm thinking that it should be a Kingdom"

"I'm sorry Mr Bush," said the Queen, "but to be a Kingdom, you have to have a King in charge - and you're not a King."

After thinking for a while, George Bush said: "How about a Principality then?"

To which the Queen replied: "Again, to be a Principality you have to be a Prince - and you're not a Prince, Mr Bush".

Bush thought long and hard and came up with, "What about an Empire?"

The Queen was getting a little annoyed by now.

"Sorry again, Mr Bush, but to be an Empire you must have an Emperor in charge - and you are not an Emperor."

Before George Bush could utter another word, the Queen said:

"I think you're doing rather nicely as a Country".

Installation hassle

2004-07-29T16:36:00.000+08:00

Don't know why it isn't working, but it ain't. Downloaded WordPress. Re-configured the wp-config.php file with Database name, Username and Password. Loaded it all up to my FTP. When it comes to running the install programme, none of the steps work - just get a load of code and all round gobbeldegook.

Web hosts DO run PHP and MySQL so shouldn't be a problem there. But something's not going down well. Frustrating.

Converting... nearly

2004-07-29T13:11:00.000+08:00

Right then, trying to make the jump from Blogger onto Wordpress for various reasons. Accordingly, apologies for lack of anything remotely interesting here today.

Was all looking so good when I ran the installation programme to be greeted with a huge page of rubbish - no steps, as it runs through the whole thing. Then it gives me my username and no password. Can't guess my site either.

Does this mean my web hosts can support it? I've tried emailing them but no reply as yet.

Having another look at the instructions, I need to configure the wp-config.php file, but I reckon I've not done it right, as I haven't got a name for a database. So, back to the hosts - in trying to set up a database with them, I'm asked how many fields I want. Now, I have no idea how many I'll need for Word Press. Any thoughts? Or does it sound like I need to change hosts?

Geeky Weather Programme

2004-07-29T10:50:00.000+08:00

Don't know if anyone else managed to see it, but whilst in vegetative recovery last night, I saw a programme on the BBC about the impending phenomenon of environmental refugees. Ok, it wasn't my normal type o'thing, but the facts were actually quite scary. BBC has a piece on it today here.

One of the most surprising thoughts was that the Maldives, island haven laced with coconuts, awesome beaches and vomitously loved-up couples on their honeymoons, is on the way out due to the rise in sea levels.

Since 80% of its 1,200 islands are no more than 1m above sea level, within 100 years the Maldives could become uninhabitable.

That is scary stuff - could you imagine your whole country - not just one small island/area etc - literally falling into the sea?

In an incredible display of the BBC needlessly wasting license payers' money, several correspondents had been sent out to various arseholes of the planet to comment on the apocalyptical situation pending. The guy in the Maldives had it easy - and he knew it - prancing through the waves on his way to oggle the local talent with pina colada in hand.

The poor bastard stationed in Dead Horse (real name, God knows why) in Alaska wasn't particularly amused, but he had the best story. Apparently there's a load of islands up there inhabited by Inuit communities that are literally turning to dust. For centuries they've been frozen together by the temperatures - but now it's getting a tad warmer, the whole place is disintegrating, just disappearing. Now that too, is scary shit.

By far the best part, however, was Mr and Mrs Nauseating from Manchester who, in an inexplicable moment of originality, decided to buy a holiday home in Marbella, South of Spain. Costa del Crime, innit. Leather-skinned and bottle blonde, she had lugged the two disgusting kids from Southport, unheeded by warnings that in a few years time, Marbella will be as hot as Sauda Arabia. Now that is hardcore heat. But undeterred, "The hotter the better!" she quipped, reaching for another B&H and her pint of gin before falling over.

You've got to love Brits abroad.

Bummer

2004-07-28T17:38:00.000+08:00

Just got an email from my brother. He's in New Zealand driving around the South Island for a while.

Except he's not now.

Turns out he just got a speeding ticket, and with their zero tolerance laws, had to surrender the hire car. So now he's out on his arse with a huge suitcase, trying to get around now on a push bike. He's gotta be well popular with the girlfriend right now...

And your name is.....

2004-07-28T17:12:00.000+08:00

Just a follow-up to that last post (well, the one below this one, anyhow).

When I was younger, I used to work in a hotel, as a Concierge - you know, the guy who gives you information, books you restaurants, solves ridiculous problems that can only happen to the clueless uberrich, and parks cars. (That last part was great - the look on the faces of some of these people handing me, a 17 yr old, the keys to their brand new Bentley/Jag/Merc/Beemer - just fantastic. And I'd only passed my driving test a couple of months before - what was the management thinking!?!).

Anyhow, I also used to show people to their hideously-overpriced rooms and lug their leopard skin suitcases after them, during which time I was required to indulge in a little small talk. Most of the time, it's no problem, just drag out the usual "Hello Mr. X, where have you come from today? How was the traffic?" Bla bla blah bullshit bullshit, butter-them-up-give-me-a-tip kinda language.

This was, however, a pretty posh hotel, and we used to get a lot of actors and musicians staying there - so quite often, you were meeting various C-list celebrities, and the like. However, one day, U2 were in town, and lo and behold, they stayed with us. Didn't get to meet Bono, I think he took the back entrance with his heaving amount of groupies or something, but the rest of the crew were there. So, that afternoon, I was paged by dim Austrian chick on reception, and asked to come and show a "Mr. Edge" to his room.

Mr. "Edge"? What, so his friends all call him "The"?

He'd quite clearly had it so many times and wasn't seeing the hilarity of the situation, so I played safe and stuck to the universally arse-licking 'Sir'.

But this does beg the question - what do you call these people who appear to be above the whole name thing? Does Meat Loaf sign his Xmas cards "All my love, Meat"? What about the guitar-squealing Slash himself? Or Prince? Would an official letter be addressed to Mr Diddy? On his death certificate, was it recorded as Pac, Tu?

Dad Music

2004-07-28T16:41:00.000+08:00

There's some great Meat Loaf knowledge from Harry here. Surely one of the all time greatest cheese-fest albums. Fourth-best selling album in Australian Indie record shops last week. Good work.

For me, it's a top reminder of those tunes my Dad would play continuously years ago in the black N-reg Ford Scorpio (the model before the fcuked up the lights at the front) whilst careering down the M4 at 100 miles an hour. Bass hammed all the way up, treble at the lowest notch, enough to make the loose change on the dashboard shudder as Mr Loaf ripped into one infectious chorus after another. This was no tapping of the steering wheel stuff - it was serious headbanging as only an eleven year old could - with visions that one day, I might also grow a greasy black mullet and hang out with chicks with frighteningly bright lipstick and tight French perms.

If it wasn't Bat out of Hell on repeat, it was most likely Status Quo who stepped up next. Rockin' all over the World, Pictures of Matchstick Men - again, anthem after anthem would echo around the country lanes of North East Somerset, complete with car-adapted air guitars for increased listening pleasure.

Cream and Eric Clapton also got a good airing, so too John Lee Hooker, and any other hastily botched-together compilation gingerly crouching behind the multi-purpose title 'Blues', picked up at some God-awful service station during a frequent cross-country trip in the Scorpio.

Indeed, my Dad would acquire such an impressive variety of these all-but-identical albums (all containing at least one Blues Brothers number, RESPECT, and more often than not something that did not even remotely qualify for R&B, let alone BLUES) that they occasionally migrated into the house, until the eagle eye of my mother sifted the wheat from the chaff, as 'twere.

The Who and Canned Heat one day found themselves accompanied by new acquisition Soul Asylum, but such forays into more modern music were soon put aside as Status Quo and Meat Loaf returned to their rightful position at the pinnacle of Dads' Driving Music.

And there they remain, to this day.

And then there were three...

2004-07-28T15:38:00.000+08:00

Right. Going out on a limb here and saying things are finally looking better. Aside from my wisdom teeth being a frikkin pain in the arse, I've dispatched strange tropical fever thing and am considering breaking the self-enforced diet of congee and soup. I hate congee anyway.

Back in the office now, to find that there's only TWO other people here. Two? Where the hell is everyone else? Sick. WTF is going on? Everyone's been dropping like flies since I've been out last week. Now the whole thing's ground to a halt - this is freaky shit.

Feng Shui, mate, it's slowly killing us all.

Naked Photos

2004-07-28T15:20:00.000+08:00

I need this job.

"Immigration officers are having to pore over naked pictures of hundreds of exotic dancers to keep imposters out of Canada."

Might be quite amusing at first, but I'd reckon you'd then get a load of minging hein-dogs trying to get into the country by playing the 'Fetish' card - photos you'd have to sift through all day. I shudder at the thought - brings back memories from those good ol' Brazilianshemales.com marathons in college.

Whole article here.

Tabula Rasa

2004-07-28T14:55:00.000+08:00

Ok, so I now have this new computer. And I can't get enough of it. However, knowing how easy it is to load a whole load of useless stuff onto these machines, I have declared my new baby a crap-free zone. I don't want it rife with viruses/spyware/pop-ups and needlessly slowed down by other programs I'll use maybe once in my life.

So I'm asking for advice.

At the moment, aside from the MSN Messenger I added, the computer's pretty much a tabula rasa. So if you were in the same position, what programs would you install right away, and which ones would you steer clear from? What's the best way to avoid loading up the machine with cyber-bollocks? Am going to install Microsoft Office, but aside from that, no plans as yet.

Any suggestions on what I should do, and what I'd bloody better not do are more than welcome.

Firefox?

2004-07-28T14:50:00.000+08:00

I notice there's quite a few people who are making the move away from Internet Explorer and onto this Firefox chap. So what's that all about then? What are the benefits of doing that? Is it safer, faster, easier? All of the above?

I'm rather partial to the big homely blue E - computer's equivalent to the Golden 'M'/Golden Arches - but saying that, is Internet Explorer the 'junk food' of all web browsers? Should it best be avoided?

Loud bark, minimal bite

2004-07-27T18:49:00.000+08:00

From today's SCMP Observer:

"For the first time since the handover, the British government's six-monthly report to parliament on Hong Kong does not claim that "One country, two systems" is working well in practice, or that the rights and freedoms promised in the Sino-British Joint Declaration and the Basic Law continue to be upheld.

...Thus, while it does not openly accuse China of having violated the Sino-British agreement, it comes close."

With the huge expansion of the Chinese economy, obviously it is in Britain's interests to be best buddies with Mr Red. However, with these criticisms, Beijing can't be best pleased. Britain has hardly minced her words this time - underlining the importance Hong Kong still holds for them.

Thing is, of course, if China does decide to just plough on ahead with its grand plan regardless, what can Britain do about it?

Absolutely nothing.

The agreement does not expire until 2047 - but with China making as much as an impact on the political panorama as it has done in the last few years in HK, I daresay Britain jumping up and down infront of a industrialised Chinese superpower will have fairly minimal impact.

Attempting Geekery

2004-07-27T15:36:00.000+08:00

Well, decided to take a bit of a roadtrip down the hill to Pacific Coffee, pert lil' laptop sug under my arm to use through the wireless connection just because I can. Seems like I can't get it gratis though - if I try and connect through PCCW the guys want cash for it. Bit of a bitch as there's free internet here anyway, if only the chick with the impossibly large earrings would let anyone else have a go. Don't really know half of what this computer can do, but from what I can see, it is awesome. Sound is a bit lame when I want to crack out some monstah salsa choons, but it is a laptop. Might have to properly Kev it up and attach a couple of bass bins and Kenwood speakers to the back, or lower its suspension or something. Great.

In the last month, pretty much around the time I started writing this blog, I've realised just how hopelessly out of the loop I am when it comes to computers and their capabilities. What's more, I feel really, really stupid trying to do all these things I hear people talking about - as I haven't got a clue where to start.

I thought I was very much the man when I designed my own web page. My head swelled with pride when I managed to fiddle around with photos, text and other bits and pieces. I was certainly the MACDADDY when I began to fiddle with templates here and there, learnt what a 'Source' is, and juggled with acronyms like HTML and CSS. Friends began to look at me in a new light, with an added hint of reverence, of respect, of envy: here was a true pioneer of the digital age. Look at him - they would remark - with his own web page, his potential is massive. The possibilities are endless. How fortunate we are to be living in his shadow.

Truth is though, I'm hopeless, totally clueless about it all. I guess people learn all their techie garb from their friends - the token geeky mate, last choice on the football pitch, but first pick after hours - but none of my mates have got a bleedin' clue about it either. I'm clearly hanging out with all the wrong people. Trying to be clever, I try to enlist help online using appropriately bizarre pseudonyms on message boards and the like - but always always always I'm greeted with a plethora of snot-nosed kids or bald middle-aged men with beards whose answers to my questions are so bloody complicated and make no sense. It's really frustrating - like I missed the boat to this immense pool of knowledge, and now I keep taking volleys in my quest to unlock some of that expertise.

I wish I could find a way of filling in the gaping chasms in my knowledge. Perhaps it is only in surrendering to the geek inside me that I'll manage it. I shall become one. Geekdom awaits me.

So how would you feel if...

2004-07-27T15:12:00.000+08:00

You're heading back to the UK for 2 weeks, the West Country in the summer, seeing family and friends you haven't seen in over a year - but with the caveat that you're going to spend most of the time in bed recovering from having your wisdom teeth yanked out?

Looks like this is what I have to look forward to when I go back. An operation. Nice.
Recently, friends have made a point of letting me know just how painful the wisdom teeth operation is. I've looked up the info on the net. It ain't pretty. Heard all the stories about how people suddenly come to in the operating theatre, just in time to see the dentist tugging away at your jaw, his foot on your chest, yanking away. I've heard all about the soup and ice-cream diet for days afterwards (hey, but at least I'll be used to that, after this week...). I know about the hamster cheeks. I've seen photos of post-op infections. I know, I know, I know, it's not top entertainment.

But, I guess, its either have it done back in England - or find some dude when I get up to Beijing. Just the mere thought of that scares the shit out of me...

Congee

2004-07-27T12:23:00.000+08:00

Right, enough of this, I'm thoroughly bored of being ill now. It's like my life has been on hold for the last week while toss and turn in bed or watch DVD after DVD - ramming an obscene amount of pills down my gullet whilst I'm at it.

The old wisdom teeth have now joined in the party, so now I'm starting to feel better, I can only eat soup and congee. Frikkin brilliant. Could really do with getting stuck into a heinously large steak, roast spuds, a good cuzza, batch of chicken wings, big bowl of Phad Thai, maybe a banoffee pie to wind it up. I'm soooo hungry.... but the thought of bloody congee again is about as enticing as snacking on toothpaste.

And this is pretty much my last week in Hong Kong! I'm supposed to be 'avin' it large each and every night, drinks and chicks etc etc, but no. Just the soup.

New Toy

2004-07-26T13:29:00.000+08:00

One thing I did manage to achieve over a very, very dull weekend in bed, was to buy this laptop. Nice, shiny, new Sony to play with. Coming at y'all live and very dangerous from it right now, can't quite get enough of it. Bring it on.

Still Home

2004-07-26T13:23:00.000+08:00

Well, this is getting a bit much, to be honest. Pretty much my last week here in Hong Kong now, and I'm still house-bound. Bit like as a kid when you managed to wangle the day off school - when you found out that after the novelty of the lie-in wears off, being ill isn't actually all that much fun.

Certainly ain't cheap either. That's two doctors visits I've had in the last three days, I'm taking half a pharmacy's worth of pills, and now over a couple of thousand dollars worse off. I'm reduced to eating soup and congee, even chocolate mousse is too much... Have to bottom out sometime, surely?

iWant iPod

2004-07-25T12:19:00.000+08:00

Itching to buy an Ipod. When are these new bad boys coming out then? I don't want to do a Shaky. Last I heard the mini ones' release date was pushed back for some reason, but can't decide if they're a bit girly. If you've got 1000+ songs netted, you really want something of a decent size, else you'd lose it down the back of the sofa or something.

I remember when I made the transition from brick generation mobile phones (you know, the Nokia ones that everyone had) to the impossibly small Nokia. Thought I'd lost it for the best part of a week when I found it again in my back pocket. Oh, the perils of technology.

Today's Tropical Disease is....

2004-07-24T20:24:00.000+08:00

Well, I can certainly file yesterday's assessment under 'Spoke too Soon'. Here I am, back to writing from my bed, fever is back with a vengeance and with a rather spectacular throat infection just to add a little local colour. Great.

So, after my outburst against local Western medicine doctors yesterday, I was forced to gulp down an all-too generous portion of humble pie and seek an expert's opinion this morning. This was not before scaring myself shitless making a self-diagnosis by means of our dear old friend the internet. We've all tried it - and all come away wishing we hadn't...

I don't know why I always turn to Google at the suggestion that something untoward is happening to my body. A huge surplus of time on my hands, maybe. But we all know the drill - enter in all the symptoms we can think of, hit enter and..... what do you know? 45,363 hits all telling you that you have prostate cancer or a nasty strain of Legionnaire's disease. It isn't until the third time of searching and on the 12th page that there's a mild suggestion you might have an allergy, or God forbid, a cold coming on - up comes a never-ending stream of information educating you and something you swear to God you wish you never get.

But now you've seen it in glorious HTML, you're convinced you do actually have it. And you can't leave the page until you know the instructions by heart on how to cure it. Or if there is no cure, you're automatically up to date on scientists who think they are close to finding a vaccine, or can treat the terrible symptoms in any way - just in case you do have it. Which you probably do. After all, the internet said so.

So anyway, I'm currently fighting the chain of logic that concludes that I have contracted throat cancer, am having a particularly bad first outbreak of herpes, or a rather late onset of hand, food and mouth disease. All highly possible eventualities, according to Google.

What was it I said the other day about having a gun in the room when you're sick???

Didn't cross my mind..

2004-07-23T17:12:00.000+08:00

Do I need malaria pills for Vietnam? Don't know if I can be arsed to take them really...

Dobbin Choc Chip

2004-07-23T16:37:00.000+08:00

What's wrong with your Vanilla, Strawberry or Chocolate basics?

Japanese ice-cream lovers have swapped traditional flavours such as raspberry ripple for something a little more exotic - horse-flesh.
As Tokyo swelters in soaring temperatures, people are being invited to cool off by choosing from a variety of unusual flavours.
Garlic, potato and lettuce, and cactus and seaweed along with raw horse-flesh are now available in Japan's shops.

Whilst we know the French have been doing it for years, soaking it in butter and unleashing it upon any unsuspecting English tourist who dares to try something in the menu their GCSE French isn't really up to, it seems the Japanese can't get enough of tucking into Dobbin. But in an ice-cream? Please.

Having said that, there's a Japanese ice-cream shop on Hennessey Road that dishes out pretty unstomachable flavours too - I think I went for the comedy value of ordering Chicken Curry flavour, which was about as tasty as it sounds. The Tofu and Chilli versions were equally abhorrent.

Supposedly the USDA has been promoting the eating of Horse and Goat meat. There's a fair bit of dissent though, by the looks of this.

Tai Yisaang? Nah, thanks

2004-07-23T15:41:00.000+08:00

Flippin' Nora, what an absolute disaster of a 48 hours that has been. Don't want to count my chickens, but am feeling slightly more human now, and have emerged from my hovel for some fresh air - or at least as fresh as one can get 'round these here parts.

It's not often I'm ill, and even less often I take a day off work, let alone two - but when I do go down, maaan, I go down hard. Couple of days later it's alright again, but during that time it's pretty hands-down dismal. Don't they say that with malaria, if you had a gun in the room, you'd shoot yourself if you had the chance? Well, it wasn't quite that bad... but you get the picture.

I luckily managed to avoid the cries from my colleagues to go and see the doctor, on the basis that he is singularly useless. From what I can see, whenever anyone gets the remotest bit ill - that's it - off to the doctor with you. Forget the whole self-diagnosis, take a couple of Paracetamol and stay in bed - you've got to get your pills. It's like if you don't go, then you're not really ill.

Well, on the two previous occasions in HK when I was really ill, I was carted off to see this guy in Wanchai - he didn't speak English, and I clearly hadn't reached the 'At the Doctor's' chapter in Teach Yourself Cantonese. Knowing that I'd had hardly any sleep, been drinking far too much, and eating junk food all that week - I knew all I needed was a fair amount of kip and a couple of days off the sauce. Now come on, that's obvious - that doesn't warrant a doctor's visit. But no - I was sent to see Dr Chang who informed me that I was run down, I needed some rest, and that I should take it easy for a few days. Good job. Seven years of medical school coming in handy there, and with a smile he relieved me of $350-odd dollars, pushing a small packet of foul mouth lozenges and vitamin C tablets in my direction.

What a complete waste of time and money. From what I've seen, the Western Doctors here only seem to be able to treat your symptoms, not what's actually wrong with you. So I went complaining of a sore throat, feeling tired and weak, and he responded with little more accurancy than the dude at Watson's would have done.

But I guess that's how all my local buddies like to play it - I'm worn out, perhaps I should see a doctor for him to tell me that I'm worn out? Why not cut out the middleman and get yourself some Lemsip, bit of fruit and off the bed with ya?

Anyhow, I'm hoping I won't have to face dear old Dr Chang for a while now, as the Wanbro revival is gathering pace. Still, I ought not to let my nurse/support team know that just yet, should I??

Wanbro out for the count

2004-07-22T20:30:00.000+08:00

Finally managed to drag myself out of bed to see what's been cookin'. Was sent home from work yesterday for running a ferociously high temperature, and spent the day knocked out at home.

Much the same today, high temp, fever, aching, weak - of course, who was to call but my Mother, prompting a tirade of what I should take, when, have I been to see the doctor yet, it sounds like meningitis/Japanese encephalitis/syphilis/malaria bla bla bla.

Don't expect too many updates for the next day or so, because: a) I'll be incapable b) it's not really all that interesting to listen to an invalid c) I can't concentrate on anything for longer than 20 seconds.

This has taken me 20 mins to write so I'm going to take the hint and hit the sack...

Tedious

2004-07-21T11:51:00.000+08:00

Not that it's remotely interesting, but the visa saga continues, indulge me here.

So supposedly you can get multi-entry 'F'visas if you're a) tourist or b) on business trips. Nowhere on the Chinese embassy site does it talk about needing one for being a short-term student, but I'm assured by the Uni and others that this is one I need. Ok, fine.

But, nightmare, only single-entry is available - meaning once I get up to the PRC, I can't leave - or rather I can, but can't come back in. Meaning trip home for Xmas, or to see friends here in HK is out of the question. The lady will be pleased.

But this is the ridiculous part - I already hold a multiple F, for 6 months, and they want me to trade it for a single F - which will presumably be an entirely identical piece of paper slapped in the passport, yet allowing me just one entry.

My query is this: since nowhere on the visa does it say if I'm tourist/working/student, would it be worth risking to just renew a multiple 6-month, say I'm working, and come and go as I pleased? As far as I'm aware, there's not other documents I need to submit when using a visa to get into China.

Risk it for a biscuit? Or swallow hard and deal with it? Not that it's remotely interesting, I just don't want Chinese immigration on my back. Ho hum.

Pac-who??

2004-07-21T11:42:00.000+08:00

Hmmm, not sure it'll catch on, but for some, an intellectual version of Pac-Man is all the rage.

And I quote:

Pac-Mondrian closes the perceptual distance between fine art and video games by combining Piet Mondrian's Modernist masterpiece 'Broadway Boogie Woogie' with Toru Iwatani's classic video game Pac-Man. The project offers gamers a chance to compete for $2000 worth of cash prizes for high score and level design.

Go for it, knock yourself out. I think I'll stick to the original. There's a frightening amount of in-depth Pac-man knowledge here, as well. I didn't think there could possibly be that much to it...

Vector had the scoop.

Not great

2004-07-21T09:43:00.000+08:00

Nothing like a packed, sweaty bus and the mother of all traffic jams to put you into royally awful mood this morning. Discovered on my first mouthful of cereal that the milk had turned to yoghurt - surefire indication today ain't gonna be great. It's now throwing it down and Kowloon seems to have disappeared. Is it too early to go home yet?

Shift from West to East??

2004-07-20T16:09:00.000+08:00

If you have a moment, and are so inclined, have a read of this article from Foreignaffairs.org. Found this during a browse of Marmot's site, and some of the comments are worth a read here.

Personally I don't believe that Washington is as blinkered as many of us are inclined to believe, and does have a fairly good grasp of possible side-effects of substantial economic growth in Asia - but a power transfer does not necessarily mean a power switch per se - the US will continue to be just as instrumental in global policy issues regardless of how much China and India progress in the near future. I believe 9/11 was a clear demonstration that however much Clinton wished to disentangle the US from an interventionist policy of former presidents, there are always groups that will attempt to capitalise on the reticence of the global strongman, to attempt to redress/avenge past issues. Thus, the strongman is unable to retire from the spotlight - but what a great excuse for any gun-toting Republicans that might be at the reigns in the meantime.

The three major flashpoints mentioned - of Kashmir, Taiwan and Korea - are by no means the only causes for concern in the region, and I don't think that economic expansion will necessarily precipitate the end of the status quo, despite some rather apocalyptical interpretations recently.

Perhaps a friendlier face in the White House will welcome the return to a multi-polar world to accomplish its objectives that now seem increasingly more utopian month by month.

China will be a huge force to reckon with in the future, but with a demographical problems-a-plenty it's not likely to run out of control - at least not just yet. It's fairly commonplace to predict the rapid rise of [insert large third-world country] - the Brazilians, Indians and Kenyans have been craving it for years - but shifts in global power happen gradually, not overnight.

Quite why the article focuses quite so heavily on America's reaction - or lack of it - ignores the importance of the rest of the world which is aligning itself into increasingly closer ties. It is only at their peril that the US will ignore the Asian rise, but it might wish to redress its stance on the MERCOSUR block and newly enlarged EU whilst it's at it.

Priceless? Pah.

2004-07-20T10:39:00.000+08:00

Seems my mother wasn't being entirely truthful when she told me I was priceless.

If this website is to be believed, that is.

You are worth exactly: $2,663,056.00.

Sadly, it doesn't give you a breakdown for each of your not-quite-so-vital organs, so maybe Simon's tax bill could still be cause for concern.

I'm pretty sure that's in US dollars... Otherwise the bankers up on the Peak could shell out for a whole private army of lesser mortals one month and still have change to buy the odd round of chocolate martinis.

(from Kobuta)

Slurpin' Spaghetti

2004-07-20T10:07:00.000+08:00

Managed to survive last-minute schmoozing yesterday evening - through a combination of bad Mandarin and red wine, and amazingly the whole 'Fish-ball' routine was only dragged out just the one time.

One thing that did have me slightly concerned, however, were my table manners, specifically the way I was eating spaghetti as if it were a nice greasy bowl of noodles. You know the style - head down, slurp, slurrp, slurrrrp - and the fact nobody batted an eyelash. This was primo Italian fare - not bloody twenty dollar wantan noodles in Wanchai - but it appears my table manners, at least as far as Western food is concerned, have all but deserted me. My mother would be disgusted.

When did it become acceptable to lower my mouth to a steaming plate of pasta and shovel away? Not once, but twice I found myself nearly spitting out bones onto the pristine white tablecloth, all under and watchful and slightly disapproving eye of the Maitre D' - or whatever it is in Italian. When, oh when did I lose my ability to eat in good company?

Realising my error, I quickly topped up everyone's wine hoping that in the haze any of my misdemeanours might be quickly forgotten. But then I began to notice that my guests didn't look quite at home with the old knife and fork either. One was attempting a rather complicated manoeuvre, threading the blade of the knife through the fork's prongs to saw away at a Caesar Salad underneath, elbows all over the shop, whilst another had cut up his steak into more managable chunks before switching to just his fork.

Whilst admittedly it has been a while since I had much Western food, I would have thought that the rest of my life's gastronomical experience would have imprinted my Western table etiquette on my mind - after all, I only learnt to ate with chopsticks a couple of years ago...

You hear everyone say that living abroad broadens your horizons.. but no-one tells you you'll forget how to do even the most simplest things when it's actually time to return home...

Crash 'n' Burn

2004-07-19T18:40:00.000+08:00

Disaster hits. Just getting my things together and preparing myself for the stealth exit from the office - head down, stop for no-one - when am 'asked' if I would be able to 'entertain' this evening. Normally not a problem, a good excuse for some top shelf grub, but right now, it's pushing 7pm and I just want to chill my boots back at the ranch.

Instead I have an extended game of charades and a healthy dose of communication failure to keep me on my toes...

Lunchtime

2004-07-19T15:25:00.000+08:00

An all-round strange lunchtime. In the space of a few hours, I have discussed Buddhism with an Oxford professor, spoken to an Indian psychic, been part of the first pilot test of a new Chinese learning CD-ROM and been semi-offered a job in Shanghai. (Semi-offered, of course, since no-one here actually spells things out for you). Managed to get a good feed out of it too, which is a bonus.

The fact that everyone was speaking Shanghainese made conversation, erm, slightly challenging, but the standard staples of football and beer have a wonderful universality in vocabulary - that is once you work out the Chinese transliteration of the English names. Took me ages to work out who this Be Ke Han Mu was, and why he was so bad at football.....

Strange how things work out - I told my bosses that I was leaving HK, and ever since then they've been doing everything in their power to try and set me up with a cushy number up in Beijing... I guess I must have done something right since I got here then. It's been interesting to see how ferociously well-connected they are - and I've acquired more business cards in the last few weeks since I decided I was leaving HK than in the last year that I've been here. Managed to commit the ultimate faux-pas by running out of business cards to dish out myself, but wriggled out of potentially face-losing situation by improvising with a menu card, the classy guy that I am.

The writing of my name in Chinese successfully changed the subject, although most of it centred around the fact that my name looked remarkably like a girl's name, and that it reminded them all of a famous Chinese person who was 'disposed of' when it was made public that he was homosexual. Miming that last bit took a fair bit of imagination, I can tell you.

Why no-one told me about the connotations of my adopted name when I first arrived here, I have no idea. Thanks guys. The closest Chinese characters to my actual name when pronounced in Mandarin translate as 'Fishball' or something similar - this prompts waves of general hysteria when I'm at that point in a meal where conversation is drying up, and inevitably ends in one or more guest ordering said dish to illustrate the point even further. This, of course, brings the same joke to a whole new level of humour.

Anyhow, there's a whisper that I may be able to get a bit of work up in China on the side when I get there, so hopefully see where that leads. Could solve the whole no-income-for-a-year problem that appears to be looming.

Back on top

2004-07-19T09:42:00.000+08:00

No updates yesterday, and probably a good thing as I was having the most comprehensive sense of humour failure. No cause in particular, just pretty knackered after a fairly large weekend, and letting one or two things get out of proportion. Not even that stalwart of comedy, Eddie Murphy, was able to lift me from my nadir last night while watching the groundbreaking Dr Doolittle on Pearl. Something tells me things must have been getting desperate. Still, freshly cooked blueberry pancakes for brekkie for me this morning so I am back on top. Hear me now.

Saturday night was ok lah - not much to report, I fear my bad mood may have come down during the proceedings, spurred on by Vodka Red Bulls and the same, the bloody same soundtrack from Stormies as every other time I've been there. Guys I was out with weren't keen to move on anywhere, but I was too knackered, hung over from the night before, my chat was appalling, and Green Day for the 5th time was getting a bit too much.

Whilst it's a top night most of the time, the whole Lang Kwai Fong lark is starting to get me down a bit - same pubs, same people, same drinks, same choons - and since I only have a few weeks left here in HK I don't really want to remember it for one long succession of identical nights Groundhog-day stylee. But i guess I wouldn't be the first expat to complain about that...

Decisions, decisions

2004-07-17T17:37:00.000+08:00

Right.

Task: Buy a laptop.
Reason: 1) Because I really need one.
2) Because I think it would be well cool to have one.
Knowledge on topic: Minimal

Am pretty impressed with those Sony ones, am loving that new black one with all the gizmos and cool shit attached to it (VAIO S), but am thinking that maybe the shape and size of the screen might just send me a little craaazzeeee. Thinking about that other one which is slightly bigger, and I particularly like the snappy Model name those guys at Sony thought up for it: the PCG-Z1XGP.

So, went in to Fortress, and to my surprise the assistant was actually fairly helpful - this is a clear first from Fortress for me. I'm more used to the vacant glares normally directed my way after the obligatory 'Hallo!' is tossed in my general direction, after which they return to picking their noses or playing games on their mobile phone dangling round their necks.

Anyhow, stood there like a lemon (haven't heard that expression for a while) for about 20 minutes being painfully indecisive and successfully managed to talk myself out of buying one, for no real reason really.

Still can't make up my mind which one I want. Indecision is eating away at me slowly. Sad.

What's Fenwick's then?

2004-07-17T13:45:00.000+08:00

Currently on the look-out for a sponsor for next season's rugby, and there's been a series of emails going round discussing possible venues we might want to approach with regards to them giving us some wonga for the next season. I sent round a rather tongue-in-cheek email deliberating whether Neptunes II or Fenwick's would be the better option*.

Someone, clearly blinded by the searing wit, responded:

"What is Fenwick's similar to the Globe? If so, go with it."

Hmmm, group decision maybe...

* for those unfamiliar with the seedier side of HK's nightlife, these venues are large underground clubs in Wanchai, with a faithful clientele of Philippino hookers - often a worthwhile selection if you fancy some comedy dancing or a little ego boost. Until you're asked to buy 3 Tequila 'rock and rolls' for Gladys and her friends Boy and Dana.

All fart and no poo

2004-07-17T13:03:00.000+08:00

Well, that was all of a bit of a waste of time really, wasn't it? After looking like it was going to pass us by, at the last minute, Kompasu came and slammed into Hong Kong anyway - but from what I saw of it, 'slammed' isn't quite the way I would describe it. Rather "all fart and no poo", if you will.

Like Chris, I don't quite know what comes over people in the city when faced with something out of the ordinary. My pulling up the weather map on the computer yesterday prompted endless choruses of 'Waaah!' and countless instant messaging conversations to other colleagues about when they can go home. Work was a complete waste of time as people spent the morning listening to the radio (and this is in my *silent* office, as well) and wishing the storm to hit - and before I knew it, all had regressed to giggling schoolgirls. I couldn't get enough of it though - being an HK typhoon virgin, I'd heard all the stories, and was secretly looking forward to seeing Mother Nature open a large can of whoop ass. Alas, nay, nay flapples.

So anyway, when the announcement finally did come, one glance out the window saw ridiculous queues for the bus, as a quasi-riot had developed in 7-Eleven. Mobile phone networks jammed as everyone attempted to call everyone they knew to wind them up further. In the office, however, silence was restored as people pretended to be going about their work as usual - but in reality just waiting for someone to walk out the door so they themselves wouldn't lose face being the first person to leave work early. Ho hum.

Inevitably it was me who started the stampede, negotiating a seat on the choked buses and finally getting home on the gridlocked roads. What a complete fiasco. Everyone simultaneously lost the ability to be calm and felt compelled to join the endless queues at Park and Shop to buy enough supplies to last through a particularly severe nuclear winter.

I was dismayed to see Chicken on the Run had closed - no Phad Thai noodles for you, Sir - and stocked the fridge with an obscene amount of alcohol. I was ready for the long haul.

However, half an hour later, I was already bored, and heard rumours of free drinks up for grabs downtown - so grabbing my trusty cagoule, and with camera in hand to witness the wanton destruction, embarked on what was to become a monstruous mid-afternoon drinking session. Unplanned, naturally, but they're always the best ones...

On the way down the hill, the escalator was choc-a-block going up with locals loaded down with vegetables, rice and water, whilst the only few walking down were ex-pats anxious to begin the drinking, oblivious to any weather warning. Sad but true.

They say in times of crises you all pull together - and indeed we did, I myself made many a typhoon-buddy as we waited for the winds, drinks in hand. And we waited. And we waited some more. And then we completely forgot about the typhoon entirely, as 5 o'clock rolled by - feeling more like about midnight. They were even playing Bon Jovi's - "It's my Life" - a surefire indication that it was approaching one in the morning, and Dusk til Dawn was beckoning.

But then we realised it wasn't even six o'clock yet.

So the biggest disaster to hit last night for me, at any rate, was the fact that they turned off the escalator. As if walking home by that point was going to be easy anyway.

Anyone for Việt ?

2004-07-16T10:57:00.000+08:00

Well, being the languages geek that I am, and from the looks of it having a rather large amount of time on my hands over the next couple of days, I'm trying to learn a few bits of Vietnamese for when I go to 'Nam in a couple of weeks time.

But bugger me, if this isn't the most ridiculously complicated language I've ever seen.

With six tones, 26 diphthongs, 18 triphthongs, about 30 personal pronouns, consonants that are pronounced differently according to what part of the country you're in, this is one crazy, crazy language. It maybe written using the Romanic alphabet - but with so many tone markers, accents, and other weird add-on bits it looks even more complicated than the scripts used in Thailand or Camodia...

Still, I can't now complain I haven't got time... Signal Eight's up, I'm off for free jelly shots at Stormies...

Waiting

2004-07-16T09:44:00.000+08:00

Well, looking at its projected path, it appears Kompasu may give us a bit of a close shave in the next 24 hours. We're probably going to be missing the full brunt of it, but if the gossip tree in the office is to be believed, then sometime this afternoon, the number 8 will be hoisted, meaning Friday bevvies may be a bit of a washout. Random Typhoon info here.

Bloody typical - storm hits on Friday afternoon, you can do bugger all over the weekend, and by Monday morning, it's all OK again. Checking the last forecast:

THE GOVERNMENT ADVISES MEMBERS OF THE PUBLIC WITH LONG ORDIFFICULT HOME JOURNEYS OR HAVING TO RETURN TO OUTLYINGISLANDS TO BEGIN THEIR JOURNEYS NOW.

Does all the way down Hennessey Road count as a "difficult home journey"? I have to make it up the hill as well...

Bar Chick

2004-07-15T13:21:00.000+08:00

Last night, post-football, we headed out for a cheeky one, I just happened to bring my camera with me:

Bar Chick

Yes, all very impressive love, but I bet she pulls a shit pint.

Footie local stylee

2004-07-15T12:43:00.000+08:00

So anyway, last night saw my return to more sweat-tastic football, the only sport that ensures you don't pee for the ensuing 24 hours. Our normal troupe of Brazilians had gone AWOL so challenged the bunch of Real Madrid shirt-wearing local guys to a play-off.

This was after negotiating a plethora of local rules through sign language and rather fast Cantonese:

1. The ball can touch the sides ONCE, but twice and it's a throw in. Or sometimes a free kick, always depending on which side states their case the clearest/loudest.
2. Anything vaguely resembling physical play is immediately classed a foul, whereupon the offending team must pass the ball to their opponents, who, in the spirit of the game, gently pass it back, before the game continues.
3. It is preferable for all team members to chase the ball, all at the same time, for the desired 'primary school football' effect to be realised.
4. Passing the ball and making space is frowned upon.
5. Fearsomely accurate shots must be unleashed from at least the distance of the halfway line, so as to cause maximum embarassment to the goalkeeper.

Anyhow, after an hour of so of this, a group of Cockneys pitched up and demanded a game, showing scant respect for the delicate local rules, and proceeded to launch the football waaay over the fence and onto the streets below.

"Oh. Sorry boys. Can one of the lads get it? We'll carry on playing." a rather unpleasant guy asked, decked out in an Ipswitch town jersey, while gesturing at the younger local boys who'd turned up to watch a veritable fest of football and perspiration.

His attitude was actually really shocking - something of a combination of a hangover from the colonial era, and a self-important middle-management type, who thinks such jobs as going to fetch a ball he spooned over the pretty high fence is beneath him.

Indeed, just ask one of the lackeys. The coolies. They must, of course, submit to your high and mighty attitude and carry out your wishes a) because they are young and b) because they are not white.

It was only when pretty much everyone present turned round and told him where to stick it that he made an attempt to find it.

We've all been in that situation where someone above you - in work, age, whatever - treats you like a lackey, ordering you to do this, that etc etc - at work you get paid for putting up with it. But when it's combined with a rather derogatory tone with racist overtones, it seriously fucks me off.

Circle game

2004-07-15T12:19:00.000+08:00

It's not quite Gold Miner , but once you work out what the hell you have to do, this is annoyingly addictive.

I know, it's in Chinese, but once the thing's loaded, enter your name and away you go...

Strange Chinese circle game thing.

Hint: use the arrow keys.

Anyone beat 89?

Kompasu Kominatcha

2004-07-15T09:33:00.000+08:00

Well, it's a beautiful day outside, the sun is shining and the birds would be singing if I wasn't in the middle of a double-glazed, air-conditioned office. Junks bobbing around happily in the fetid waters of our harbour, and Black Kites circling overhead - a lovely summer's day.

Well, not for much longer if Typhoon Kompasu has anything to do with it.

A TROPICAL CYCLONE ALERT IS NOW IN EFFECT AND THE STANDBY
SIGNAL, NO. 1 IS IN FORCE.

THIS MEANS THAT A TROPICAL CYCLONE NOW CENTRED WITHIN ABOUT
800 KILOMETRES OF HONG KONG MAY AFFECT US.

AT 9 A.M. THE CENTRE OF TROPICAL STORM KOMPASU WAS
ESTIMATED TO BE ABOUT 510 KILOMETRES EAST-SOUTHEAST OF HONG
KONG (NEAR 20.4 DEGREES NORTH 118.7 DEGREES EAST) AND IS
FORECAST TO MOVE WEST OR WEST-NORTHWEST AT ABOUT 20
KILOMETRES PER HOUR ACROSS THE NORTHERN PART OF THE SOUTH
CHINA SEA.

Looks like it's time to stock up on DVDs and vodka.

Signal One

2004-07-14T23:55:00.000+08:00

Just got back to see Typhoon warning No. 1 is hoisted...

Come on.... come on....

Could really do with a lie in tomorrow.

So that's why...

2004-07-14T16:29:00.000+08:00

Attempting to convert this whole malarkey to a system that I can use without having to negotiate with blocked webpages when I get up to China. Suddenly I'm caught up in a world of techie-speak that I really don't understand, but did manage to salvage the following:

* My web-hosting service doesn't run CGI scripts.
* No mention of Perl either.

Now, I haven't got a clue what either of these things do, but they seem to be pretty crucial if I want to move to a system like Movable Type.

So - presumably I need to upgrade or change web hosting people. I'm currently paying $8.95 a month, I don't know if this is cheap or expensive. Can anyone recommend a good service that gives me all the stuff I need to run more complicated programs than Blogger - and how much that'll cost per month?

Yes yes, I know, I haven't really got much of an idea about all this. Since my rude awakening to the world of IT about 3 weeks ago, it's been non-stop information overload.

Yes, pathetic.

Wanderlust

2004-07-14T14:41:00.000+08:00

Just had a quick convo with a mate who left HK just after the Sevens, and is now in the process of 're-adjusting' to live back in Blighty, yo-yoing between there and Singapore:

"so - here I am, helping to get our Singapore office back on its feet after a couple of staff resigned. After that, its home to the UK for a little domestic bliss, expensive warm beer, football hooligans, 'dynamic' London (wrong wrong wrong, though the cultural stuff is good), and wanderlust."

Got to say, the longer I'm away from 'home', the less I feel like going back. Another mate:

"So when are you coming home? You're missing the best Big Brother ever!"

Okaaay then...

Game On

2004-07-14T10:25:00.000+08:00

However long you've had it, and however many stamps you might have in it, nothing quite beats that spark of excitement as you flick through the pages of your newly returned passport to find that new addition stuck there somewhat conspicuously. Brilliant. Just like freshly sewn-on Cub Scout badge, you can't help giving it a second look.

Perhaps my new Vietnamese visa has me a little over-excited this morning, but whatever, in two weeks' time I'm off to sit on beaches, climb mountains, and eat noodles and fresh bread.

But we all know that the real reason I'm going is just so I can give it the chat after I'm back. "Yeah, back in 'nam...".

Chicks dig it.

Moment Healed

2004-07-13T21:48:00.001+08:00

Rather taken by a friend's T-shirt this afternoon.

You'd better watch out for those dump dogs, man.

One country, two rule books

2004-07-13T16:52:00.000+08:00

Rather surprisingly, I just got a reply from the British Consulate concerning my visa concerns for China. Quite why I asked them in the first place is a good question - but presumed that they might know a fair amount more than my colleagues or other next-to-useless entries on other websites.

This is where the ridiculousness (is that a word?) of the situation hits - I want to get a visa to travel to leave HK, to go to China long-term - crossing in practise an international border - but not actually leaving the country. Now this is all very well, what I would normally do is approach the country's embassy in question. However, how many Chinese embassies do you think there are in Hong Kong... for China?

Given the fact that HK is officially China, but not "officially" - for my situation, at least - I don't really know what to do...

Maybe China Travel will have the answer. Yes, yes - let's see.

On a brief side note, it reminds me of when I was up in China in May, having just spent the last of my RMB buying flowers, of all things. Fine - I'll get some wonga out the wall. But nay, nay. They don't accept my card. Wandered around about 5 banks getting progressively more pissed off as time passed, until I almost grabbed some geezer by the throat in China Agricultural Bank.

By now I was livid - out of cash, and starting to hate the big bunch of carnations I was carting round. To top it all off, I had begun to sweat profusely, since air conditioning had probably been censored or something that day.

Since this bank advertised the fact their ATM machines were 24/7 - in ENGLISH - I figured I might be onto a winner.

So in my pidgin Mandarin I asked if I could use my HK bank card.

"No, sorry Sir" the man with a frighteningly large firearm replied, looking rather embarassed, "we only accept Chinese cards."
About to explode, I bit my tongue... but then carried on anyway:
"But I thought Hong Kong was part of China?"

He grew even more embarassed, so I made some excuse which probably didn't make sense anyway, and left the gawking customers to their daily business.

A cheap shot, I know. But I was pissed off. I still didn't get any bloody money.

Finally!

2004-07-13T10:04:00.000+08:00

And just as I was starting to lose hope, I heard back from Beijing.

We are pleased to inform you that, having examined your application materials, we have decided to enroll you to study at: (in a red, off centre, slightly smudged stamp) the College of Intensive Chinese Language as a Language Student: from September 16th, 2004.

Apparently I now need to submit 12 photos with my visa application - TWELVE! What the hell are they going to do with twelve photos? Eat them?

There's a ferocious amount of small print which I'll have to work through this morning. If I need to get a student visa, do I really have to go back to London for it? Is it possible to get it sorted out here in HK? For 6-month work visas it's been no problem just to give me passport to a travel agent, and they sort it out - I'm hoping it won't be too much more of an issue. I am heading back to UK at the end of August, but only for about 10 days or so, so I don't have much time to be fannying around at the Chinese embassy. Sounds like a rather officious looking nightmare.

But anyhow, I guess that means I'm good to go. 2 months to go until I start my course. Bring it on.

China steps up censorship

2004-07-13T09:39:00.000+08:00

According to this article that I found this morning, China has begun censoring billions of mobile text messages, so that one-party rule is not undermined.

"The campaign, announced Friday by the Xinhua official news agency, comes after text messages sent between China's nearly 300 million mobile phone users helped expose the national cover-up of the SARS epidemic last year and generated popular outrage about corruption and abuse cases that had received little attention in the state-controlled media."

It's somewhat ambitious, maybe, that China can attempt to keep such a close eye on everything that goes on within its huge borders. With mass communications media within the grasp of so many these days, you have to think that China is fighting a losing battle - but of course, there's no way they're going to admit that.

"Last year, Chinese people sent more than 220bn text messages, more than half of all messages sent in the world, according to the Xinhua news agency."

They've godda lodda work to do...

I was moaning just the other day about the fact that I won't be able to access this blog when I get up to China - now it looks like all of my personal communications are going to be given the once over by the commies.

Question is, where will it end? Does China really have the manpower and dedication to vet all messages - SMS, email, internet, etc etc - that are sent and received in the whole country? Is there ever likely to be any kind of freer speech/press in the near future? Why are the Chinese quite so paranoid about this?

Browsings

2004-07-12T22:03:00.000+08:00

Short of inspiration, so set about reading a few other random blogs. Sweet jaysus, there are a shitload of people who have these things. And a good number have some really, really bizarre things to say. Accidently stumbled across some hardcore Mormon ones. Then some Brazilian buddhist ones. For a quick pick-me-up I was inexplicably diverted onto the living with a fatal illness section before retiring to reading angst-ridden 'I'm so misunderstood posts' of teenagers in the mid-West. Lots of talk about proms and prom queens too - felt like a real-life version of Saved by the Bell. Speaking of which, which character are you? ). Excellent. Apparently:

Which "Saved By The Bell" Character Are You?

These online quizzes just get better, and better.

I've been somewhat slow on the uptake in scouring out other HK offerings, but I did enjoy the stats presented by Sweet Chariots demonstrating how far our national football team has to go. Quite what Spain - the serial chokers - is doing in at number three is beyond me. And as for the Yanks ranked above us... almost as embarassing as the day we were beaten by Australia. Oh dearie me.

Looking again, it seems I was well beaten with the whole Romanian pimps thingy too. Ah well. Moving on...

Wow

2004-07-12T18:21:00.000+08:00

Just had the most productive afternoon I've had for months. It's incredible just what you can achieve when you don't spend hours writing senseless posts and wasting time trying to become something bordering on amusing.

I think that's me done for the week then.

Break and burn!!

2004-07-12T12:40:00.000+08:00

Bugger, Simon beat me to it. Getting really pissed off seeing advert after advert for slimming/fat-burning products that are made out to be the Holy Grail for weight-loss and the key to a healthy life-style for Hong Kong's by-and-large sedentary office-bound population. Whilst sipping full-fat coke and munching on the day before's pizza whilst vegetating on the sofa watching a bad film last night, there was a non-stop bombardment of ads, spreading the mantra that you can basically do bugger all, eat as much as you like, and of you take these pills/drink this drink, then the fat just falls off you!

I don't believe Hong Kong, as a whole, has a weight problem. It's a fairly uncommon sight to see portly locals here, and whilst the culture of escalators and taxis may not make them fitter, I daresay HK'ers are healthier, by and large, than our Western counterparts.

So why the constant assault on the insecurities of the whole population? Why are you portraying perfectly healthy-looking people to be fat pariahs? Why does close to 90% of the under-55 age range see themselves as so chubby?

The stick-thin girls I work with all complain about being too fat, and are more than keen to point out at every available opportunity the status of my own waistline. Not even my curt scowls and look of disbelief at their comments will disuade them.

This is a preference for skinniness bordering on the obsessive, an ingrained hatred of being overweight that perpetrates deep-seated discrimination towards those of a more portly disposition. In Hong Kong, more than anywhere else in the world where I've lived, there appears something ingrained in the collective psyche that allows the individual to impose their high-and-mighty point of view on others, particularly when it concerns someone's appearance. Speakly with broad swathes of generalisation, of course, but this at times really does hit a nerve.

Pretty Fly...

2004-07-12T10:03:00.000+08:00

I cannot believe this article that Chris found here. You have to be a really, really slack photographer not to notice this huge insect sucking away at the stilton. Reminds me of the time I saw a whole bunch of larvae spewing out the mouth of a large dead fish lying on the ice-tray of the fish counter back in Wiltshire. When I pointed this out to the teenager behind the counter he found it quite hilarious - but didn't actually prompt him to rectify the situation. Considering how much you actually pay for groceries in the UK, you'd expect them to at least adhere to basic hygiene regulations!!

Right, I'm off to the wet market...

Hos Ahoy!

2004-07-11T15:43:00.000+08:00

Fantastic. Don't miss out on ma bitches.

"Pimps in Romania have started putting up official looking road signs to give drivers plenty of warning there are prostitutes ahead.

The idea is that potential customers will not drive past before realising they could have stopped and engaged the services of one of the girls at the roadside."

Full article.

Sore

2004-07-11T15:23:00.000+08:00

Great lazy Sunday afternoon. Papers, bagels and coffee. Marvellous.

Stiff and sore all over after playing first game of rugby in a loooong time. Some kind of special game meant it was 'semi-contact' - but since all involved were big, nay, very big, boys, the idea of 'semi' was silently dropped. Jeez, apparently some of these fellas are professional - there's me running around in the afternoon heat getting smacked all over the shop. Still, what ho, always good to drop the shoulder and have a run around once in a while. Good to get back out playing after getting injured at the end of last season.

Nearly didn't make it though - on the way in the taxi we were shunted up the arse at a ridiculous speed by some fuckwit behind us. Fairly light traffic, and slowed down to a stop to get out. We were all just about to spill out onto the road when a rather pricey motor came out of nowhere and made short work of the entire back end of the taxi. Just paying the taxi dude when - BANG! - a huge smash and that awful sound of twisting, crumpling metal - all three of us in the back thrown forward.

Driver went schitz, and initially wouldn't let us leave! Clambered out of the car, to see the front of the car behind completely buckled. Jeez - if that was going much faster it could have been a totally different story.

Perhaps coming after that we weren't so nervous about playing a bunch of neanderthals on the rugby pitch - although one of us did pull out early, ending the match in a neckbrace - don't think whiplash does any of us much good. Get well soon, son.

Post-match was predictably raucous - heading back to TST to watch NZ nearly get shown up, then downing a swift few before heading home for an early one and to lick my wounds. Neck is killing me today, don't know how much from the whiplash, or how much from rugby, but going to try and take it easy this week. Hmmmmmm.

Clucking fantastic

2004-07-09T18:07:00.000+08:00

Brilliant. Chicken on the Run has a website! (Thanks Mia). It says... pretty much nothing. Agree with Shaky about the meatballs though (awesome) but a little bird told me you can get a full roast dinner delivered to your door (stuffed chicken, cauliflower cheese, roast spuds enough for 2/3 people) for the princely sum of $160-odd dollars. Oh yes, oh yes, to your very door.

I should be getting paid for this. Maybe if more than 3 people visited this site. Hmmmm...

Should you.. shouldn't you..?

2004-07-09T17:59:00.000+08:00

Friend needs to borrow some cash. A not inconsiderable amount. They hoped/really hoped I might be able to help them. Er... is this a no-brainer?

You what?

2004-07-09T17:35:00.000+08:00

Trying to heed Simon's advice to change away from this Blogger system for a number of reasons: firstly, it'll be useless in China as the fucking Commies block it out, secondly people can't leave comments unless they enjoy being referred to as 'Anonymous', and thirdly it's all a bit too Disney-World for me.

So, seeing as everyone raves about this Movable Type lark, I thought I'd take the plunge then upload all this jollity onto another site that Mr Red and his 30,000+ censors won't stop me or anyone else from seeing. (aside: can you imagine a job like that? Sifting through chatrooms and reading interminable blogs such as mine all day, every day? Jeez).

So anyway, I register, download this and that.. and BUGGER ME, I totally lose the thread of what the bastards are going on about. It's set out in such a nice way that it's laughing at me for not having a frikkin clue what they're talking about when they're asking me to enter this into this, find something called Perl, get the location for this bla bla bla. I guess the technophobe in me still lives on...

Could really do with someone who knows exactly what they're doing to sort me out - sadly the guys I do know who could help me all work with me, and I don't really want them to find out I've been talking about them and their behaivour to untold amounts of people... Surely it can't be that difficult, can it? Did I download the Advanced and really fucking complicated Version 2.0 instead? What did I do wrong??

So Simon, I did try, really Sir, I did. I even tried to download that other thing you posted (NoteTab or something) but that didn't work either. I hang my head in shame.

...but that's old news...

2004-07-09T09:44:00.000+08:00

I don't know whether it's just me, but the longer I stay away from home, the scarcer becomes the communication between me and friends back home. At the beginning, it's all pretty sweet, loads of well-wishing emails, the kind of 'hey how's it going over there, how are you coping with the [insert cultural stereotype]?' Great to receive, you can reply in your own time, safe in the knowledge that you'll look like the man because of all the exciting new stories you can tell them - chiefly revolving around what the bastards tried to make you eat last night.

But, people get busy, priorities change, and you're lucky if you get an email a week from guys back home - even the ones from the girl you almost-got-together-with-but-didn't start to dry up, and before you know it, you're left with the dreaded mantra of No New Messages.

Net result: a whole lot of crazy shit goes down at home and you are out of the loop. I just got a long email from a friend back home, who I haven't heard from in aaaaages, in which she continued to drop bombshell after bombshell after bombshell, followed by the fantastic caveat: "Oh, but that's old news now, which I'm sure you're well aware of."

There's been an almighty break-up back home. Shock. Another mate has decided to buy himself a double-decker red bus and drive it from Cairo to Cape Town next month. Naturally. This is the important shit, the stuff that matters! I don't need to know that a) the tube is still shit b) it's raining c) office is boring d) went to Walkabout on Saturday etc etc, but I do need to know, nay, have a right to know about the important stuff: who pulled a whale, who's doing what with who and how, plus all photos that are taken on a night on the razz.

Is this it? Am I out of the loop forever? Will no-one give me the real beef? Am I destined to a diet of dry MSN conversations at 9am, or a drunken phone call once a month?

Woncha pass the chicken feet?

2004-07-08T17:57:00.000+08:00

Don't get me wrong, I'm a big fan of Chinese food. Being the only Westerner in the place where I work, I've had a fair bit of exposure to even the most grisly of Chinese food, where innards often feature rather heavily - and by and large am pretty happy with what ends up on my plate/dish/bowl, or more often, down my front. However, I really cannot stand the rubber-band like jellyfish, and every time I see chicken feet, I want to hurl.

Now I'm also well into Dim Sum, spending a long lazy lunch picking at bite-sized steamed things in tasty sauces - so when it was announced that we'd be going to Yum Cha to welcome the wonderfully named Apple to Hong Kong, I was made up. Time to crank out the Hagau, char siu bau, siu mai etc etc, and probably end up with one of those weird but pretty tasty sago pudding things.

Had to make my excuses and hit the loo, and on coming back, I found everyone had ordered: "Don't worry, we've ordered for you". Fine. They know what I like, and I like most things. There's always the by-now hilarious conversation when the chicken feet (as my colleagues, for some incomprehensible reason, can't get enough of them) arrive as to whether I'd like to eat them first, ho ho, very funny, no, please you go first, ha ha ha. I've now given up trying them as I know whichever sauce they're in, or the way they're cooked, they're still bloody chicken feet.

So anyway, when the baskets start to arrive, I've already single-handedly eaten most of the peanuts and strange dried peas on the table, and am looking forward to the impending feast. So lo and behold, what should arrive first, but the dreaded feet. Cue hilarious conversations. Good job, fun had by all.

So I wait some more. Some of my favourite prawn things come out, but before they get to me, are snapped up by the greedy bastards on the other side of the table. That;s ok, I'll wait. The baskets continue to come, but I notice a worrying trend - either the restaurant is clean out of 'real' food, the type with meat on the bones, or someone's clearly forgotten that the gweilo doesn't really tuck into fish stomach the way he would do a nice piece of chicken, or noodles, or beef, or whatever.

So what followed was the most frustrating yum cha session in my life where the total disaster dishes were deposited my side of the Lazy Susan, and in my attempts to turn the table round so I could reach my favourites the other side, the guys on the way snaffled (great word) all the best bits. I couldn't quite believe it when I was left with the pitiful combination of stomach, jellyfish and the third bowl of fucking chicken feet, before being forced to finish off the remaining peanuts and rank peas.

Out of anything they could have ordered, I mean anything, they overdose on all the things I find the most repulsive in the entire Chinese cuisine... I give up...

Shamed

2004-07-08T12:18:00.000+08:00

Have a thumping headache and badly dehydrated from playing 5-a-side last night with a bunch of Brazilians. Now some of these guys are seriously good and my silky skills have been continually put to shame over the last few weeks. They don't seem to be too keen on the 'friendly kick on the ankles if they get past you' routine that I perfected back in the UK. Fair enough.

Thankfully though, nobody can out-do my ability to perspire in the Hong Kong evening heat, my little piece of victory for the day. This is hard-core water-loss and an instant hangover...beware...

Tickets

2004-07-08T09:26:00.000+08:00

Pretty busy just recently, but have a spare minute now so I'll update. First major assault on my wallet took place yesterday afternoon but am now happily in possession of tickets to Vietnam for a coupla weeks in the summer. Nice. Thing I don't get though, is why flying to Vietnam - in comparison to Bangkok/KL/other SE Asian cities - is pretty spenny: then there's tedious things like taxes and fuel surcharges (ridiculous) plus $350 for the bloody visa. So it all adds up. But whatever. Flying into Hanoi, then have 2 weeks to get down to Ho Chi Minh.

Never been there before so don't really know what the highlights are, or how much I can realistically see whilst I'm there. Quite fancy a cheeky bit of beach, bit of walking, and a fair bit of cruising round markets eating Vietnamese nosh - just about anything really. I heard Nha Trang is worth a stop, and something about Hue? Bring on the Pho.

Censored...

2004-07-07T12:25:00.000+08:00

After rooting around a little, thanks to Peking Duck plus some others, it looks like when I get up to Beijing, I'm not going to be able to access this site, which quite frankly, is really fucking annoying. That means I have to find some way to get around it.

Are all blogs banned in China? Can I move this site to another location which won't be blocked? And how da fuck do I do that?

Just one more game then...

2004-07-07T10:50:00.000+08:00

Clearly not one for the girls. Park the Caravan game. I'm pretty shocking at it myself. 1:13...

(From Milk & Cookies.)

Fair bit of work to do

2004-07-07T10:41:00.000+08:00

So their football boys can bring about a shock or two, but you've got to be shitting me if you reckon this will be finished on time. Athens Olympic Stadium.

"Athens Olympic officials believe it will be ready by the opening ceremony on 13 August but it seems that there is still a fair bit of work going on around the stadium."

I should say so, buddy.

Uh, thanks

2004-07-07T10:20:00.000+08:00

Ego-boosting this morning. Short conversation earlier, re: me.

"No, it's great to have someone like you! No direction, no money!".

Nice.

Players?

2004-07-06T21:43:00.000+08:00

I see the endless debate around 'Guys-in-HK-have-it-made, whilst-we-girls-get-played' routine is raging over at Mia's page.

Perhaps Mr. Right is taking exception to your hogging the middle of the bed, my dear?

Whoops

2004-07-06T20:14:00.000+08:00

What's the protocol for missing the ex-bird's birthday? Ignore it (water under bridge) or cheeky email (making it obvious you forgot)?

Aha!

2004-07-06T19:35:00.000+08:00

And as if by magic.... my first link appeared! A camped-up high five and bag of pear drops for Simon for finding me first. Hot on his heels is Fumier who wins two thumbs up and 4 Park & Shop stickers. Thanking you.

Engrish T-shirt of the Day

2004-07-06T15:19:00.000+08:00

"Let's playing on the Miami beach time!"

(Wanchai, 2pm approx)

Outrageous

2004-07-06T13:55:00.000+08:00

This is outrageous. Email sent at 12.30pm, read at 1.58pm:

"Johnny Wilkinson is in town today for a kicking clinic at King’s Park at 3PM (really work friendly time eh?). ! The union sent something about this ages ago but heard nothing since - until today. The ‘Phoons have 10 VIP passes. See if anyone wants one. I will pick them up in the next hour and anyone can come to my office to pick them up (....) Bummer about the lateness of all this, but there we go."

WTF am I supposed to do with 10 VIP passes with an hour before the event? This complete arsehole has let me know when it's far too late to do anything about!!!

Cashishe

2004-07-06T13:39:00.000+08:00

Having a few worries about the old cashishe sitch - because only now have I actually sat down and actually worked out how much the next few months are going to cost me. Then it dawned on me that come August, I'm not going to have an income. Which screws it all up a bit... Ok, breaking it down:

1) September, I must pay my semester fees in full: US$1400 (~HK$11,000)
2) Need to find somewhere to live, pay first month and deposit: ~HK$3000
3) Furnish the new pad Pornstar Bachelor stylee: ~HK$5000 (?)
4) Need a laptop if there's any chance I can continue to work freelance ~HK$13,000
5) Really want to go to Vietnam in August ~HK$4,700 plus spending money (HK$?? dunno how much Vietnam costs)
6) Need to go to Beijing in August to dump stuff up there/find flat etc etc HK$3000
7) May need to help out the lady with deposit for new flat (HK$dunno)

Then there's rent and living costs in Beijing per month. I know it's much cheaper than HK, but if there's no income, it's still going to make a serious dent on the funds.

Shit. Muchos wonga.

Thing that pisses me off, is that it's only now (with a ridiculous, needless beer-pumped Credit Card bill sitting on my desk) that I actually start thinking about how I'm going to afford it. Lack of foresight, anyone?

Hopefully I can continue to work freelance. Or work part-time in Beijing. Doing something. Anything.

Anyone know anything about living costs in Beijing?

Quickie

2004-07-06T10:31:00.000+08:00

Right, just a quick one as I've got to head off to Mandarin lessons in a minute. Will be interesting to see which teacher I get today, since I seem to get different ones every frikkin day, but strangely none of them come with any kind of lesson preparation. I'd love to try that for some of my one-to-ones that I teach - just pitch up and expect to be entertained, and then get paid for it. Hmmmm.

Anyway, managed to survive the bitch-fest last night, but it's still one of those occasions where you just know a load has been said behind the scenes, and it's clearly influencing the way people are talking to you, or what they're talking about. You try and be as fun and bubbly as possible, but you can taste the awkwardness in the air on some occasions, so that was nice and uncomfortable.

Ah well - I don't actually give a shit...

Did meet a pretty sound guy from New York though, who spent a year in Nanjing, another in Haerbin and is now heading to Yunnan to study there for a while. I think it takes a certain type of person to want to go and study Chinese in China, you share a similar outlook and a wider appreciation for the bigger picture. Kind of gets me excited about going to Beijing.

Had an interesting chat about the China - Latin American connection which is something I'd love to find out more about. Apparently there's a huge Chinese Cuban population, Chinese Belizean, and Chinese Peruvian, etc etc. YOu've got to think that with the way these countries will expand in the future, there would be some interesting opportunities based around this. Question is, where do you go about looking into this? There's ain't no www.chinesehispanics.com to help me...

Brilliant

2004-07-05T16:35:00.000+08:00

Another great time-wasting toy. Schumi, beware.

Nifty lil' racing game.

No Reply

2004-07-05T15:23:00.000+08:00

It's been over two weeks since I sent in my application form to the Uni in Beijing where I want to go in September - and have heard sweet FA back from them. Now I'm aware bureacracy for this lark is tedious and will take a while - but I could really do with knowing as soon as fcuking possible. I'm trying to tie up one bit of my life here in HK within the next two months and start the next one - with all the crap that goes with that like:

a) Somewhere to live - finishing my contract here, and finding a new place in Beijing that doesn't come replete with a cockroach factory.

b) Visas - whilst I'm in a rather dubious legal position here, I'm quite keen to have it all sorted when I head up to the mainland in September. This will no doubt require mind-numbing trips to the Chinese embassy in London, and probably some chasing around once in Beijing, in a language I don't really get all that well.

c) Phones - because, let's face it, I can't really imagine life without a mobile. Which is sad.

d) Saying goodbye to my friends and colleagues here, and preparing myself once again for being almost entirely on my own in a city of 10 million people. With winter just round the corner.

If for some reason I can't go up there in a couple of months, then I'm really screwed, as I'll need a job/place to live/etc etc here in HK. Or go back to London. Which I really don't want to do. But right now, I'm pretty much committed to leaving, without actually having anywhere to go to.

And I somehow get the feeling that my problems are only just beginning...

Alterior motive?

2004-07-05T14:13:00.000+08:00

Off to some classy dumpling place (oxymoron, anyone?) in Hung Hom this evening with a rather bitchy chick I know through the girlfriend. Ever since I've been going out with her, her friend has been making life difficult, and as a result we've not been best buddies. So now for some reason I'm off to dinner with her and her family, supposedly because someone she knows was in Beijing at some point studying Mandarin. Could be an interesting evening...

Hellenic Heroes to Hot Dogs

2004-07-05T10:30:00.000+08:00

Ah, nearly got it right. 1-0 against the Portuguese at home, good work - especially since the Oracle, Gary Lineker, didn't even reckon they'd make it past the group stage. Only saw first half repeat this morning before traipsing to the office (late again).

So no more Euro 2004, no more Wimbledon, what more is there in the sporting world to live for now?

This. The International Federation of Competitive Eating, featuring some Japanese dude who just forced down 53 and a half hot dogs in just over 10 minutes. Contest spokesman claims:

"I think he has proven, once again, that he is one of the finest athletes of any sport in the world,"

With ESPN broadcasting this live yesterday, it kind of takes the piss out of the Health department, whose figures now indicate that 31% of American adults are obese. 31%!!

Final Schminal

2004-07-04T21:38:00.000+08:00

Dilemma... do I watch it? Do I really want to stay up until 2.45am before the frikkin thing even starts?

It's the first time back to Delaney's after that Portugal game and Beckham's risible performance. Don't know if I can be arsed to stand and watch two teams, neither of whom really get my juices flowing, as 'twere. Not like Miss Sharapova, no no. Maybe watch the 7am replay on the semi-moronic Soccer Channel? (not that the football's all that bad, just the absolutely fcuked up tripped out shit they put on after the match, like something out of a bad Boy Scouts' pantomime).

My money's on the Greeks. 2-0.

Spread the love

2004-07-04T17:56:00.000+08:00

Ah, so there are plenty more people out there with far more things to say than I have, and far more exciting too, by the looks of it. Rifling through the HTLM small print (still scares my shitless every time I do that) I've even managed to add links to other fantastic people sharing their daily thoughts in HK. Nice. So have a look at these bad boys: Shaky Kaiser - who interestingly enough shares my own hatred of the word 'blog' plus a nice slice of cynicism, Simon, a quasi-sane voice in all this madness, and the seemingly self-deprecating but actually fairly insightful Ordinary Gweilo.

Buffet

2004-07-04T17:25:00.000+08:00

Why is it every time, every frikkin time I wear a white shirt here I always, without fail, lose any chopstick co-ordination and launch a whole plateload of food down my front?

Went to check out the much-raved-about brunch at the Conrad and helped myself to industrial amounts of fresh seafood, sushi, noodles, steaks etc etc. Gluttony rules OK. Fairly decent spread actually - almost usurps the number one spot from Intercontinental (Kowloon side), but it's unlikely to be beaten, given the huge melted chocolate fountain over there.

I'm not sure if it's just me, but I find buffets bring out the very worst in people. It's like those moments when you're waiting at the gate in the airport for your flight to be called, and you're trying - seriously, trying really hard - not to be goaded by the small queue that has formed despite the pleas from the stewardesses in all their hair-pinned glory. You subtley pick up your oversized and overweight hand-luggage and move to another uncomfortable seat even closer to the gate, feigning utter disinterest. Suddenly, two or three groups of other travellers misread your intentions, believing you too were going to join this ever-increasing queue, and speed-walk their way to the back of the line, depositing their duty free on the floor in true victorious style. Not a word is spoken, no eye-contact made, all parties insist they are not at all bothered - but another glance over at the hordes of nervous-looking travellers tells you that this queue must be joined, ASA frikkin P.

You nonchalantly scoop up your bags and saunter over to the back of the queue, precipitating a mad charge, when any dignity is brushed aside - I have to be next in the queue goddammit.

What then follows is the interminable wait of at least 20 minutes, as you feel the sweat patch on your back eating up the remainder of your clean - and one of only two smart - shirts. Then you feel like a total loser as you're informed that you're actually in the Business Class line, your queue (complete with condescending tones) is the other one. The same one that stretches far, far off into the distance, replete with 101 smug grins as all turn to see the bumbling white guy brought down to earth. Nightmare.

Anyhow, buffets, buffets. It's the same 'see it and grab it regardless' mentality, and almost imperceptible quickening of your step to ensure that the guy in the pink Ralph Lauren shirt doesn't beat you to that last grilled lobster. I feel this pressure that I have to eat as much as I can possibly stomach, and preferably at least 2 plates more. It's all about the free shit... an idea I think becomes further ingrained into me the longer I stay in China.

Compare the Pizza Hut buffets you used to go to as kids - eat as much as you like - for someone's 12th birthday. Fantastic. A chance to show the boys who the real man is. Local rules: Salad bar visits are for girls. Only by mutual consensus can pizza crusts be left on the plate as testament to how many slices you have managed. If you empty your stomach to free up more room, this must be declared (the TC rule).

It's sad. And part of me still thinks that over 10 years later, I haven't moved on a bit from the days of me and my friends in Pizza Hut. Oh dear.

Ito Ya

2004-07-03T16:07:00.000+08:00

My first time I'd tried this Japanese cheesecake thingy, and yeah, not bad, not bad at all. Torturous decisions over which one to get in the shop in Wanchai, deliberating over the amusingly named 'Cup of Strawberry Cake' or 'Cake of Pure Egg'. In the end, just went for all of them. Arigato.

Awful

2004-07-03T12:03:00.000+08:00

Feeling nothing short of absolutely shocking after hitting the lash last night for the first time in quite a while. One of those impromptu sessions for a 'quiet Friday drink' inevitably turning into race to drain as much Stella as humanly possible, justification being to 'replace fluids'. Didn't help that bar's A/C was buggered, rendering the first part of the evening a complete sweat-fest.

So after the usual social few, things started to get out of hand as the obligatory Al's Diner jelly vodkas reared their ugly heads, and sadly, the idea of going to get something to eat was vetoed. Didn't even manage a dirty kebab (a real Brit at heart, you see), just a few life-saving fries in a basket.

Before thick haze descends on my memory of the evening, I did manage to banter with some New Best Friends (NBF's) only to find out that they had been to the same Uni in Beijing I'm heading for in September. Apparently Beijing wasn't much to shout about 10 years ago, unless you have a thing for smog and punguent drains, but thought my plan to head there was a good one. Which is nice.

From this point on, things get tricky - yes, I do remember starting a completely unsolicitated conversation with a bunch of people from Shanghai, yes, I'm fairly confident my Mandarin was beer-fluent, so no problems communicating there, then. I even recall inviting them all to Dolce Vita, getting more beers, and dishing out the chat.

But alas I don't remember being self-appointed salsa king and inviting every middle-aged woman I met to shimmy in the streets of LKF with me. I don't remember putting Mick Jagger on repeat on the jukebox, or buying rounds of drinks (for fcuk knows who) after 2am - quite a few from the look of my c/c receipts - I must have really needed those drinks, after all.

I don't remember pretending to be Brazilian. I have no idea when surveying the drunken detritus of my return home last night, why I have a collection of large paper towels littered with Chinese characters. I vaguely remember meeting a Ling Ling, but no idea who the other 3 people are.

But all in all, I didn't do too badly. I've just learnt that my Swiss wing-man spent the evening curled up on a bench in the rain underneath the escalator as he bided his time before work started this morning. Rather happy with my no-Saturday work schedule. Rather keen to have somehow kept my wallet and phone intact.

Enough.

Mind Control Mr Red stylee

2004-07-02T15:54:00.000+08:00

So yesterday saw the second July 1st mass demonstration in Hong Kong, after last year's effort that quite rightly scared the shit out of Beijing. Most papers have dedicated many column inches into dissecting whether the police estimates are reliable, or if the organisers' figure of 500,000 is closer to the truth - but the starkest contrast, in my opinion, is the front of the China Daily, our own little slice of English speaking Chinese propaganda here in Hong Kong.

Whilst other world dailies went with impressively large pictures of the many thousands who braved the July heatwave to trawl through the choked streets of Wanchai and Central, China Daily plumped for a suitably kitsch picture of sweet lil' children waving the HK flag in one hand, the Chinese in the other. Other pictures show the aerial fly-by of helicopters displaying two huge flags over Victoria Harbour. Erm... labouring a rather obvious point, maybe?

What was highly conspicuous in its absence was the way CD brushed aside any pictorial mention of the marchers, attempting to sweep it under the already-burgeoning carpet in a haze of Chinese nationalism. The Herald Tribune even went with the story, despite Uncle Saddam stealing most of last night's CNN Breaking News.

Comparing the SCMP and CD, you'd struggle to believe that they were both describing the same day. Ok, so both admitted to the high temperatures and humidity, but that was as far as the paralells went.

I myself, in a rather impressive display of ineptness, missed the whole event altogether, getting down to Central about 1pm - didn't see nada except for a rather bored looking couple of ging-chaats on their motorbikes eating fishballs. Took the ferry to TST and spent the afternoon in the HK History museum, and got back to the Island around half an hour after it all finished. Good work my son.

I wanted to see how the museum was presenting the terms of the handover, Basic Law etc, and it was clear enough - forget your "One country, two systems" bullshit - Tung Chee Wa was stressing the whole "Hong Kong ruled by Hong Kong people".

Erm... so then what happened?

Since Beijing didn't actually send anyone to the ceremony yesterday, that hardly bodes well for this new phase of 'progressive dialogue and co-operation', does it?

It's like toally ignoring your girlfriend's birthday - a plan that is only ever going to go down like a shit sandwich which ever side you're on...

Salad

2004-07-02T14:18:00.000+08:00

On my almost-daily jaunt into Pacific Coffee to sample perhaps the most important development in coffee-house culture - the Banana Latte Chillino, with whipped cream - I was assaulted with a pretty frightening full-frontal. Albeit tucked away in the far corner nestled amongst the crimson cheap-lux armchairs was a woman with unfeasibly large lips, destroying a salad of some description.

No Caesar dressing, I might add. Perhaps this was one of those futile weight-reduction schemes usually espoused by persons of a 'larger than normal stature' who insist on a (supersized) Diet Coke with their Big Mac meal.

HK Chinglish (1)

2004-07-02T11:36:00.001+08:00

Ego-boost for the day:

You are a GRAMMAR GOD!

So that's settled then. See how much you butcher the English language here.

Was going to give this to some of my colleagues but then realised they'd probably argue with me for spelling grammar with an 'ar' rather than the ubiquitous 'grammer'.

Gotta love HK English - why, oh why, oh why must things be complicated so much? Is this some ludicruous attempt to artificially inflate your English ego? Why is it schoolkids here are not taught to say "I have 3 brothers and sisters", but rather: "I have three siblings".

Siblings? WTF is that all about? Or there's the "Do not allow your dog to deposit its faeces in public. Offenders will be prosecuted" signs where I live. Still haven't worked out whether it is the owner who is committing the offence, or the dog itself. It's the dog that's doing the depositing, surely?

Nearly as good as the notice I saw the other day near the office that warned "No ambulation".

I would go on to talk about the ATM that warns "Beware of People" but then we'd be getting into Engrish territory. Check it.