But who needs to use the dustbins when there’s an army of beach - and barbecue site cleaners, picking up every little shred it is your right to discard?
Monthly Archive for July, 2009
Whoops, did I say that? Naw, it was just my first reaction to today’s big front page news about China and US signing “pact to reverse climate change.” Wah, incredible! And so great! I initially thought. Now we can soon breathe easily again!
Reading the article though, was a bit of a downer: The pact merely “highlighted the importance of climate change in [their] bilateral relationship by creating a platform for climate policy, dialogue and co-operation. ” What does that even mean?
Further into the paper was a much more interesting sniplet: People have been questioning the actual birthplace of Messiah Obama. Wasn’t he actually born in Kenya, not Hawaii?
NO! Was the answer from put-upon White House spokesman Robert Gibbs, who went on to explain that “The president was born in Honolulu, Hawaii, the 50th state of the greatest country on the face of the earth. ”
Presumably … the US? The greatest country on the face of … what? Could we have some proof, please?
Ever since Killer Porkie Plague hit town, crossing the border between Hong Kong and China has been almost as big a hassle as when foreigners and mainlanders had to go through the same passport check, which could take up to 1 1/2 hours.
When the plague was tearing through Hong Kong at optimum speed, striking down several people per month with coughing, a light fever and I know not what other terrible afflictions, travellers between Hong Kong and southern Chinese metropolis Shenzhen were subject to up to five checks, including the filling in of three “lying forms” (lying in written form about your address, phone numbers and destination. And name.) and two temperature checks. Naturally, only foreigners had our temperature checked going into China, that goes without saying.
All this took up valuable drinking and foot massage time in Shenzhen.
But now? I’m happy to report that human nature if not common sense, has taken over. You can fill in the forms (now down to two) with three squiggles, none of which legible. The bored form-collectors don’t even glance at them. My friend even got through by thrusting a completely empty form into the hand of the hapless little uniformed squirt with a mask, but then my friend is very imposing and can outrun any little squirt any time.
And the temperature check? I think they use one of those laser pens they use for pointing at stuff in meetings.
Yes, irritation factor and slowing down time are now down to minimum. Unlike Hong Kong, which is of course on a hyper-vigilant ultra alert against all diseases and other dangers at all times, the mainland has sunk comfortably back in its favoured state of ignoring a problem (real or perceived) while appearing to do something about it by wasting a lot of paper. What a relief!
Yesterday I visited Sportful Garden restaurant in Causeway Bay again. After a struggle, I have finally made them not make me pay for snacks I haven’t ordered and don’t eat. They put them out hopefully each time though, along with the jasmine tea although I’ve ordered soi sin - all foreigners must drink jasmine. It’s the law!
But now we all just laugh when I make them change the tea and deduct the extra 10 dollars from the bill, so I like Sportful now; not least for its name. And when it comes to your personal safety, well, you just can’t beat them:
Careful, slippery floor, the sign says in Chinese. But where is the safety in that, you’ll be more than justified in asking?
When a landslide starts thundering through the room, slippery floors will be the last thing on anybody’s mind I say.
As you walk down the stairs you’ll notice a tiny sign right at the bottom of the staircase, 2 cm above floor level, saying Beware of stairs. Is it for people crawling up the stairs, or for people who have already fallen down the stairs to act as a badly needed dose of written schadenfreude?
Whatever the reason, Sportful Garden has prepared for every eventuality, except that of a foreigner not drinking jasmine. And it has to be said: The food is great! They also don’t throw you out when you pull out a video camera and start filming a guy dressed up as awful gnome Donald Tsang, unlike a lot of other yam cha restaurants I have tried filming in. So ten points to Sportful! It’s full of sport.
Who says we parochials can’t lead an exciting life? This morning first this rainbow happened, and then a scary weather came hurtling in from the south:
Run Piles, run! I said to my dog, we’re going to get soaked! and we sprinted home post-haste. After which the following happened: Nothing. Talk about all talk and no trousers. A bit like our esteemed leader Sir Donald Tsang, really.
Oh, how I love summer! I love heat, absence of snow … Of course, Hong Kong stands out among other world cities in always showing extreme absence of snow; therefore: I love Hong Kong! I went swimming just before last weekend’s typhoon was about to hit, and the water was actually cool. (Swimming in Hong Kong normally is like swimming in warm snot.)
I came out of the water looking like I had just spent three years in the trenches of First World War (including trench foot and trench nose) but it was certainly cooling and revitalising. No, I’ll say that again. I came out looking like I’d just spent a week in a sewer with a brownish green mud-like substance (human shit) running out of my nose and ears for the remainder of the day, but it was certainly … etc.
But I’m swimming again now after a 5 year hiatus - I’ve just learnt to push the flotsam out of the way not worrying too much that the Wellcome bag/plastic bottle/condom might actually be a stinging jellyfish.
So I include the above photo to remind everybody not to complain too much about the heat. Before you know it, the hounds of winter will be howling outside your doors again and then there will be no end of complaints about that.
Me, I love all the seasons of Hong Kong. All, I say! As long as it doesn’t snow. Which it won’t.
Who says you can’t get absolutely everything you need on the mainland? I was lacking a little blood pressure the other day when I saw this sign and: Boink! Two minutes later heart right back up there, galloping away.
The “silly season,” a time where nothing’s happening and newspapers have to resort to “Cat stuck in tree for several minutes” type of news to sell copies, is called “cucumber time” in Norwegian. For obvious reasons (people use cucumbers to beat each other to death instead of the usual lumps of ice.)
Me, I’m just cavorting with animals
What a great cucumber time!
Wei hey people, dudes, bints, everybody everywhere. Here are some photos from Norway. It’s a place called Røros which is a world heritage site.
People live in all these houses which are being done up, paid for by the Nog government, to look like they did 150 years ago while being modernised on the inside. If old Donald went there he would probably come back to Hong Kong raving about how conservation-minded the Norwegians are, and then get together with his pals the property developers later in the afternoon, signing the death warrant for another traditional Hong Kong neighbourhood.
Strangely, when I was there, there were hardly any tourists. My friend said it was because it was “too hot” (ha!) but I think it was because everything closes at 5 o’clock.
People who find it too hot can always come back in January - minus 40 degrees cool enough for ya? Beautiful though. And the conservation thing: It can be done!
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