The Good Life

Update: 29

This has been a fortnight of good fortune all round really. Back in Singapore, our mate Toots arrived home from a jaunt to Australia  which although window-dressed as a business trip, involved gambling. His story goes that he'd inadvertently found himself in a casino while feeling lucky. In such circumstances, it's foolish not to take advantage of the unsuspecting tables. Fortunately he'd been drinking too, so any restraint had been restrained and a sum that might have put a strain on a marriage was placed on a number that comes up once once every thirty seven spins returning a small fortune and a very happy wife.

A flush gambler is a pleasant host and thanks to Mister Seventeen letting his guard down, Tam and I found ourselves eating some of Singapore's finest cuisine and quaffing champagne in probably the smartest place we've been in the last ten months. I cannot emphasise enough what a treat it was to eat at a real wooden table and off clean plates rather than sitting at some shared garden furniture on a pavement next to a hawker's stand contemplating the bowel-responsiveness of each mouthful.

Good luck stayed with us when we arrived in Hong Kong. Our friends Claire and Sean have a beautiful apartment up on The Peak capturing what is arguably the best view in all of Hong Kong. We spent two nights here in a room with a view, so to speak. That they employ a housekeeper who cooks the meanest roast chicken outside of Blighty only added to what was, for us, absolute luxury.

Our Aussie mate, Murray (of I-can-get-tickets-to-Day-Five-of-the-final-Test-at-The-Oval-when-England-reclaimed-the-Ashes fame - cricket followers will know that this is not a regular event) came up with another gem when he phoned to say that, although we were welcome to stay in his apartment, its truly Hong Kong measurements comparable to a large cupboard would make it a bit too intimate for three of us, but not to worry as his friend (who's name I can't reveal) had occupancy of a luxury serviced apartment provided by his company (who's name I can't reveal) and if we promised not to reveal any names (which we did), he (unnamed friend) would sublet it out to us for a bottle of wine.

So on Wednesday afternoon we moved from our exclusive address in Ex-Pat heaven overlooking all of Honkers to a trendy apartment whose most striking feature was a shower behind a glass wall supported by some kind of green lighting.

Things were really looking up when yet another mate Wellsey made his presence in Honkers known. Out for a week on business - god bless bankers with expense accounts. 

Wednesday night started off mildly with an introduction to local culture in the form of a visit to the races. Backpacker Fiscal Policy is pretty specific on gambling. Section 2 part VII of the April 2006 budget states clearly that money is only to be spent for value. And gambling is not value. But if Gordon Brown can bend his Golden Rule, surely I could chuck 20HKD on the seven forty five at Happy Valley. (I love it that it's called "Happy Valley" - I reckon the owners go home happier than the punters most nights...)

Anyway 20 bucks went down on horse number three for a win. Horse number three won.

The problem with Happy Valley is that they sell beer by the jug which meant that an innocent start ended with four of us donning faux-mink coats and drinking vodka in a bar that was cleverly decorated to create an atmosphere of Moscow in January but was actually just a big meat freezer. Come to think of it...

And then came the mobile phone calls to Britain.

Needless to say, Thursday was slow and involved a long dim sum breakfast. That started at eleven.

***

One of the few cultural things we did was visit the world's largest sitting bronze Buddha or something record smashing like that. I should have read the guide book first. As we chugged through the air in a cable car, I mentioned to Tam that it must have been amazing for the first person to discover it all those years ago. I was imagining some nineteenth century explorer trekking through the heavily forested Lantau Island that passed slowly beneath us and then discovering this ancient wonder. Turns out it was made in the late nineteen-nineties. And is exactly that: a large bronze sitting Buddha. We both felt a bit cheated.

Imagine, please, that you were under the impression that you were going to see the Tower of London. You packed your sandwiches, set out in good time, paid over the odds for transport, bought a return ticket, queued, spent twenty minutes in a cable car moving over some trees and then, finally you arrived at Wormwood Scrubs. And then they tried to sell you a photo with your face superimposed over an animated monkey.

You know those Asian tourists we all laugh at in the West? They who get excited when they see a London bus and have their photo taken in front of it on Bond Street - while it's moving, or who pose at the Trevi fountains pretending to throw a coin in (the photographer was too slow the first time and they're not wasting another coin) or who go to the Kruger National Park and pose next to the lions (I'm not making that up), well this big Buddha place was designed and built BY people like that FOR people like that. Everything was fake. Fake "Walk with Buddha" exhibit (a big room with some screens and a rolling video, fake "Chinese theme eating mall" (What the hell? This is China, what do we need a Chinese theme eating mall for?).

I reckon this had been built to develop tourism on one of the outlying islands that no one ever visited. But instead of making beautiful gardens or a nature park or a beach resort they melted down some doorknobs and made the biggest Buddha they could. Then they structured the tickets so that you had no idea what you were buying or why. For example you needed to buy a lunch ticket to climb the Buddha. If you weren't hungry - sorry.

A well marketed draw card was something to do with monkeys and the story of Buddha. Fortunately we didn't fall for it but many unsuspecting gweilos (Caucasians) must have forked out back at the ticket booth only to find - when they're a 20 minute sky-train ride away - that they'd been sold a ticket to see a video narrated by that same animated monkey from the photo scam. What is it with these guys and the monkey?

On the way back, a little disheartened, we shared our car with some locals who explained that the best things for tourists to do in Hong Kong involved shopping and nightlife. With that in mind, we went to find one of those many chic bars with their beautiful clientele and order a cocktail.

I loved Hong Kong - the smog is terrible but, if you can get past the asphyxiation, the buzz is fantastic. It's a well visited place so I'm sure many of you know it already and you may disagree with me, but I found it very much like London. Even now, ten years after The Handover. The suits are dark, whereas in, say, Singapore the look is more linen and no ties. There is obvious money here too. Murray reckons it's because the apartments are so small, people spend it on cars. That makes sense; there's not a vast amount of space. The bars are diverse, buzzing and full of well dressed banker-types. With a few more drunks in gutters and not quite so many gadgets, this could be London. Even the buses look the same.

***

Finally a week of flush hosts, winning at the races, way better than average accommodation and proper food came to an end with us arriving at the airport the day before Chinese New Year when it seemed that all of China was flying with Cathay Pacific.

At check-in, we were asked if we'd mind flying later and for our trouble, we'd be given US$80 each, an upgrade to Business Class for the flight of our choice, entry to the Cathay Business Class Lounge at any airport for the next year and a night in a pretty plush airport hotel, meals on the house...

Yes please we'll have two.

We climbed into the buffet dinner like it was the first time we'd seen food and then smacked breakfast with the same wanton abandon.

It's amazing how luck is relative: the next morning as we were checking in again, we heard the same woman give the same speech to a man who really wanted to be somewhere else. He was not interested in any complementary business class flights or any token cash payments and the the whole check-in desk could hear.

I was quite tempted to offer to do it again, but I need to grow up and accept my responsibilities. We have commitments - like beaches in the Philippines.