Fitness

Selfish post coming up. More of a diary or training entry than anything really.

The long road back to fitness and no-fatness (or at least less fatness) has begun in the last few weeks. I have been exercising semi-regularly, with a few lunch time swims, a few gym sessions and a handful of stout, steep, sweaty walks up The Peak, either relatively fast on my own, or a slower power workout pushing a buggy with one or, even on one occasion, two kids in it! It is pretty steep in parts and pushing almost 50kgs of child and buggy plus dragging my own 88+ kilos of lard ass up a hill in 30+ degree heat and 90+% humidity is pretty tough! However the views are stupendous at times and the great feeling of escaping from Hong Kong's population crush is liberating. Once back on flatter land, with the heartbeat slowed down sufficiently, the endorphins kick in and a great feeling of smug satisfaction greets you. However, no matter than I might feel great, no one else wants to get too close to me to share the joy and love because by the time I have even gone half way, you could wring me out, put me on a line and then a wind tunnel before I might stop sweating and start to dry off! That's a funny thing about exercise, no one really cares that you have done it except yourself. Hearing about other people's workouts nauseates me and often promotes self-loathing.
The lunch time swims are in a 50m pool. And I am finding them tough, not least because I am hungry, tired and its in the midday sun. It does not sound like much to complain about, but believe me, without a coach, some other whippersnapper there that you want to beat, or the dread of performing badly in an upcoming event, it is pretty hard to motivate oneself. However, I think I have a more mature approach to exercise now, as I head towards late-30s - it is hard enough to get out and do your exercise often enough, so one might as well work hard when one does manage to do it, but within the limits of fitness, age and body! After tens of millions of metres in the pool in a lifetime I know my body well enough to know what is too much, but I also know when I am just going though the motions and it is time to give myself a kick up the backside.
I have been reasonably pleased with progress. I am starting to "feel" better in the water, I can go longer distances without seizing up or talking myself out of it. Whilst the distances are short in comparison to the long distance sessions of my teenage hey days, c. 2000m vs6000-8000m behemoths, they feel good and there is room for one or two decent sets, as well as a warm up and cool down. I was pleased two weeks ago to do some 100s turning on 1.50, touching in the 1.30-1.35 bracket. I think I did 6 that day. This week I did 8x100s on 1.40, touching all around 1.25. Today I decided to lay down a 1500m marker and then try and do one every 3-4 weeks and check on progress. Nothing amazing, but a 22.45. That is 1.31s per hundred, quite steady, without too much lactic acid build up. I would like to try and take 30-45 seconds out of that on the next timed swim in a few weeks as hopefully I get fitter stronger and lighter/slimmer!

So, a post-Millennium 1500m long course PB! The first of many I hope.

Here's to keeping it up over the coming weeks, months and years!

The Achilles still are daffied and I have accepted I will never be able to do long distances of running - i.e, more than about 4kms!!! But I can walk and still jump around with my kids and that is what matters, not the narcissistic/mid-life crisis/must challenge myself and recreate my youth that many blokes my age and older are going through.

Long may it continue.

Soul coffee

I am a drug user. I take caffeine on a regular basis. An imperceptible but legal high and something that I take without thinking, quite possibly sub-consciously, as the withdrawal symptoms kick in, or it gets to that time of day when my habit-formed addiction rules over any other rational thought.

Like any drug, I am sure it can be kicked. Cold turkey, cutting down, go decaf instead of full shot of caffeinated fun. Take it away and its only then you notice it is gone and you want it back.

Coffee is my day to day drug, but right now I have major withdrawal symptoms for something else. Another drug that keeps me sane and is an inseparable part of me, is my family. They are gone away from me currently. My beautiful, funny, sexy wife upon who I depend for so much, for conversation, entertainment and companionship, is out of reach, even on the telephone for the last few days. She has been gone physically for two weeks. And I miss her so much. I crave her voice, her face and just to be in reach to touch her, hold her and all the things that can be so easily taken for granted. I need her, I crave her. This is what love feels like, this is longing. Please know my lover how much I feel for you.

I am also seriously crashing on withdrawal too for my boys. For the delight they can show me and their tender smallness which I am charged with looking after for many years to come. For their funny ways, things they say and the wonder of them.

Daddy misses you.

Tree of Strife

What is it with Hong Kong people and the environment. It was with great disappointment that I read the lead front page article, "Tree of Strife" in Tuesday June 15th's The Standard, my disappointment being with the accusatory style of reporting by The Standard. I feel sorry for the unfortunate cyclist and his wife and family, but the barely concealed tenor of the report was to try and blame someone for this accident. Am I not alone in thinking that this was indeed just an accident, and that those seeking someone to blame could better just accept that accidents can happen, so long as people have taken steps to prevent them. However, prevention must draw the line somewhere, and from the report it appears that this tree was inspected less than four weeks previous to the accident. Provided the inspection was not negligently conducted (which is the suggestion of the writer and some of the persons interviewed), what more could be done? Would the solution be to tear down all the trees that dare to present a remote possibility of falling branches anywhere near the densely packed 7 million citizens of our concrete jungle of a city? Shall we concrete over the whole city, put rubber bouncy pavements everywhere and remove any form of danger or mishap from our citizens? Or should we encourage our cycling citizens to wear helmets when riding their bikes, as whether or not the unfortunate victim was wearing one is major fact that is glaringly missing from the report. Given the horrific head injuries suffered by the victim, it does not require a large leap of intuition to come to the conclusion that the severity of this accident could have been mitigated by the unfortunate victim himself, not by tearing all our trees down. Please can we have some sensible and balanced reporting and some acceptance by people that their lives are in their own hands and not there to have every single possible eventuality taken care off by the state? Shit happens, that is life and nature, this should not be front page news for anyone. Grrr!

Perfect Birthday

Sometimes, despite the doubts and fears and the cynicism, things come off brilliantly and you can get a real sense of glee out of something that you were involved in, no matter how little your own contribution was.

My hat goes off to my wife who did a brilliant job of organising a joint beach party for Kai's second birthday. Despite looking like a raggle taggle bunch with bin bags full of plastic beach toys, suitcases full of food, which then doubled as tables, the kids' toys' time out boxes full of beer and ice and ice cream cake on order for delivery to 28 degree heat, the party was brilliant.

It was well attended, the weather was great - not too hot, the food was excellent and in the right amounts, we had enough booze, juices and biscuits and everyone seemed to have a great time. I did not get to speak to anyone for any length of time as I was busy running around serving and topping up champagne, running to a restaurant for a knife to cut the cake, stopping Sean and Hunter from drowning and generally having a good time, slightly buzzed on the champagne! The ice cream cakes arrived, duly intact and very cold and hard and did not even melt all that quickly! As far as I am aware no one drowned! People were fed and watered, the pinata was ripped open to spill out toys and sweets and cookies, the dozens of cheap plastic beach toys were used and taken away (although we do have about 20 rakes in a cupboard now!) and we all were tucked up in bed for a well-deserved nap before 2pm!

I am so proud of Eimhear and her skills in reading this one just right - 2 year olds on the beach need very little entertaining - the sourcing of the toys, food, drink and ice cream cake! She worked really hard and I am so happy it was a success. I never need reminding that I am a lucky man to be married to my wife, but I was reminded on Saturday how brilliant she is. I am still beaming from it. Kai too! Poor Sean can't contain himself for his birthday!

Living in the Now

Sometimes it is very hard to live in the now. I have been trying to do that, because I am prone to being someone who has had a "grass is always greener" complex. No wonder my family and I have moved countries three times in three years. Therefore, I don't profess Buddhist qualities and an ability to defer pleasure, as I can get caught up in the hedonism that exists somewhere near to the bottom of a bottle of wine just like the next weak-willed Irishman, but lately I have found myself looking ahead, both in terms of weeks and years. It is probably inevitable as the three questions as an ex-pat gweillo you get here in Hong Kong are "How long have you been in Hong Kong" (past tense), "How are you enjoying it," (present tense) and "How long do you plan to stay?" You are usually left with that last question hanging in your head after you have given the stock answer and with a lingering sense of justifying your decisions, attempting to rationalise in your own ahead just why you actually came here in the first place, and where you are going. It can be an unsatisfactory state of affairs going on in your head when you are not someone who has the five-year plan mapped out in detail, rather just sketched, rubbed out and put on the long finger.

Anyway, I am not trying to get ahead of myself too much, as there is living in the now to be done, or pleasures to look forward to in the short term. I got the hairdresser question today from an old colleague in Dublin "Any holidays planned"? And my answer?

"Yes, holidays in 5 and a half weeks' time, heading to some little island, kind of an odd place, with lovely people, who can have a laugh despite their problems, who with their newfound success 10 years ago, a bit like when they get the drink in them, lost the run of themselves. A beautiful place, a depressing mood, a bleak future, but a land of smiles and chat and lovely scenery and golf courses. A place of expensive property and unemployment (eh?).

It has a land border with a part of its larger and richer neighbour, which also has a minority coalition government and its own financial woes and 50% top tier tax rate, and over that border mad men walk down streets that don't belong to them, playing flutes, drums and pipes and ridiculous uniforms by day and balaclavas by night.

I will be in the West of that country for a time, passing to its border area for a wedding and on to its northern lands, which some call "God's Own Wee Province". Inevitably it will rain a lot, be 15 degrees cooler than my country of residence and we will get sick of the very people we have come to see!"

When you put it all like that, you wonder why you are looking forward to it?!

Sunny Days

Hong Kong finally seems to have shrugged off its winter/spring cloak of cloud, smog, fog, in-your-face-pollution and remembered to allow the sun through all the way to the ground. It looks better for it, with its harbour glistening and shimmering with a billion sparkles, the Peak outlined against a blue sky and people finally saying "what a nice day", shedding the coats, cardigans and scarves that have still been in evidence despite the mid-high twenties temperatures. I was explaining to a colleague that it never gets as hot in Ireland as it was here yesterday (29 /30 degrees). But then in Ireland we can walk on the grass, play in the mud and our ambulances don't stop at red lights. But then again, Ireland's taxpayers give money to its banks but don't get any deposit book or interest with the donation. And in Ireland many people are disappointed that when they are told that Ireland is the next Greece that it won't be an Irish remake of a John Travolta classic....

Say a prayer....for those in Ireland and those of us here, everyone is trying to get ahead, make some money, but some are sucking in more pollution and staying on the concrete path while others of are kicking a ball in the mud, staring into an abyss and wondering where it all went wrong ("Gimme someone to blame, certainly not myself"), but it gives them something to talk about.....And they can talk.

Observed

825am, Hong Kong. Ambulance in full emergency mode, siren, blue lights, moving quite fast, stops at traffic lights and waits for them to change green. Obviously it would ruin your day if you were the patient and the ambulance crashed, but seriously, anywhere else in the world, ambulances operating in that mode are entitled to and will go tthrough red lights. Suggestion for ambulance drivers in Hong Kong: get a grip on reality and break the odd rule from time to time. Your patients and their relatives may thank you. Otherwise don't bother with the emergency lights and siren.

When is it OK to Spill Champagne?

Only when the following elements are present and alligned:

1. When you are a Mom of two terrible toddlers going through the terrible twos, despite being one and 3.
2. When you made the effort to get all dressed up and went for a nice lunch at a swanky Hong Kong restaurant.
3. When you get there you realise that your are not as glam as you thought you were, in comparison to the immaculate Size 0 Asian girls eating their no dressing salads.
4. You grin and bear it with your fellow Mummy mates, secretly wishing and noting that those skinny b1tches will get pregnant one day and their bodies will go south, their ankles will swell up, their feet will expand and never come back to size, their backs will be broken from carrying heavier boobs and kids around.
5. But you realise, that such maladies probably do not happen to girls like those who will be back in their microskirts in days after giving birth. You wish them cracked nipples and acne.
6. You go home and your kids, while delighted to see you and who tell you that you are beautiful are wild, cranky, noisy and destructive.
7. You decide to try and entertain them with a movie so you can try and have a chat with your friend.
8. The kids finally settle, so you pour yourself and your friend (a fellow Mum) a glass of bubbly.
9. It's just Bubbly wine, not even champagne.
10. Your 22 month old crawls into your lap to watch the movie.
11. You finally feel relaxed after a stressful day of trying to be chic.
12. Your toddler wriggles in your lap and knocks your champagne all over his own head and down your frock.

Only then is it OK to spill champagne and be allowed to laugh and cry as much as you want.

By request.

Madness and the Cup of Tea

None of your broad sheets for me, with clever people giving in-depth analysis of whatever the flavour du jour news item might be. Nor for me the sensationalist tabloids filled with celebrity gossip and real life, tv movie type heartbreak straight from the suburbs. I prefer to get my, ahem, "news" from the free commuter papers thrust at you at your local underground/subway/MTR station. I am attuned to the fact that whomever publishes such paper is in a very powerful position, as the rations of news and the means of its delivery to hundreds of thousands of commuters daily can really shape the public's perception of current events. What you get to read about is controlled. So in reading it, I always try and take it all with a pinch of salt. In a way, I suppose all media is controlled, but at least with time, money and the right tools at our disposal we can seek out alternative views from other sources and places, other countries, other cultures and political persuasions. Heck, you don't even have to go down to your local newststand to do it, you can do it right in front of your nearest computer, iphone, tablet, television or radio.

My commuter paper, The Standard in Hong Kong, is quite a balanced little paper with local news, international headlines, business (mainly Asian), some gossip, mainstream sports, and periodicals on fashion, movies, arts, etc. I kind of like the way that the front page is highjacked virtually daily with advertisements for IPOs, investment funds and, bizarrely, over the last few days, Marks & Spencer's new food shop opening up in Wan Chai.

What has grabbed me in recent weeks has been the number of stories of knife-wielding crazies going on the rampage here in Hong Kong and in mainland China. Granted, this could happen anywhere - Europe, America, Asia, Australia alike - and often, in the US' case, with much more devastating effects, swapping gun for knife. Often the story in The Standard is accompanied by a picture of a bloodstained floor. It grabs you, it is emotive. These knife attacks have happened in nursery schools, appartment blocks, shops, hospitals. It is as if the mental state of many Asians is precariously balanced on, well, a knife edge. "Don't push me, 'cos I am close to the edge, I'm trying not to lose my head," could never be truer, judging by my daily news feed. Perhaps in Hong Kong and mainland China's case it has something to do with living in incredibly close proximity to millions of others. There is no respite from the noise, comings and goings, smells, sounds and just the very presence of your neighbours. Most of us have to grin and bear it and look for the positives in other aspects of living in Asia. But maybe for the less privileged, the heartbroken, the down at heel and downtrodden they cannot find those positives in their perceived miserable existences. If the niggles and hassles get too much, maybe those who are not getting the help, love and support they need just crack. "It's like a jungle out there, I often wonder how I keep from going under."

Society is shocked and outraged at the crimes perpetrated by such people. Yet, society should maybe take a look at itself and around at its neighbours and see if there is anyone who might need a hand, a smile or invited in for a cup of tea. We cannot expect the state to know the mental health of all its inhabitants, but we can certainly try and discern that of our neighbours and try and be a bit more neighbourly. Its just takes some tea leaves, boiling water and a cup or two.

One of the world's great tea drinkers (we are very excited to have you Rheda)  is coming to visit our family for a week. She would surely approve of the remedy for some of society's ills.

If it works, what will The Standard report on now?!

It's all around you

Spotted today: a man on a public bus as it passed the U.S. Consulate in Hong Kong with his hand over his heart. Was he: (a) a patriotic American overcome with compassion for his homeland; (b) having a heart attack or restarting his pace maker; (c) clutching some illicit substance in his breast pocket; (d) just happened to be sitting like that; (e) none of the above?

Life is there, right in front of you, all around you and with some imagination and thought, it is infinitely better than what's available on tv, especially in this country!

Look out for it on a street, a cafe or park near you: life. It's the longest running show on the planet.

No Fun Beach

You know you are in a repressed, strictly controlled, killjoy society when you see signs and hear announcements every few minutes at a reasonably large, not particularly packed public beach on Lamma Island that there is no ballgames, frisbee throwing, kite flying or dogs permitted. So eating and drinking from glass containers is OK, as we witnessed a man having broken glass dug out of his feet by the killjoy attendants who enforce the rules. Presumably casual sex and drug taking are probably OK, unless they are already outlawed under some other law. I am surprised that potentially hazardous or annoying activities like sand castle building and sun-bathing were not banned. Taking of photographs of western children seems to be OK, despite the obvious capacity for illicit activity to result.

So revealed are a few of my pet hates about my newly adopted country and its people and visitors.

I am sure I will write more about same in the coming months.

Notwithstanding the above, Lamma seems like an interesting place and despite my wife's traumatic toilet experience after dinner in a local seafood restaurant, I think we will be back to explore the southern part of the island and the beaches a wee bit further away from the power station!

Grab it by the b*lls

Life has an uncanny ability to sneak up on you and pull you in different directions from the path you thought you were happily heading down. Usually that pull is not without an emotional impact and / or other knock on effects. Sometimes that pull is more than that, life actually jumps up and smacks you right in your face, knocks you down and sends you backwards, with a few kicks to the backside as you go sprawling.

So, what are you going to do? Lie there or learn from it, pick yourself up, dust yourself down and get moving again. But sometimes it also good to lie for a moment, catch your breath, stand up slowly and put your hands on your hips and take it all in. Figure out what happened. Why it happened, how come you didn't see it coming or how come it happened to you. And sometimes you can say "I don't know," "I didn't see that coming" and "it wasn't my fault". That is OK for me.

In the past few weeks I have lost two people in my life who were very close to me. One had not been in our lives for very long, while the other had been in my life for probably 30 years. The former had only entered it and already we had become used to the idea of this new person being around. We hadn't met him or her yet, but we sure as hell were looking forward to meeting them and watching them grow. The other was old and ill, but their separate passing has delivered knock down blows. They both have made me pause for reflection before ploughing ahead down this road called life.

I enjoy a good walk or a good drive. Iain Banks talks about Great Wee Roads for an exhilirating drive. My life has been a great wee road so far and I think it is only getting towards an even better stretch. It's going to be challenging driving, I know I will need to be focussed and aware, relying on my experiences to help me corner and choose the right gear. But the journey for me itself is the pleasure, not just a means to get to the end destination. A devout Christian or proponent of the afterlife might disagree. But I don't care, standing with my hands on my hips for a few metaphorical minutes I am of the mindset, once again, that this is it, the detsination can wait, right here, right now is what counts. As I am taking my great wee road I am going to take a look around, take in the view, see the beauty, appreciate it with the ones around me and be happy I am sharing it with them. I am going to look in the rearview mirror and see the past disappearing behind me, but still in view, catching my own eye as I look (can I look at myslef in the mirror - say, yes I can). And I am going to look over at my passengers frequently, the people who are relying on me to choose the right gear and see the corners ahead and know in myself that they are in safe hands, our road is paved well, our vehicle is safe, well maintained and tanked up with plenty of fuel to take us down that journey.

That is fighting talk for a serial prevaricator!

Enough already of the vehicle and road metaphor. We all have one life and we better make the damn well best of it. We better jump up and grab it by the b*lls, lest it knock you on your ass, as it will. None of us is immune, none of us is getting even a second younger, so carpe diem and enjoy it.

I am loving my journey, my passengers are the reason to make it. Now let's choose some great wee driving tunes (Sean's yelling "You've been......Thunderstruck!")

Clear

Talking about the weather is so middle aged and Anglo Saxon (shit, what age does middle age start, am I not still young and can I not play the Irish card now), but it is amazing how the weather can dominate your thoughts and observations and affect your mood. My view from my office window takes in Hong Kong Park, Garden Road, part of Victoria Peak and reflected in the shiny mirrored towers opposite I can see Victoria Harbour and part of Kowloon. For one of the only times in many weeks I can see all clearly without a hint of the cloud and smog within which it has been habitually cloaked. It is great to have a view of greenery, mountain, sky and sea. Despite this I usually end up looking out at the traffic snaking its way up the hill towards Mid Levels and the Peak. I smirk (I am quite good at that - nasty habit) at the poor driving and decision making of the local drivers. I have been driving for 20 years, although have spent large chunks of that time carless and an infrequent driver, yet I have a superior complex about my driving ability, having been well taught. Whether that will be borne out on the first time we rent a car here or even buy one in the future is yet to be determined.

Today I made my customary walk to work, iPod on, constantly shuffling to get to a song I like. I settled on Caldonia by Muddy Waters."Donia, Donia, what make your big head so hard..... Talkin' about my baby, Caldonia is her name." I live on the urban thoroughfare that is Robinson Road. At a guess I reckon up to about 60,000 people live on that one road. Our building complex must house 2,500 people. I walk through the Botanical Gardens, past the mini-zoo animals, down through the "mushroom fountain" garden, down Garden Road and into the Chater Square area on the overhead walkways to Bank of America Tower. Today was one of those days in which I do not recall noticing anything much. I guess I was lost in my thoughts and thinking I need to do my blog. I did not even see/notice the zoo animals today, where as some days I stop and talk to the monkeys or at least whistle to them. When I reached the fountain garden I saw my old friend the be-visored, mirror holding, backwards walker. I adore the fact that the all ages of people, especially seniors are out in the public spaces exercising (there is a group who stand in a circle and kick a large shuttlecock type hackysack thing around and I see a lot of tai chi and general swinging of limbs and slapping of one's own body parts), but a lot of it is kind of abnormal exercise and this woman is my particular favourite. She looks elegantly daft with her spotless exercise gear, bum bag, huge visor covering her whole face while she moves swiftly backwards while glancing in her mirror which she brings to her face every two or three seconds..... She is probably some eccentric millionaire, famous actress of triad boss wife (Ahh, my imagination is back). She probably is blogging right now or telling her husband, girlfriend or imaginary friend about the stupid gweilo she sees every day walking to work and who creeps her out by staring at her. If you are reading this, Doh san!

Doh san to everyone.

I am a lucky man and today my trams are definitely not clouded. They look pretty busy though.

Tim Ho Wan - Cheapest Michelin Starred Food in the World

Hong Kong is my home and has been for the last 4 months. It tends to exact a high cost for the pleasure of living here as an ex-pat. Rents are high for small apartments, school fees are high if you do not want your child to be taken in to the rote-learning, childhood denying, character-destroying local system and anything that is good or Western (definitely not necessarily the same thing) usually costs a fair bit. However, when it comes to food, Hong Kong can still deliver great value. Not in its CBD western style restaurants but in its local eateries. This fortnight's Time Out Hong Kong's cover article is about the best cheap eats in town. Some of the places seem a bit scary for me, but I am sure once I overcome the adversion to some styles of Chinese cooking I will become a fan too. But the place that everyone is going wild for at the moment is a cheap, cheap dim sum joint set up by a high end chef. That is why Tim Ho Wan ("Add Good Luck") has been on my "must try" list since I first heard about it. We tried it last night and the dim sum does live up to the hype, but did it justify standing for two and a half hours on the street!?

The chef, Mak Pui Gor, apparently was the dim sum chef at the Four Seasons Hotel, where he worked at the three Michelin-starred restaurant Lung King Heen. He then decided to open his own restaurant during the economic crisis, in a nondescript street which sells replica guns and models to war game nerds and modelling geeks, in Mong Kok, one of the most densely populated areas in the world (OK, so that bit makes sense, to open where you have a few million potential customers within a 5 mile radius) and to sell his food for absolute bargain prices of between HK$10 and HK$16 (between 0.85euro and 1.30 euro).

He sells around 750 dishes of his signature crispy pork buns each day. If you ever have had dim sum you will have steamed char sui pork buns. This guy deep fries them and they come really crispy on the outside, stickily sweet on the inside with a lovely chewiness. Most of the other dim sum favourites are there in one guise or another, and are done well, but not really messed around with, as there is probably only so much you can do with a prawn dumpling.

Eimhear and I waited 2 and a half hours to be seated. The place is like a small greasy spoon, with formica topped tables squeezed in and diners sitting cheek by jowl beside each other (I was unable to use my chopstick's comfortably due to the close proximity of the wall, while Eimhear's neighbours had to get up a few times to let people in and out of seats). There must be no more than 40 covers, but I reckon with an average seated time of about 45 minutes and as the place ALWAYS has a queue and is open from 10 to 10, it must do over almost 800 covers a day. We ate 10 dim sum dishes and the bill including constant refills of steaming earthy Chinese tea came to HK$126. Ten pounds sterling, 11 euro!

Some of the dishes are deep fried which make a difference to the steamed dim sum ubiquitous elsewhere, although after a while the fried stuff was getting to be just a little too much. It was fantastic then to receive some delicate jellies containing flower petals and a beautiful juicy red berry I do not know the name of. Very refreshing and I was able to then try the famous char sui pork buns. Yum!

They could easily double the prices, even triple them and people would come, but maybe not in quite such droves. However, from what I hear they have no intention of increasing the prices. We were the only gweillos there!

Also good was the steamed egg cake,the turnip cake and the shrimp dumplings with cabbage, peanuts and dried shrimp. The wait is worth it, especially at those prices.

A big tick off of my Hong Kong list and to be recommended for those who have three hours to kill on a Monday night. I'd say there may be quieter times when you only need to wait an hour to be seated! Go....eat.... or die wondering.

PS Bring a good book or magazine, someone special or a good friend to talk to or go off for an hour's wander and come back. Just don't miss your number as they give you about 2 seconds to answer yours when it's called!

Cold and Steamy Windows

It is cold here. Not the chilling, biting cold of Northern Europe, more the creeping, gnawing away at you kind of cold that you get in damper climates. When I say cold though, it has been in single digits Celsius (ie about 7 to about 9). This may not sound too cold to you, but when your apartment is as well insulated as a streetwalker's stockings, the clothes you own are meant for summer barbecues and there is no central heating ANYWHERE, then one really gets to feel it in the bones as it creeps uninvited through your less than substantial clothes over clammy skin. Not a few months ago I scoffed at those fashion shop storefront posters and billboards proclaiming the arrival of the new winter season stock and Asian women were parading around in fur in 18 degree temperatures. Now, I would rip that fur from their backs, not in an Animal Rights kind of way, more in an animalistic, get-me-warm-now kind of way. I suspect some jackets and coats will be brought back from our visit to the homeland this summer and carefully stored away for next winter. Hey, I feel a wee bit bad complaining about it when most of the mid-Northern hemisphere has had weeks on end of deluges of snow and sub-zero temperatures (so for you people, 9 degrees is tropical) but for some reason it feels colder and less bearable here.

My wife has been sick off and on now (mostly sick i.e., "on") for the best part of two weeks. I feel bad for her as she is going ballistic being stuck at home, too weak to stay up out of bed for more than a half an hour. It is at times like this when you realise that it is easy to take for granted good health and the good company of your life partner, who sustains you normally with happiness, sunny positivity, conversation, hugs and kisses a well as does an amazing amount of things which you can never dream of accomplishing on your own when there is just one of you! Message to my poor sickly wife - please get better soon, for all our sakes!!

The mountain, half-way up I live, has been in cloud for a lot of the last few weeks. That has meant everything is damp. Mould is starting to grow around window frames and in the guest bathroom and clothes never feel fully dry. Moulds smells are appearing. I hope it heats and dries up soon. When a man's golf bag goes mouldy he knows he needs to..... get out and play more? Hmmm, I wonder how Tiger is doing. He will speak tomorrow for the first time since his fire hydrant incident. Would not like to be in his shoes, even if the whole thing is an orchestrated, Tiger-controlled, charade.

Stay warm and dry out there.

Kung Hei Fat Choy!

The Chinese Lunar New Year has just passed in the part of the world where I currently reside. This is the longest holiday in the Chinese calendar and a time for families to reunite and exchange gifts (lai see in Cantonese). It is an extremely confusing time for a gweillo (white ghost) ex-pat person, as the rules about to whom you should give lai see are a bit hard to understand. One puts even numbered money into little red envelopes (packets) and hands them to relatives and people who provide you with services. It's like an annual tip and the giving of the lai see is accompanied by wishes of good health, happiness and prosperity for the forthcoming year. I believe they should only be given to unmarried persons, although some say I should give to all people in my office and in my apartment block who seem to be asking for it. Then, I am told if they are married, I should only give to the children of such married person. If in doubt I say, just hand them out to everyone, except peers and superiors!

It is an optimistic time of year for all, I guess not dissimilar to the Western Christmas and New year. Although many westerners I know, especially of protestant / Presbyterian denomination are consumed with Dickensian bleakness at the festive time of year. Humbug to them I say!

We have good reason to be optimistic in these parts as the Chinese economoy (if you trust the figures) is still growing at almost double digit pace, while the nations that surround it are also showing signs of solid growth. Except Japan that is. At least this week it should be quiet in work.

It is the year of the Tiger. I wonder what that means, especially for Tigers? Not sure how good it will be for one Tiger, as last I heard he was still in self-imposed exile after his extra-marital affairs came to light..... Now I wonder what Chinese zodiac signs Rory McIlroy and Padraig Harrington are....

Where to Start

Where does one start? There is a burning ambition to post something so witty, intelligent and well written that it will hook the readers (if you write it, they will read it - yeah, right). My aim here is to commit my thoughts and musings to writing and for my blog to lay witness to my life, as I try to get the most out of that life. I think writing will help me do that. I have been told that I am a good writer, I have a gift, and while a creeping negative thought will lay a seed in my mind that the people who tell me such things have misguided confidence in me, the intended effect is taking greater hold - to inspire and to embolden me to just start typing and to banish the negativity.

So, my second day and second entry. And I am feeling pretty smug still.

Birth of a blogger

Having watched Julie & Julia with a certain amount of admiration and cringing, it is with trepidation that I commence my blog. It is something I have thought of doing for quite a while, but in my usual style, I have prevaricated, dithered and avoided. So here I am on line 4 of the blog and I already feel a sense of achievement. Surely, this is why anyone (or the majority of people at least) starts a blog, for their own needs, not for anyone else. They can express themselves in an anonymous way, in a modern way and commit musings, rants and raves, excitement and disappointment to the great body of stuff that is the Internet, the blogsphere, the thingammybob of "out there" and no longer just in one's own head. Not a diary, which can be read and used against you in some cruel way, and not as difficult as getting yourself published in a magazine or in a book.

So here I am and I am feeling pretty smug.