32 Hours in Hong Kong

 

 

 

In previous missives I have been a little castigating about Chinese roads and transportation services, so let me redress the balance by relating my recent experiences by way of my latest trip to Hong Kong (HK). Let’s pick this up for your starter on my Thors’ Day…

 

Any of you who are regular followers of these scribbles will know I am not very good with this thing called “Time”, but on this occasion I was naturally awake at 3.30 am and ready to start the day. Hmmm! A little early for what is bound to be a very long day or two. I curl up on the settee with a rug over the top of me and fall under for another couple of hours. By 5.15 am I really can’t be done with anymore sleep, so plan to catch the 6.30 ferry to the Mainland - Oh, if the gigantic thoughts of mice and men were so easy to implement in the physical world!

 

I am virtually ready for the off before six O’clock. But then my bowels start rejecting the ample amount of chillie I had eaten the night before, and all in all, I know I will need to pay my very good friend ‘WC’ a visit or three before I go anywhere. Crazy stuff this chillie, and once inside of you there doesn’t appear to be an ‘off-switch’ for excise of said demons…

 

Actually this is all quite useful time, as I haven’t packed anything yet, and also remember to take my reserve of HK dosh with me. I stroll out only to be offered a lift to the ferry terminus by an island friend, Suzuki Seb = a good start. I am travelling first to Guangzhou to get my passport from Nancy (As I didn’t give her enough time to get me a visa from Beijing). The ferry is on time and cool, very cool in fact as we are experiencing an unnatural cold spell right now. The wind chill makes everything tantamount to freezing! I am wrapped in several layers + my winter anorak thingymagig and knitted gloves with finger-tips professionally removed (For typing). These are black with sexy purple-glitter furry wristbands, which contrast awfully with my apple green anorak thingymagig!

 

The ferry is on time, and in Gaogong I am met by two motorcycle taxis. The first one only speaks Mandarin, so I have to produce the piece of paper with my destination that my wife lovingly prepared for me just before I left. 5 RMB! Last time I was quoted Y15. Cool. I hop on, and everything is going great until we reach MacDonald’s. He then veers off to the right, whilst I was under the impression we were supposed to be headed straight-on and then left a bit. I decide this trip is going to be an adventure, and wait to see where I end up.

 

He turns left, and then right and we arrive at the town centre. There are three coaches waiting, all headed for where I need to be. But that’s not all; he also points me to the ticket office. Damn! So that’s what this place is then, I thought it was a local lottery. I get my ticket to Kengkou (Pronounced Heng Hao in Cantonese), and then am ushered onto the adjacent bus – which is leaving in one minute. Wow! And it gets better:

 

This bus does every stop, and I am sort of looking forwards to finding out where it actually passes in Foshan City, but this is not to be. We catch-up with another bus from the same coach company, with identical characters on the outside. Following in tandem for a couple of stops, we then amalgamate. The Conductress patrols the alley and basically says = you headed for Guangzhou (GZ), then get off this coach now and get on the other coach. OK, although a tad strange even for China, but Ok. So I am now on a different coach headed for GZ. The two coaches run in tandem again for a short while, but then my coach hits the outer ring road whilst the other one heads for Foshan. I still want to know where the other coach goes to in Foshan, but am thankful for missing the metropolis all the same. I here a telephone ringing nearby and reach onto my left pocket. At the same instant the guy in the window seat reaches into his right pocket. It is my phone that was ringing, but we share a laugh as apparently we also share the same ringtone.

 

We are on the express coach, so there are no stops at all until I see my destination passing beneath the flyover we are on. I get up and query this with the attendant, only to be told not to worry and to sit down. ‘Yes Sir, Madam’.  The other side of this flyover has a cut-off lane which we take, and turning 270 degrees we come to the bus station opposite my destination. I take the footbridge and am soon in the foyer of the metro station … and it says metro station in English. I only comment upon this because in the rest of China underground trains go to the name ‘Subway’. I get my ticket from the machine as if I was a seasoned local, and head off to the platform. In no time the train arrives and I get a seat. I actually follow the station announcements better in Cantonese than I do in English, but I will not worry unduly about this. The tri-lingual announcement is also in Mandarin, and I follow some of those also. Crikey!

 

I have to change lines one stop from my destination, and this is quite comical because they use a short hop train connection on this link, which is not obvious and contrary to displayed signs. I assist a confused Chinese man to the right platform location and he thanks me profusely. The next train is in, and within a minute I am aboard and headed for CITIC Plaza. Time for a smoke, and perhaps a visit to my very best of friends? Yes it is time again, and so greeting the office receptionist quickly, I tell her I have diarrhoea and need the WC like ‘ASAP’. No problem and she not only gives me the key, but also takes me to the door. This one has western sit-on toilets and those flashy plastic seat covers that revolve when you hit the switch. I collect my passport shortly afterwards and head out into the street headed for my worst nightmare place, Guangzhou East Railway Station (GZERS). This is just one stop on the metro line, and I am there before 10.10 am. That’s less than 3-hours from when I left home, so pretty damn good!

 

‘GZERS’ turns out to be ok actually, and I guess it is only my nightmare because it is the only destination from anywhere in this part of China late at night. By daylight it is Ok. I find the entrance to the Hong Kong train, but worry I do not have a ticket yet. I ask the attendant in good Cantonese, and he is well made-up. We have a laugh and he points me to two ticket booths on the floor below, joined by the slowest escalator in the world. I walk down the slowest escalator in the world and head for the left-hand ticket booth. I reach one and wonder how people can find them, as they are tucked away out of sight. I get my ticket and decide I have time for a ciggie; just. For interest, there are two attendants selling tickets, one in RMB and the other in HK$. The price is the same regardless, but the queue is for RMB, so I pay HK$ and save a few minutes.

 

As smoking is banned in Chinese travel locations, I head outside through the nearby doors and find a rooftop plaza, complete with Chinese MacDonald’s, which I hastily pass by (Well, the American one is bad enough surely?). Finishing my smoke I squash the butt and gently kick it into the pan of one of the street cleaners who is waiting nearby for something to do.  We laugh and I go for the train. Customs is a breeze and in no time I am headed for the train. The customs guy even shared a joke with me – fancy that. I have travelled this way on a couple of occasions before, but perhaps I should describe Chinese trains for you.

 

The first thing you should know is that Chinese trains do not have a bogey width based upon the dimensions of a Roman Chariot, unlike the rest of the world (Which is 4 feet, 7 and three quarter inches in case you wondered). The wheels are spaced a bit wider apart. Second is that these trains are like English double-decker buses, with second class beneath, and VIP on top. I actually went for VIP this time, but both sections are pretty good. I am escorted to my carriage, and then another charming girl escorts me to my large, single window seat that is excellently comfortable. As soon as I am seated an attendant arrives with a bottle of water, glass, and gives me a couple of bags of different types of peanuts. The opposite row is double seating, with some arranged with a table in between. It is all very kosher. Hello England!

 

There is a magazine rack for free use, and one paper in English (China Southern Daily). Then the attendant returns with the drinks trolley, which I forgo. A short time later he reappears with the menu, and I plump for a cheese and ham sandwich with coffee. Both are excellent, and the sandwich also contains some form of sour cream dressing. Yummie! This is all made fresh to order, and presented as it should be in the West, complete with sandwich without crusts in a plastic sandwich box, and coffee + cream in small tubs, and brown sugar. Spot-on! It is so good I may even try the roast beef meal next time.

 

It takes a little over one-hour to reach Shenzhen, but then things slow as we enter the Hong Kong train system. However, I debark within two hours and am in Kowloon, Hung Hom station. I get a transfer to the local line within the same building, but have to walk outside and around the block, down some non-descript stairs, and through a tunnel to get there = a British design legacy. A direct escalator would be a great improvement thank you. Anyway, 5-minutes later I am at my immediate destination in Tsim Shar Tsiu.  I go to CITS (China International Travel Services) and apply for my new visa, which is my only reason for this trip. The girl speaks good English and asks me why I don’t have a D visa (Residency). We chat and share a joke as she processes my application; I pay by western credit card, and head-off for my hotel.

 

I decide to walk on the left side of the road for most of the way (About 1 mile), simply to avoid the intrusion of Indian suit hawkers. I am very hot, because the sun is out and it is tee-shirt weather in HK. I am sporting my winter woollies, so disrobe in short time. One of the curiosities that have afflicted the International Banking industry over the last year or so is that they appear to be replacing all the old and reliable ATM machines with new ones that don’t work. Well, that is a slight overstatement. They work if you have a locally issued bank card. This is now prevalent in Mainland China, and also in Hong Kong. The reason appears to be the new machines use a different and enhanced security system = they won’t give you any money on your foreign issued Visa Card. This is extremely annoying! I have queried this with my bank, and also with Visa Inc; both of whom replied with curt answers saying I must have entered the wrong pin number, or something equally stupid and unhelpful. Listen-up you guys: There is a growing problem which YOU need to address, not blame me for. So, I have learnt that in HK I can only use HSBC bank ATM’s, and not all of their machines work either. I head to one in Jordan that I know likes my card, and withdraw an irregular amount of money. By default, all HK banks issue HK$500 notes, which can be too large for some retailers. So part of my withdrawal is HK$400, giving me 4 x 100 notes in addition to the larger ones. Now I can pay cash for my hotel room, which lies just around the corner.

 

I arrive at my hotel and the Manageress greets me like a long lost friend. She says a girl rang her to confirm my booking, and I say it was my wife. She then sees our wedding picture and comments that she is very attractive. I say this is the picture from our wedding in Toisan (Tai Shan), and this turns out to be her home city. Small world! It is now about 1.30, so I head out to visit China Ferry and see what Sea-Cats go directly to our area. Since my last visit they have reinstated ferry services to Siu Heng (Zhaoqing), and I now also have the schedule for Go Ming ( Gao Ming) and Hoksan (He Shan) = my local town on the other side of the river from my island home. Excellent! Well worth the visit. I buy some embrocation for my wife, and head off for my favourite bar/restaurant.

 

I like café ‘La Fountaine’ in Centenary Square because it is ambient, the staff are nice and chatty, and it is a really good place to pass time and meet new people. I do not see the Manageress upon arrival, but the staff know me well and we exchange pleasantries in versions of English and Cantonese. I ask ‘Mei’ (who is from Thailand) if it is ‘3 o’clock yet?’ as happy hour is from 3 pm to 9 pm, and the current time is showing 2.43pm. This means, buy one beer and the next is free. Apparently I am too early and have to wait. At around 2.50 she returns and tells me it is now 3pm hahaha! I order a large draft beer in Cantonese and relax. Suddenly my reverie is interrupted by the Manageress giving me a great big hug! (Apparently she was having lunch when I arrived). We have a really good chat between times when she is dealing with customers. I am sure her English has improved, and say so – and I get profuse thank you’s and another big hug. Mmmh! She tells me she has been taking English lessons. She is actually Filipino, but has been in HK for so long that she now considers it to be her home. What I like so very much about her is not her looks (For she is an older woman), but the fact that her comforting demeanour is that of a Nanny well versed in the wiles of looking after slightly naughty boys. In the past we have also shared secrets about the owners’ and other trivia.

 

This day we see some Chinese who are not Chinese, and who soon sit next to me. I work out they must be Korean. I later discover I am right. They are talking a lot about the Obama visit, but they are more insular than Chinese or Foreigners, and I do not press them for conversation. Then a pretty girl joins their table, and she is a present for the Big Boss. I think she is Chinese, but it turns out that she is actually born in South Korea, but has lived in HK for most of her life. I leave them to it, and soon only the Big Boss and girl are left. He is embarrassed about it, but she soon mollifies him, and some good time later they also depart - hand in hand! They are replaced by some Europeans, who I work out must be Italian.  One of the guys asks staff directions for the toilet, but I am not convinced I understand her directions so add my version of them in English, which he readily understands. No other conversation during their visit, although they do speak good English; but then as they leave, he thanks me. Yes he would have got lost without my input. Chill time draws to a close, and I order a superb Thai curry complete with rice and salad, separate fries, and roti. Top hole!

 

The menu is actually very good, and caters for all tastes and nationalities. They have lunchtime specials, and happy hour is 3 to 9 pm. I’m set for the duration!

 

Suitable stuffed, I head for the hotel; but fancy a little J’un es sais quoi? I ask the landlady if she can recommend a local ‘Hair-Washy’ or ‘Foot-Massagey’.  She tells me there is an excellent girl, Number 92, and she calls to make the appointment for me. We do a map sort of thing, and then I head off with ten minutes to spare. I am only doing this so I can tell you readers what a Hong Kong style massage is like, honest…

 

The Matre D’homme speaks good English, and comes from Toisan originally – small world, again! The masseuse is actually a Filipino with very good skills. She washes my feet and applies oils, whilst I also later discover she gave the soles of my feet a callus removal treatment by simply using here fingernails – and unbeknownst to me at the time! Then I receive a full body massage, which misses out my most private places, and two hours later we are done. I feel excellent! This is definitely one of the best feelings in the world, apart from the obvious of course.

 

Let me contrast this with a boy’s view of The Bible, in which I was always confused by the part where Mary washes Jesus’ feet and applies oils. We certainly do not have this in UK, and not in most other parts of the world either from my personal experiences. So – just imagine Jesus actually had a foot massage along the lines of the one I have just experienced. Right! Now it all starts to make some sense.

 

And the evening and the morning becomes the next day. I linger AM, as I have nothing at all to do in HK except wait for my new visa, which will be ready around 6pm. I entertain some wishful thinking about the Filipino housemaid they have here, who is an older woman, but has a cracking smile and twinkly eyes. Then I remember I am happily married to a more beautiful woman, so what next then?

 

HK English TV has taken to showing Baby TV in the mornings = switch-off, and I just missed the news in English on CCTV channel 9. The Chinese news channel may have been stating that Jenson Button has signed for MacLaren! I must check this info, as it is critical for boys. And so it is, Jenson joins Lewis’ team, now this should prove interesting as they are very different types of driver. I will not bore you with the nest of vipers F1 has become, so let’s move onwards and outwards towards the streets of Hong Kong.

 

Just before midday I depart amid much fanfare and promise to see them again soon. I know I will end up at Café Fountaine, but try to put this off for as long as possible.

 

Well, there is basically nothing I need to do, nor want to do.

 

I find a ‘Welcome’ store which is hidden down some stairs and in the basement is a small supermarket. It is selling corned beef at HK$44 for Libby’s, which is an outrage. It was HK$20 six months ago. Cheese is equally expensive, and a half pound of processed Anchor Brand Vintage Cheddar is on offer at HK$ 75! You cannot be serious, but they are? I find some other things I may buy later, and do buy some ‘Doggy-chews’ for Be Loi. The time is now 12.30, and I only have 5 and a half hours to waste doing nothing before my visa is ready. Wow-wie! I check out Park and Shop, only to find the store doesn’t really stock much in the way of Western produce, and what it does have is even more expensive than Welcome. Durrr! I consider going to the large Wan Chai store, as they occasionally have Walls sausages, but then again; if I were in UK they would not be top of my sausage shopping list. Hmmm?

 

I vaguely look into a couple of perfumeries in the vain hope they may sell Davidoff roll-on for men, but they don’t stock it any more. It is the only one that doesn’t create that ghastly foam under your armpits when you are dancing. That’s how Coco Channel made her name by the way. I look for some of my wife’s preferred perfumes and deodorants, but they are also out of stock = a dead line. Still, I have made it to just after 1pm now, so less than 5 hours to go. So what can I do next?

 

Nothing

 

I head for the bar…

 

Today is a little more active, and I watch Chinese tourists pass by, whilst also people-watching the Hongkongians using the café. The draught Tsingtao is excellent, and I settle into a wait and see mode. I am soon greeted by a Dutch group, who are very interesting. We discuss all about everything for a pleasant hour or so, and after they depart I again check the time … made it to 2.40 then. Now what?

 

The new girl at this bar notices I have perspicacity for nuts with wasabi coating (Japanese for Concentrated English Mustard made from horseradish), so she brings me a whole bowl full of the damned things. Fantastic!

 

2.44: Now what … I mean, there is absolutely nothing I have to do, nor want to do here. I sip my beer and consider I could leave in around 3-hours time. Wow! Only 3-hours to go then

 

Time passes, a butterfly lands on me. Time passes, the butterfly departs…

 

2.58 and forty seconds! I am watching the fountain.

 

And so it continues until around 4pm. Then I spy a likely suspect! Initially he passes by, but I know he will be back. This person later turns out to be my good friend Jim, and we are both here only to renew our passports, and basically just killing interminable time. He’s from Seattle and 2-years into life in China. We swap cards and stuff, and before we know it the clock is showing 5.45. How did that happen? I end up rushing to finish my food and leaving half a beer = Crazy! So, three hours passes as an instant, whilst before the seconds dragged by. Cracking! I have since spent a memorable long week-end in Foshan and my island with Jim, and he is a great guy.

 

I don’t have time left to buy chocs for the neither missus, nor Hellman’s mayonnaise at vastly inflated prices. Opps!

 

Jim and I both rush off to our destinations, and have been in contact since. I get to CITS and my ‘passey-port’ is ready, so off to Tsim Shar Tsiu East again, but this time to Shenzhen (SZ) via the metro. All transportation systems start winding down in China at 6pm, and the most convenient are the first to cease work. I get a seat on the first train, but am confused also – as going the other way this is the last stop, yet going to SZ we have to change at Hong Hum and enter a full carriage? I do get a seat after a few stops, but it is very curious – even for China? I arrive in SZ for around 7pm, and am quickly through Customs + they also have time for a laugh – maybe you should try it sometime, but not the odd ones sporting vicious-looking machine guns perhaps! Ah ShenZhen, a City I love to hate. I head from the train station across and pedestrian plaza (Of the outdoor garden type), to the conveniently situated inter-state coach station 100 yards away. The coach is not in, so I indulge in a ciggie. As soon as said drug is extinguished, the bus pulls up, and I head immediately for the central door. On board I am first so choose my preferred seat at the rear end, which is just behind the ‘Bus-TV’ monitor on the larger leg-space side.

 

We do the usual stuff: First a girl comes and takes my money, then another girl comes past with a video camera – so I give her a big smile, well ??? why not. I get a free bottle of water and become aware I am very tired. I try to sort out an uncomfortable seating arrangement (The ergonomically designed seating is designed for midgets, not large bulky people such as myself), but am then joined by a young girl, whilst her Father finds a seat elsewhere. We exchange pleasantries, and yes, she does speak good English, although her Cantonese is not as good as mine. I do go to sleep, and later register she is also asleep on my shoulder. Ok = she seems a nice kid and probably around age 10 or 12?

 

I surface to find we are in a traffic jam, and call my ‘Chinese Brother’ Eason to say I will be late for evening drinks in Foshan. Then my wife rings to say she is in Foshan waiting for me = Pukker! I go back to sleep and miss the end of the roadwork’s or accident, whatever. The next thing I know the girls Father is trying to wake her, and we are only 10 miles out from the coach station. It appears he is determined for them to be first off the coach, and has marked his ground accordingly. Get real! I go back to the land of Nod.

 

It is actually 15 minutes later when we are approaching the terminus that I decide to wake up. The girl is flopping about encouraged by her Father = very sleepy. She reminds me of Lobby-Loo ha-ha! I leave them to their theatrics and concentrate on my sleepy personal plans:

 

  1. Do I have any?
  2. Yes I do!
  3. First I ring Eason, who is asleep. No boy’s beers tonight then, but that’s ok.
  4. Then I ring my wife – and she is waiting for me in room 408. Result!

 

The bus pulls into Foshan Hong Won, and the Father is first off the coach, accompanied by his very sleepy rag-doll. Worth it then I guess? It then and only then occurs to me that I should have let the girl and Father sit together, and I could have taken his seat. Oh well!  I follow a little while later = 5-seconds, but stop to light a butt. Foshan Coach Station is very crazy at night, as I have mentioned before in lost missives. They have a very large taxi rank patrolled by a ‘Gaffer’ who decides who goes where, and at what cost. My previous interactions with this dick-head have lead me to believe that his taxi’s either go to Guangzhou or Shenzhen (The bus I have just got off-of). To travel one mile will cost me 100 RMB, and there is no meter service available – something which is actually against Chinese Law.

 

I head immediately for the nearby intersection and will hail a proper cabby there. Low and behold, the Father and waking child are also there waiting for a reasonably priced fare to their home. We have an exchange of knowing looks and smiles. I let them have the first taxi that pulls up inside 30 seconds, as the Daughters needs are greater than mine, and anyways they were first in the queue lol. An interloper steals the next ride, but I am only half way down my ciggie, so ‘no problemo’. I ditch the butt only to find a cabbie sauntering across god knows how many red lights in order to get my custom on his meter. Cool, and he even understands my Cantonese instantly – Ahh, it’s good to be home at last!

 

As I pay for the ride, he even complements me on my Cantonese, so I let him keep the 1 RMB change – I’m becoming a soft touch I guess. I am dying on my feet and need to go to sleep immediately. But first I have to climb 20-million steps to get to the hotel room. Ok, I exaggerated and it is only 4 floors of climbing. This place is about Travelodge standard and costs around Y90 per room per night = peanuts, $12, or £8-something? Knocking the door, a delighted Siu Ying greets me with a big hug and we exchange news. I really want to curl up in bed, but she is hungry – so out we head for a late night eatery.

 

She takes me to an area I know well, and the second of two restaurants I used to frequent years ago with Neal. We also used to enjoy the odd beer late at night sitting outside a small shop opposite, at the entrance to a very Chinese local quarter. Well, the outside seating has been replaced with modern plastic chairs, but everything else is just about the same. Inside the restaurant I reflect on some times past, whilst Siu Ying orders our meal. I have been there for a nightcap with Neal at 5 am, and on another occasion we sat and chatted outside this shop just after midnight. Although we were into our own stuff, we did eventually notice that there were many very pretty girls entering and leaving this old style Chinese condominium (Garden). Being now aware, we did watch, and for sure at 1 am or so, very attractive girls would hurry out of this Garden and into waiting taxis. Often they would reappear slightly dishevelled about 30 minutes later. We really creased ourselves with laughter, plus the added ‘WTF’ is this all about factor. Hahaha! Readers can work this one out for themselves, for it surely isn’t rocket science.

 

Back to the present, and in the restaurant we are having ‘Hot-Pot’, which comprises a very large metal bowl centrally divided into two parts, placed on a gas ring. It features hot chillie one side, and coconut milk with herbs in the other. This is cook-it yourself style, so we add: English and Chinese potatoes, two types of mushrooms, thin strips of lamb, pig’s brains, squid, and tripe. There are also other vegetables lurking nearby for later addition. The food is excellent and the hot side is extremely hot! We pass a pleasant couple of hours, but leave just as the first party revellers arrive from nearby nightclubs. We get back to the hotel around 2am and both go immediately to sleep.

 

Neither of us slept particularly well for no apparent reason; however, we are surprised to discover the time is now approaching 11am. I go to the bank across the road, which is having a funny and won’t give me any money! I watch and wait whilst other withdraw funds, so decide to have another go. This time it works! You have no idea how annoying this saga is ‘Visa’! However, it won’t accept my second card, so I give up and rejoin my wife. She is waiting for my return in the hotel foyer, where outside moments later Eason arrives in his car, and we head for lunch. The restaurant is new to me, but of a good calibre.

 

Eason departs before 2pm, as he is expecting the arrival of a bathroom for his new home. I am ready to head home, but Siu Ying wants to go shopping in Ba Fa (Bai Hua in Mandarin), the city centre. I get my head round ambling aimlessly around a multitude of clothes shops and similar, before steering her surreptitiously towards a mall within which I am bound to find some jeans that fit me – Cantonese are generally of a lot smaller frame than I, so buying new clothing is a major problem for me in most outlets. I buy two pairs (CK and Jeep) and we continue our meander. Beats me what girls like about shopping, but she is happy, so that’s great! She takes me into a side street jeweller and discusses having my Mothers’ engagement ring adapted to suit her small fingers. Basically this means putting the crown onto another ring of far smaller diameter, but there are technical problems we need to sort out first. By 4pm she has had her fill, so we head for the bus in order to beat the rush hour. The journey home is uneventful, although the stupid roadwork’s are still in operation at the Foshan Number 1 Ringroad interchange with the G325 –causing a massive detour and 20 minutes lost.

 

Let me digress, as this is a classic! On the return leg of this detour, which basically takes us up the side road of the Ringroad, and then back again; there is a Chinese juggernaut reversing. This is a big articulated lorry with an extended trailer that is about twice the length of anything I have ever seen in UK. The driver has a team working to help him reverse this monster back onto the Ringroad proper. There is no way he could have got this around the final turn back onto the main road proper, and I guess he discovered this the hard way? By the looks of things he is having his driving skills severely tested just to reverse back to the Expressway!

 

We move on and meet the next interchange, which is a mêlée of confusion that surpasses rush-hour in central Cairo, and overlooks the place where they have built an underpass beneath the new Expressway interchange – an awesome feat of seriously technical engineering. I hope it reopens soon :- )

 

We arrive in Gaogong, which could be translated as dog-pee if the Chinese characters were different. However, it is pronounced the same hahaha!

 

… and we later arrive home to be greeted by a very excited Be Loi. I think to check email but don’t, before heading for bed at an unusually early hour.

 

Of course, this saga isn’t finished until I re-register with the Chinese Public Security Bureau (Police), which I now know is spoken: ‘Gung An’, or ‘Geng’ for short. Geng also means Ginger, so you can draw your own conclusions. Anyway, it is Saturday and they are shut, as they will be tomorrow – so I will therefore carry-on relating the events of this saga undaunted.

 

Ring-ring, ring-ring…

 

It is 8am, and I have been working since 4am (My prerogative). It is Uncle Sam telling me he is on the ferry and will arrive in 10 minutes. I get busy and finish my immediate work. Then I start a new project and complete others. Time passes. I try to work out if it is time for a beer or a coffee? It is only 10.45am, but I have been working hard since 2am. That’s almost 9 hours then. Hmmm? My reverie is interrupted by a call from beyond my gate – Uncle has arrived! He has brought with him some important Chinese business people + their entire living families, and a small dog. I ponder … as instead of trying to decide between a coffee and a beer at 11am, perhaps I should already be half way down a bottle of Vodka hahaha!

 

After brief introductions we soon adjourn to Au San’s restaurant, where I do have a beer. I know and like some of this party, especially Lou San and his second wife, whilst the majority remain new to me. The restaurant is crammed today, and had we not advanced booked, we would be in the new extension, which is not finished by way of a roof ... or even tables & seating for that matter. The other Boss is into discussing boats, whilst Lou San is up for Olives in Guangxi. ‘The medicine’ is going down really well and we have a great time. Siu Ying collects left-over’s for Be Loi in a Doggy-bag, and we head home. Uncle and others head off for an island tour, whilst we feed a very happy Be Loi.

 

Time passes, as it tends to do when waiting for the return of guests. I go back to work, but ring Uncle after 5. Ahha! He is back home and they left on the 3 O’clock ferry. Thanks! I do what I need to do, and go to sleep, as tomorrow will be full of unexpected adventures – rely upon it!

 

Monday

This day my only priority is to register with PSB (Police and visa) and get a new and permanent Certificate of Temporary Residency in China. No typo. Everything else takes second priority.

 

I have allowed all day for this inexorably prolonged and exacting exercise in crass stupidity. My wife is equally prepared…

 

I have enlisted the help of my good friend Paul (Yuan Wei) to assist proceedings, as this is my first registration in a different part of the same city; and I am expecting ‘small complications’. He has never experienced this before, so it should prove ‘interesting’ for all.

 

We greet Yuan at the Mainland quay around 10.15 am and head off to ‘The Police Station’, which is 5-minutes walk away. However we travel by his car, which takes 6-minutes, but I have an ulterior motive and much else to do, time allowing?

 

Climbing the steps to the Main Police headquarters, we accompany someone who is probably Chinese CID. The ground floor is deserted, and before we think about where to go, the CID chappie asks and directs us to the second floor. Then he directs us to ‘The other second floor’, which in American and Chinese would be the third floor. He is from Hong Kong then, or presumed the three of us were British?

 

We head for an office in the corner, as directed by ‘Hong Kong Kan-San’, and we find a clutch of startled girls all pretending to be doing important things using computers. It seems we are in the wrong place, although they do supervise what their satellite offices do. We are directed to another Police Station, which is about 3 miles away, and not closer to the island. I have my doubts about this, but I do have to do this, so go with the flow.

 

Inside of 10 minutes we rock-up at Police Station Number 2. It is an inconspicuous establishment hidden by a building site and adjacent waste ground, with main entrance tucked helpfully down a sociably inaccessible side-street. We eventually find the entrance, and are greeted by Security, who nods back at me as I walk on by giving him a cursory wink. To my right are a collection of disassembled or trashed Mah Jonng tables … and I consider briefly if these could be relics from their Police Club, or the trashed remains of confiscated and illegal goods. I better not go there I guess, so head for the reception.

 

I get out my:

  1. Passport
  2. Photographs
  3. Photo copies of last entry page, last entry stamp (This time placed on my previous entry page for convenience, not)
  4. My last Certificate of Temporary Residence – so they know that I am legal, and this is what I want.

 

Eventually the Sergeant at Arms gets off the phone and recognises he has customers. Paul explains why we are here, whilst I support with documentation.

 

Nope, it seems we are in the wrong Police station. I guessed so already. I was sort of expecting this, but Yuan is flabbergasted. The result is we have to go to a different Police station to register, but then return to this one so I can get the official ‘Stamp’. I had experienced something similar in Foshan previously, so ‘no problemo’

 

Number 3 Police Station turns out to be in the very centre of town, but we need to go there after 2.30pm, as the guy we need only works afternoon shift’ there  today. I do ask is this a regular thing, only to be told it varies, and maybe mornings on a different day, or the same day next week. I get a contact phone number to check when they are open, except we are not allowed to write this down for security reasons…

 

Here is China!

 

I mentally meddle with the words: ‘Absurd’, ‘Ridiculous’, and ‘Off Your Trolley’; before smiling politely, retrieving all my documents, and heading for Downtown!

 

‘Downtown’ is originally a Hong Kong adaptation from British/American English, which implies the heart or nightclub area. Well, we are here already, and it resembles a sewerage building reconstitution. The smells and mud reflect this into our daily existence, whilst Police Station Number 3 is quagmired in its adjacency. We press-on regardless...

 

My other major task today is to transfer some money from my Bank of China account, to somebody else’s Bank of China account. We go to Bank of China. This Branch has the only ATM that works with foreign visa cards in this town, and it is ‘Out of Order’. Great! Enquiring with staff inside, we discover that they will soon finish replenishing the beast, and it will be working again in a few minutes. By the time we have considered a plan of action, the Security Guard tells me the machine is now working – in English!

 

Outside the machine is up again, and pressing all the right buttons I get the traditional message, “Abnormal Account Activity, please refer to issuing bank”. Most helpful, not! My Bank’s only ‘offshore’ branch is in located in The Isle of Man. Durrr!

 

After this sidetrack, we again head for the counters (No queues here), and I ask a girl to transfer the funds. All appears to be going well, but then she just simply adds the funds to my account. No, let’s try again. It seems that I then have to remove the funds from my account in order to process this request. Then it just happens that they cannot do this with ‘cash’, so I have to re-enter the dosh into B of C account, and am directed to use a machine. During this process the Security Guard has taken over most of the Tellers operations, and is telling her what to do. I still haven’t quite got my head around this, but as we always rely upon: ‘Here is China!’

 

Arriving at the adjacent machine – well: it only speaks Chinese. Security guide me through the process, until the point where we arrive at the understanding that funds cannot be transferred via this machine – as the receiving account is not actually B of C after all. Ahha!

 

We go back to the Teller, and still with no queue - are entering a new phase…

 

She processes my transfer again, and this time it is ok. Except, they cannot confirm the recipient details, and ask me to do several things, none of which make any sense. Then she suggests to Yuan and Siu Ying, that if I had an ‘Online’ account, I could easily do this myself in English; and that virtually all Branch level restrictions would not apply. Everybody agrees this is a good idea, so we go for this. We mangle the form-filling, but it is sort of acceptable. Things are going really well until they process said form, and discover my holding Branch is in the nearby town – which is also within a different City district of Foshan City. They cannot process this and first suggest I need to go to the Branch.

 

But before a premonition of doom besets me, Yuan translates that she can sort this.

 

So we fill in the forms again, and I get issued with 20 pieces of paper to sign (In triplicate). Not using paper much these days, it is very useful time for me to try and get at least two of my signatures looking similar hahaha!

 

I am given a brand new ballpoint pen, this time with black ink … and we submit!

 

Great, everything is fine until we hit the ‘Passport’ problem. Well, I have submitted my current passport, but my Bank references and details all relate to the Passport I originally entered China with … some aeons ago. So the process stops completely; until such time I produce my original passport. No problem, this is at home on the island, and I even know exactly where it is!

 

We depart amidst much fanfare, and a ‘high-5’ from Security bod + our completed but not fully processed yet paperwork.

 

I try the ATM again, but it is not interested and gives me stupid messages instead of my cash!

 

We are still awaiting the 2.30 window for Police action, so I take us for a walk to the nearby store that should now have ‘Dry-cleaned’ our winter bedding. It is not quite where I thought it would be, and using our receipt, Yuan calls them to check – and basically we are just 20 yards away. Delving into the bowels, the owner eventually finds our bedding, and Siu Ying has a go about the price. She is my personal Rottweiller in such matters, and gets Y10 knocked off the agreed price. Finally something is going right, and I feel this afternoon will be excellent!

 

Uncle calls and says we need to meet Lo San for lunch at a nearby restaurant. Seems like a plan, but I tell him we first need to go to the island and get my passeyport + deliver stuff. We agree to meet at the restaurant at 12.30, and I tell him that because of the ferry schedule we will be late. The time is now 11.20, and I reckon we will probably make it for around 1pm.

 

Walking back to the car I make the mistake of dropping by a street store to by some toilet tissue. I get an immediate bollocking from Siu Ying, as apparently a store 3 miles up the road is selling the same thing for one RMB less. Right!

 

Then she says my choice is not good, and she prefers another Brand. Ok, just as long as it is not made out of ‘Cheese-Graters’ it should be fine lol. [Editors Note: this is excellent toilet tissue – never underestimate your wife!].

 

Whilst this is happening, we have lost Yuan into the depths of the store, and he is buying Chinese Teas and various sundries. I compliment by going AWOL also, and add a waterproof toilet tissue holder, large enough for Elephant sized tissue paper, and several other incidentals to our basket. This was actually a tad bizarre, as all three of us did our own thing together for a short while.

 

Then it’s back to the car, and a pre-lunch dash to the island to get my passyport. Considering that Yuan will be taking his car over, and that carbuoys of water are extremely heavy, we stop by the water carbuoy shop en route and I get 2 new bottles, with no returns – so pay-up a Y100 deposit. I also enquire about how many bottles we have to sign up for to get a free machine, as ours is on its last legs, or at least needs a very noisy fan replacing. I don’t really end up with a sensible answer to this question, but do discover that this girl actually does speak Cantonese a bit – just that she always speaks Mandarin. I’ll follow this one later then.

 

I am very conscious of our immanent schedule, as the ferry leaves Mainland at 12.30, and returns at 1pm. The crossing takes an arbitrary 15 minutes, leaving us another 15 minutes to reach my home, offload, reload, and get back to the jetty. I ask Yuan to express to Siu Ying how quick this needs to be. Then I explain this request to Siu Ying so I know Yuan understands. You have to laugh to keep from crying sometimes…

 

We arrive at the ferry and Siu Ying disappears off to the nearby restaurant to retrieve some stuff she left in their freezer for safe-keeping a few days before. The ferry arrives at 12.30 (It’s departure time), and yet I refuse to worry. It departs 5-minutes late, and I amble on deck and enjoy the wind on my face, and the paradoxes of serendipity fading into the mighty rivers ambient grasp

 

We actually get ashore on the island at 12.49, and have 11 minutes until the return trip = easy!

 

And it was. We sort of manage to avoid a very excited Be Loi, lugging bags of washing and carbuoys of water inside. I grab my pc and passeyport, whilst Siu Ying goes for a toilet break. The car repacked we make it back to the ferry for 12.52. Damn, that was quick! Meanwhile Uncle has taken to ringing me every five minutes to relate their progress, and ask where we are. Apparently by the time we get on the return ferry, they have just secured a Private Room at the restaurant. I tell him we will be there in 15 minutes (As he will work off the ferry schedule and not real-time).

 

Well, we rock-up at the restaurant at 1.14, and are swept into the private enclave. I really like one of the guys at the table (In a boy’s friends way), and we greet two new people. The meal is excellent, and then at 2.10 we all start to depart.  We actually make the car park 10 minutes later, and with gusto of goodbyes, head off for the computer shop.

 

This is just down the road and left a bit, and two minutes later we are inside. I think I like the young guy and his partner, as I called here a few months ago, and although language was a barrier = we are talking complex pc things that most normal human beings do not understand at all – We understood each other, and I got a very good feeling about him and his work. With Yuan’s excellent translation skills these judgements are soon confirmed, and he will do what I ask: Add a 512 Mb RAM, remove Vista and upgrade it to XP SP2 (Chinese version in English), + a few other odds and sods. It will be ready tomorrow. Cool. Step rings me (My very longstanding and best friend) and I answer ‘Hello Stephanie Speaking’.  This is because she always answers the telephone by saying ‘Hello, Stephanie speaking’, except I rag her about the ‘speaking’ word as being her surname. The voice on the other end says ‘Jonno, I have not changed my sex or name’! It is Jeff, my great Australian buddy, also of many years standing. He is up for some beers and dinner tonight, and it would be great to catch up with him. 5pm maybe ok, but I say I will confirm once my personal shit is sorted. He is cool, and we have a cunning boy’s plan.

 

Now to sort out the Public Security Bureau and Bank!

 

Wishing fond farewells (And it really is like this in China) to the computer guy and his partner, we arrive back in the middle of town…

 

Entering the PSB compound, we head for the central building with much aplomb. They have no idea what to make of our group and request, no ‘suggest’ we go to the traffic police HQ. Hmmm? – so they will give me a new permit of residency; I don’t think so! Pressing them for confirmation in several languages, they later add that we could try the building next door (Within the same compound). That would then be the one we passed to get to this one right? Yes. So off we go.

 

There is another Chinese CID chappie lurking unobtrusively at the top of the steps, so Yuan asks him if they can help us, and he says “Yes of course!” He directs us inside and tells the Uniforms why we are there

 

The guy behind reception initially tells us we are in the wrong building, and need to travel 100 miles to somewhere else. Yuan uses his initiative and says something, ably supported by Siu Ying. I am encouraged, because all bantering is in Cantonese, which I can just about follow … how did that happen to me then?

 

A Sergeant is called away from late lunch, and he basically says “No Problemo”, and begins processing my details. I know this will take half an hour, as it is my first time in this Precinct. Cool. They have their job to do, and he does his very well. I respect this. I join CID and we share cigarettes, and time passes…

 

Nearly all Chinese Police smoke quite heavily, and smoking is expected inside of Chinese Police Stations. I sit down and find an ashtray, whilst a guy from a local Petrol Station is brought in for some form of processing. From his facial features even I know he is not a local, but he is not in cuffs either. I am presuming this is a Chinese registering of residency thingymagig? All Chinese citizens have to be registered in their town of abode also, and Siu Ying already did this last month when we moved city district.

 

I am duly processed and given two articles of parchment. One is my new Certificate of Residency without the official stamp, and the second is my file for Nomhoi (Nanhai). We are instructed to take both of these back to Police Station Number 2 for due process. “Yessir!”

 

Regaining the street, I do check the Bank again on the way back to the car, but it is definitely never going to give me any money today … “Hello Visa?”

 

Yuan drives us to Police Station number 2 and we joke about visiting every Police Station in this small town in one day – something we later achieve! But for the moment we retrace our steps and are soon re-engaged in an unanimated conversation with Gordon the Goffer, again. We give him the forms from ‘Central’ which he mulls over with slight distain, before looking at my unstamped Certificate and realising that he is finally going to have to do something. So reaching into the bowels of his drawer, he retrieves a pristine official stamp for the purpose of stamping my form, which he does so immediately. He is actually a nice guy, and I malign slightly for your entertainment only.

 

It reminds me a bit about that song by David Grey – sometimes all the lights are red and you are going nowhere, next thing you know – all the lights are green and you are rushing in your bloodstream. The song is called ‘Babylon’ by the way.

 

With this in mind, I decide to see if B of C will heed the pipers tune…

 

Returning to the cesspool of local society, that is the town centre under development, we re-enter the Bank and are greeted once again by ‘Bouncy Bertum, the Banks Security personnel.  He sweeps aside the queue of 1 person, and immediately guides me to a closed Teller, who opens upon his command. Perhaps he is the Branch CEO in disguise? Magic anyways!

 

I hand over the previously completed forms, old and new ‘Passeyports’, and other sundry items; and in 2 minutes I am processed. Thank you!

 

I am given some sort of key ring dongle to which to apply to a computer + some ‘useful numbers’ and we’re done!

 

That took all of about 2 seconds. Yuan has been admirable today, so we offer him and family to join us for dinner later to celebrate, but they have other plans. However, he does say he will pick us up after the meal and take us to the ferry. I have a feeling this may not happen, so thank him and say we will be in touch later.

 

I ring Jeff, only to be greeted by Stephanie Speaking hahaha! We are set to meet at the usual venue at around 5pm in the nearby town of Longgong (Long Jiang). Paul actually lives in the same Garden I used to, but Siu Ying wants a hair washy, so Paul takes us to one she likes the look of. He departs whilst we go inside. Whilst not being the best (Number 52 or Tina in Foshan), it is pretty great, and we chill whilst Guangxi girls work on our hair and massage our bodies. I finish before Siu Ying, because she is having a special girls’ type of facial also, and am lead to the hairdresser (Boy) and brought a glass of water. I resume relaxation mode, but am slightly concerned when my masseuse reappears and says something to my hairdresser (Dryer). He then rushes off upstairs, presumably to talk to my wife. OK. Something is afoot!

 

He returns a minute later, and gets out his scissors! Ouch! My hair has not been cur for 7-years, and I presume this will be a trim. Snip! 10 inches of my ponytail land curiously on my lap. Hmmm! This wasn’t quite what was on my agenda for this evening, but my wife is basically doing this for me, so I guess I better go with it. 10 inches!!! The hairdresser is actually pretty good, and I end up with a sort-of Richard Widmark look, that quite suits me. Never underestimate your wife. Mind you, winter is approaching and it is damned chilly around the gills! The hairdresser is very particular and pays great attention to his work. We can communicate in Cantonese, and soon I am ushered off for another hairwashey – this time downstairs and of a practical nature. The guy that does this is probably of novice grade, and I doubt he has ever seen a foreigner before, never mind washing ones hair. I am then returned to the hairdresser proper and get a blow dry. My wife appears soon after, and we head for the nearby restaurant. Her hair is long, and black, and looks really great!

 

Reaching the designated restaurant we are greeted with great enthusiasm by the owner, and quickly found suitable seating. Jeff rocks up shortly after, and we have a beer and catch up. Brits and Aussies get on really well, especially outside of their native countries + I have known this guy for 7 years, and we met in this small Chinese town originally. Damn! Jeff really likes my new look. Bugger! We talk business and pleasure, and talk about many things. Much later Step arrives with Jeff’s Aussie companion Stuart, and we move to the very largest table the restaurant has at its disposal. I get on with this guy also, as we have lots of geeky computer stuff in common, plus he is thinking of spending a couple of years living in China soon.

 

Meanwhile; Step is Step, and she is a very clever and unusual girl. She is from Malaysia actually, although her Grandfather was from this area of China. She was originally a Piano teacher by training back in Malaysia. She is one of the world’s people that is gifted with many languages; and gets on with my wife very well (Girl’s shopping, etc). I am pretty sure she is fluent in 7 languages, and can change them mid sentence! Wow! She told me my Cantonese has improved considerably, although I do not think so.

 

The five of us present moved to a larger table because we will later be joined by others. And sure enough, within a few minutes other people take seats. Eventually our table completes with 18 people sitting at a Chinese round table designed for 15 people. I am sitting opposite a big local Boss and his number 2, and I know exactly what is going to happen. I toast them personally, simply to confirm my suspicions. Moments later they toast me back, at which point I know we will end up totally wrecked tonight!

 

But that is not what happened. Well, it did , but there was a very interesting person sitting next to me later that evening, and he is deeply into Buddhism, numbers and Egyptology, and especially the number 32. This maybe represents the esoterical roots of that stupid Japanese Suduko thingymagig.

 

Well, we all get totally trashed, have a great time, and I wake up to the sounds of my wife telling me I am a bad boy + my breath stinks. I brush my teeth and that solves one problem. I don’t yet have a hangover, so decide that I better take the initiative and suggest we go ‘Shopping’! It turns out this was a very smart move, as I am now ‘Golden’!

 

The local Plaza is small, but much to Siu Ying’s liking. One store has some clothes she really likes the look of, so we go inside; only to discover the jacket she wants to buy has no lining. She steers me to KFC where she buys food, whilst I tinker with their version of coffee and some fries. She gets a doggy bag for Be Loi.

 

We then get a bus to the bus stop we need to be at for the next part of our journey home, and catch the City bus 236. 3RMB. We wait 8 minutes actually, and these buses should be timed every 5 minutes. The first bus is rammed and standing room only, so we both suggest we wait. Within one minute another bus arrives, which is virtually empty, and we board.

 

We arrive at the most convenient of two bus stations this small town has to offer, and are met by a thriving ensemble of motorcycle taxi drivers looking for a fare. I can’t be done with this shit, and sidestep to light a ciggie. We actually do need to do this thing, but I don’t like the pressurised situation. Siu Ying is into this, and gets us a very low fare to our immediate destination = the local computer shop.

 

Arriving we are met by this guy who has done great works on my pc. He fires it up, but I know already it is fine again. I then get Siu Ying talking to him about a handwriting input device for Chinese characters, something she needs. She is wowed, but then does a deal to convert our laptop from Vista back to XP. Even she as a computer illiterate doesn’t like that operating system, and this came directly from her, without my input! Happenstance: on a later visit to this shop I discover this guy actually lives on our island, and has the only other internet (Broadband) connection. Small world!

 

We leave eventually, and get a couple of motorcycle taxis back to the ferry. We have time on our side, so Siu Ying goes to the local restaurant to buy me some Dim sun for later – which she later cooks for me with eggs, chips, and fries tomatoes. I have no idea where she got the fried tomatoes from, but it works for me + she adds salt, not sugar as is standard in these parts.

 

And that just about wraps up this missive, so thank you for reading.

 

I wish you were here, its ‘Magic our Morris!’

 

 

best wishes, and May your god walk with you – I am happy to note mine does (Sometimes)

Jonno