Lesley in Hong Kong

Railey Beach, Krabi, Thailand

When I booked our holiday to Railey Beach, Krabi, Thailand on-line and clicked on the option to pay in advance for a transfer from Krabi Airport to Railey Beach I had no idea what I was letting myself in for.  The experience was confusing, slightly scary for a bit, but altogether thrilling and beautiful.  I think you know the routine of arriving at an airport at night and not knowing exactly where you have to go, all you have is an address and some local currency.  So I was pleased to see a friendly Thai man, clad in colourful shirt, standing across from the automatic doors holding a sign with our name on it.  A stress free trip to our resort.  We boarded a mini bus and drove in the dark for around forty minutes.  It seemed to be getting darker and there were fewer and fewer and buildings and street lights as we headed for...actually I had no idea where we were going. 

The bus stopped and we were ushered off from the side door while our bags were unloaded and placed upon a tuk tuk which had appeared as if by magic.  There was nothing around us and we were stood on a grass verge by a tiny track in the dark as the mini bus drove one way and the red lights of the tuk tuk went the other.   Just for a second I wondered what was happening as there was no explanation from the trusty mini bus driver apart from a cheery "Bye".  The track seemed to turn into a bridge with railings at either side and as that was the way the tuk tuk went with all our possessions it seemed prudent to follow although it was so dark in the distance we couldn't tell where we were headed.  After about 100 meters the bridge was no bridge at all, it was a pier and waiting for us at the end was a long tail boat and a boatman. 

Amazingly we all climbed down on to the wooden boat and then watched in the darkness as our luggage was past down from the pier to join us, all staying dry.  Then the tranquility of the night was broken as the engine throbbed and we putted off, again into darkness but this time on the sea.  Silhouettes of craggy hills on one side and the reflection of the moon on the water on the other. 

Still no explanation but by this time we were having such a good time we had completely relaxed and were just enjoying the ride.  We approached the twinkling lights of Railey Beach and the water began to get very shallow.  Long tail boats are particularly good at getting into shallow water so it was able to get really close to the beach, not close enough given that we still had to get ourselves and our luggage from the boat to shore.  Another part of the transfer deal appeared out of the darkness, a tractor with a trailer on the back had reversed into the sea to meet us.  We disembarked from the boat to the trailer and the luggage was placed at the back.  We were then pulled onto the beach and as close to a pavement as possible where another kindly chap waited with a trolley for the bags.  We then followed him through a dimly lit garden to the reception. 

Amazingly no one got even so much as a wet sock.

This was the routine for every tourist staying at Railey Beach if we wanted to leave for a spot of shopping in Au Nang we paddled through the water onto a long tail boat and back again.  Sometimes it was just wet feet and sometimes it was wet trousers but, hey, we were relaxed and on holiday, what's a bit of sea water in yer knickers?

The pictures above show the view from the beach as the sun went down.  Each evening was a different light show.  The long tail boats I became a dab hand and boarding plus the deafening engine.  Alex and Lucy making art on the beach.  Volleyball lady boy style.

The photos below are the ever lovely and continuously beautiful Sykes family of Holmfirth and Japan.  Good to see you folks!

Hong Kong Dragon Boating

After some extensive research into the origins of dragon boat racing I feel fully equipped to tell the world all about it and why it happens.  Well, to be honest I just asked my mate why on earth he wants to punish himself with unnecessary and arduous sweaty training sessions on his days off.  With his usual transparent blagging all through my penetrating interview technique he attempted to convince me that he was enthralled with the Quote unity achieved as 16 to 22 people hone their skills and strength while paddling around the beautiful outlying islands dotted around the

South China Sea

. Unquote.  You see I told you he was blagging.

After the gritty training which builds muscles on muscles his team was ready for the big day, last Tuesday.  Where for, at the most, three minutes, the training was put to the test and they paddled for all they were worth towards the finish line in Sai Kung harbour.   A magnificent spectacle if you didn’t blink and miss it.   

I observed the team from HKUST afterwards enjoying their après paddle with roast pig and San Miguel which is obviously a deeply entrenched tradition with meaningful significance.  Or was it just to kill the pain in the forearms and to deaden the disappointment of coming fourth?   Did I really hear them saying "Never again"?

All in all it was a great morning out in Sai Kung and I have the third degree burns on the back of my neck to prove that it was a sunny day. 

Enjoy the photos of Tung Ng.  If you recognize yourself in the photographs I didn’t mean any of those things I said – honest!

Rural Hong Kong

I feel I have to stress to the general population that Hong Kong is not completely covered in concrete blocks, there are not people every where and in fact it is quite green.  In fact I live in quite a rural area.  It is possible to dodge the greedy landlords and get a spacious house with a tremendous view, a garden, four bathrooms and even a spare room with storage space for our bikes, musical instruments that no one plays and roller blades that we have all grown out of. (any reasonable offer accepted)  We found such a place a few years ago and we do enjoy the view tremendously.  But there is a catch.

To enjoy the peace and quiet and low rent plus have lots of space we rent a house with no car access.  That means there is a path to our house but no road and it is a VERY steep walk from the car park at the bottom of the hill.   Usually when we have visitors I have to explain in detail exactly how many steps there are to climb and just how steep it is and sometimes I tie balloons to the railings just to be sure people do make it to the front door.  It is a hard slog up hill.

Delivery men normally get lost and have to be met in the car park then taken up, like a nervous child.  They mutter in Chinese most of the way and when we turn the last corner to face yet another flight of stairs they predictably say 'Waa'  or 'Aiyaah' which are the only Chinese words I understand and are used for exclaiming everything from amazing fireworks to dropping your chopstick.  That is not a euphemism, I do mean accidentally dropping something on the floor.

The photos above show the route from the bottom of the village up the 174 steps to our front door.

The following photos show the alternative route from the top which affords a downhill walk and, therefore, is not so hard and you don't get quite as sweaty plus there is not quite as much dog dirt to dodge on the way.

It keeps me fit.  That is what I tell myself every time I have to face the steps especially if I have been out for the evening and am wearing heels.  I think its worth it for the view.  Have a look for yourselves.

Bus Ride to Guangzhou

As part of a staff development session my school took us all to Guangzhou by bus to visit some schools there.  As most of the information I received about the trip was in Chinese I knew little of where I was going or what I was going to do while I was there.  For me it was a bit like going on a three day mystery tour and I spent my time asking ‘What are doing now?’, ‘How long are we staying here?’ and ‘Are we nearly there yet?’

I observed a lesson which started with soothing music played through the school p.a. system while all the students went through a face massage routine. To ensure they all carried out their routine two prefects went around the room inspecting their peers carefully and reminding the occasional less diligent one how to do it properly.  When the music stopped the prefects yelled at the class “Sit straight” and they all did as they were told in complete, obedient silence. My colleague and translator told me that the massage was for combating eye strain.

Then a lovely Chinese teacher began a 40 minute English lesson to her 42 Year 4 students.  Her lesson could not be faulted in any way.  She had everything a good language teacher should have.  She covered all the skills, had a variation of activities, had their attention and got them responding to all her questions with enthusiasm and more to the point most of the answers were correct.  She had movement and sounds on a power point, she had team games and role play.  It was a fast paced lesson with so much packed in to a simple vocabulary lesson on the theme of farm animals.  The instructions were so fast I couldn’t follow!

Her students were perfectly behaved and the discipline under which they operated made them seem robotic in their actions and responses. 

The bell went and they filed out for play time.  I then met with the teacher to give feedback about her lesson.  I was told she had been teaching English for eleven years but it soon became apparent that she had no idea what I was saying and she could hardly answer any of my questions in English.  Through a translator I was told she had prepared for the observation for three days.  I strongly suspect she had rehearsed the lesson with the kids for the last three days so that they knew exactly what to do and how to respond. 

Interestingly all the teachers I met wore a uniform.  One school had a pale blue matching skirt and blouse the other a black suit and peach blouse, it made them look like they worked in a bank, very corporate. 

The photographs were taken during a flag raising and national anthem singing ceremony which is carried out every Monday but even though it was Friday they did it all again especially for our visit.  I felt like royalty when I was given flowers and the band played a fanfare upon our arrived.

 

Kung Hey Fat Choi

I am very sad.  Tomorrow is the last day of the Chinese New Year holiday.  That means I have to go back to work and don’t get to lie in until Saturday morning.  I suppose it’s about time I just got used to this work routine, after all I am 39 and have worked for a number of years now. 

But isn’t it great having a holiday and pleasing yourself?  Of course there are rules to follow during the Chinese New Year holiday but I think I have failed in this respect.  The Chinese are very superstitious so I have probably brought the wrath of the bad luck gods on my household. 

I did not clean the house before New Years Day (18^th February) and I did not put away all brooms, brushes, dusters, dust pans and other cleaning equipment on New Years Day.

Unbeknown to me I swept in the wrong direction, I should have swept from the door to the middle of the room, another blunder.  Plus I put the dust and rubbish in the bin and then took it out to the skip on the same day; instead I should have kept it in the house for five days until I threw it away and then I should have taken it out the back door and not the front.  It’s a minefield; a mistake can be made at any moment.

On the night of 18^th February I went to bed about 11pm and slept, apart from being disturbed by the banging of loud firecrackers going off in my village.  These are actually illegal in

Hong Kong

but traditionally the noise scares away the bad omens so it has to be done.   Since the real firecrackers have become difficult to get hold of it is now possible to buy a recording of firecrackers.  I hope that the neighbours firecrackers, recordings or the real thing will also work on my house. 

Another pitfall which will jeopardize my good luck in this Year of the Golden Pig, or is it the Fire Pig, I am not too sure, is that I didn’t open all my doors and windows to let the old year out and the new year in. 

It seems that using knives is also a big no no, you’ve guessed it - I did - and, horror of horrors, I washed my hair on that day so I have washed away all my luck for another year. 

But I did one thing right.  I just happen to own a red jacket, although it wasn’t brand new for that day, but I did wear it and red is a lucky colour.  Hooray, I did something for good luck.  Perhaps the Golden Pig will come to my door after all.   

The photograph at the top is a little shrine in my village which was dressed and decorated especially for the holiday.  Have a look at the album of Chinese New Year photographs, all taken in Sai Kung and

Wong

Tai

Sin

Temple, one of them appeared on the BBC News website.

  A wonderful sight. 

More names

I know it’s juvenile but these street signs bring a smirk to my lips every time I see them.  They are actual signs in Sai Kung, the town where I live, here in Honking Konkers.  There are more examples of this and I will get the photographs to prove it very soon.  Fuk Yu Restaurant, Wank Kee Boat Yard, Yuk Kee Food Stories and Man Kee Noodle Shop.  Oh dear I have lived here for six years, you’d think I would have the maturity not to snigger when I see them?

I have to also add more names that were never meant for people as I have been made aware of more now.

Thank you Brian for Miss INNOCENT HORE.  A real person working for Zambian Airways.  This deserves a prize.

More from

Hong Kong

:-

Boss

Spinach

Twinkle

Pretty

Catalyst

Hello possum

Some of my readers have been perturbed by the fact that I mentioned I wore my matching possum wool hat and socks on my trip to Beijing. I have to come clean and say this isn’t a joke. I have blood on my hands! I purchased the items in New Zealand and there was no shortage of possum wool products in the shops. The socks I bought had a label bragging ‘the best socks you’ll ever own’. They were right, they are toastie warm.  But those darling little possums (I feel like Dame Edna Everage) are hated by those kiwi types, in fact, one of their national sports is counting how many dead possums the kids can spot on a long road trip. They cause damage to no end of things so one of the ways to make them useful is to use their fur. Do I feel guilty?

No.

Beijing

At last I made it.  I crossed the border from Honking Honkers into mainland China and landed in Beijing, the capital of the Mother Land.  After listening to many local Hong Kong people bad mouth the mainlanders I was really expecting squalor and degradation not to mention the unmentionable horror that is the public toilets.I was pleasantly surprised.  None of it was true.  Not even a bit.  Beijing has areas with wide French like streets and what’s more they are clean and modern.  In fact, dare I say it, much cleaner than many streets like say Nathan Road or Mong Kok.  There was a much greater incidence of spitting.  Since SARS most people in Hong Kong (not counting the over 90’s) seemed to have got the message that hocking up a greeny in the street is socially unacceptable and it is no longer a common event. 

I have got to admit to only using toilets in restaurants so never actually had direct experience of public toilets.  I am sure that stories about squat toilets are true so gave them a wide berth. I was a looking out for the five million bicycles but was disappointed.  Not that I actually counted them but they were not in great numbers.  The motor car, like every city, is king.  They have modern bendy buses just like Sheffield!   The basic rules of the road don’t seem to have permeated into the psyche of the Beijing population so at my first attempt at crossing the road I almost lost my life as a car ignored the red light and green flashing man meant for fragile pedestrians and carried on his left turn forcing me to leap, Darcey Bussell like, back onto the pavement.  I must be a quick learner as I survived every road navigation after that by keeping in mind that there are no rules and never to trust the traffic lights.  The major difference between Hong Kong and Beijing was the temperature.  We left on Boxing Day enjoying 20C to a shockingly freezing -7C.  By jove I needed my possum wool hat and matching socks previously purchased on our last ski holiday to New Zealand. 

Breathing in the cold air was actually painful on the sinuses,  but you have to breath in!  We spent the days out and about being tourists but stuck to the streets around out hotel in the evenings where we could nip into heated shops.  Once the sun went down it was too much for my poor expatriate whimpish metabolism to stand.  We did all the major tourist things over our three day trip.  Photographs artfully taken by Mr Croft for your enjoyment.  I am standing on a frozen lake at the Summer Palace, that's how cold it was!

Ho Chi Min City

The school holidays have started.  That long stretch of time when families go away and make the most of the long hot days.  The Croft family has uncharacteristically decided to stay at home.  So here we are in a very hot and humid

Hong Kong

.  But at least we have air conditioning.  I sympathize with the British at the moment because I have been watching Sky News via satellite and I know the headline has been  ‘Phew what a scorcher’ for days now.  And I know that no one has air conditioning in their bedrooms! 

Fred and I had a bit of excitement last weekend when we used our dutifully saved Air Miles and went to Ho Chi Min City.  This was a major step for us as we went on our own and left Alex and Lucy at home. 

I have nothing to report about their behaviour when we were away.  Nothing untoward happened.  We may have to try going away on our again very soon.

Ho Chi Min City is the new name for Saigon, capital of

Vietnam

(information for those of you geographically challenged!) ‘Doing’ a city is always tiring although this particular visit was punctuated by visits to the hotel spa.  This is an excellent way to spend a few hours of an afternoon after a busy day of sightseeing and just before indulging ourselves in the delights of Vietnamese food in the evenings.

Vietnamese food has to be the highlight of the trip.  It is fab.   Actually I discovered it while in

Australia

and am especially partial to their fresh rice paper spring rolls with pork and prawn mixed with fresh mint leaves and a few noodles.  These spring rolls are served cold and the rice paper has a wonderful slightly sticky texture.  There is nothing deep fried about them.   The best thing is the peanut satay dip with comes with them.  Am I going on about them too much?  If I had them for every meal from now until I died I would be happy.

We couldn’t visit

Vietnam

without learning about the American War, as it is referred to in those parts.  There is a

War

Remnants

Museum

which we spent quite a few hours walking around in silence and being moved to tears by the disturbing images and details of war.  Any war has got to be disturbing but this was so recent, in our life time, it moved me.  I drew comparisons with what is going on in

Iraq

at the moment.  There is not much difference for the Americans who send their young soldiers to a place where they probably hadn’t heard of before and give them instructions to fight the enemy, but the vagueness about who the enemy is and why they are fighting them remains a grey area. 

We visited the Cu Chi Tunnels which are a few kilometers outside of Ho Chi Min City.  This is a network of underground tunnels used be the Viet Cong in the 60’s to hide from the Americans.  They were previously used to hide from the French.  In a bizarre but interesting way this site in the jungle is now a tourist attraction where we were given a tour which included an American tank in the jungle which had been ambushed by the Viet Cong and all four solders killed plus an opportunity to fire a gun in a shooting range.  The main point in going was to learn about the tunnels and actually go inside them. 

The original tunnels are tiny, as are Vietnamese people, so the accessible 90m has been widened to accommodate huge westerners.  I got inside the very narrow, extremely low pitch black tunnel and took two steps.  Then I turned back.  But Fred was behind me and there were 20 people behind him.  I had to continue.  It was truly horrible.  Bent double in the heat and dark not knowing when the light would come again.  I managed a pathetic 15m which was the first opportunity of coming up to ground level again.    The 20 people behind me all kept going for 90m making me feel inadequate for tunnel warfare!

The hotel spa at the time seemed like a good idea however upon returning home I came out in what I can only describe as a shavers rash all over my arms and legs and can only put this down to the exfoliating treatment they rubbed on said arms and legs.  Whatever they used, and it could have been ground up salt and vinegar crisps for all I know, I reacted badly to it.  It’s over a week since we returned, the rash has almost faded!