Snakes, Monkeys and Jungle

A walk in the New Territories on Sunday threw up a number of surprises. Not far into the first hill climb, we came across a small group of people dressed head to foot in camouflage and carrying cameras on long tripods with huge lenses. Weirdos, we all thought, what on earth could be so exciting in a Hong Kong country park? They seemed to be pointing their cameras at a big tree root. Nature weirdos, obviously. And then we got a bit closer and saw that the object of their zoom lenses was not a tree root at all. No, it was a huge python, stretched across the path, with its head hidden in the bushes. One of the camo group reckoned it was 20 foot long. It had clearly eaten something rather large as it was incredibly fat, which would also explain it being slap bang in the middle of the path, exposed to people and animals that it would ordinarily hide from. Perhaps it had just eaten a small Chinese family. We were on the Family Trail after all.

The giant python wasn't the only wildlife we saw that day. We were walking along a narrow path, high up in the forest, when we heard what sounded like the snort of a boar, followed by a sort of barking. Worried that we might be approaching a pack of wild dogs, we pulled out a walking stick from the backpack and prepared to fight off some snarling canines. When I say 'we' I of course mean The Father and The Husband. I was crouched behind both of their backs. It was only as they were prepared to fight (and I to flee) that The Husband spotted something in the trees. "They're just monkeys!" he laughed. Panic over. A family of monkeys had become separated by the path and they were warning each other of the impending footsteps of The Humans.

The other form of wildlife came in the form of two very strange Chinese men who, judging by their hairstyles, seemed think that it was still the sixties. We actually heard them before we saw them as they were blasting out some terrible song from their mobile phone, held high for maximum volume. They obviously didn't treasure the quiet of the hills we were walking and felt that the howling and shrieking of Canto Pop was more to their liking.

We passed through bamboo forests and thick jungle before finally reaching the car and turkey sandwiches.

"Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time"

So Christmas is over for another year and, despite various illnesses in the household, it was a good one. It began on the morning of Christmas Eve with some kitchen prep. The Mother made the honey-roasted, clove-studded ham, prepared the vegetables and made one of the stuffings and I made the chestnut stuffing and prepped the bread sauce. All to some cracking Christmas music and wearing a gold sequined apron, of course. The Husband and I then walked over to Knutsford Terrace, a row of al fresco bars and restaurants in Tsim Sha Tsui, for the traditional lunch with my lifelong childhood friend Jen and her fiance Adam. Good food, good drink, good company and lots of early present-unwrapping ensued. We then trekked through the seething mass of people on the very busy shopping streets of Tsim Sha Tsui to take the MTR (Hong Kong's far cleaner, cheaper and more reliable version of the London Underground) to Central, where we were due to meet The Parents at church. Arriving earlier than expected, we decided to go for a little Christmas drinky and chose the rooftop bar in Prince's Building, where we sipped a crisp New Zealand white wine and a mojito whilst looking out over the harbour and across the skyscrapers of Central.

At the designated time we walked up Battery Path to St. John's Cathedral where the Christingle service we go to every year in Hong Kong was being held. Half an hour before it was due to start it was already full to the rafters, so much so they had even set up a big screen outside with a live feed to broadcast the service to people outside. It was a beautiful sight when the lights were dimmed and the cathedral was lit with the candles held by the congregation, accompanied by the sound of carols being sung.

After the service we hopped on the Star Ferry across to Kowloon and gazed at all the Christmas lights on the sides of the skyscrapers, before elbowing our way through the crowds on Canton Road to reach Civic Square, the cluster of bars and restaurants underneath the complex of apartment buildings in which The Parents live. A couple of lychee martinees later and we went up to the flat to prepare a simple dinner of parsnip and pancetta pasta, eaten in front of The Snowman. An early bed (in order to be asleep by the time Father Christmas arrives with his sack full of pressies) meant that we were up earlyish in the morning, bounding into the living room to see whether the big man himself had been. Bulging sackfuls on the sofas confirmed that he had indeed visited and we got down to the important task of delving into the stockings and pillowcases to discover what he had brought us. Half an hour later, we were still pulling presents out. We must have been very good this year.

A breakfast of ham and hot buttered toast, washed down with Buck's Fizz, was next on the cards, followed by the overseas phone calls to family members in Australia.Then came further present opening and before we knew it, it was time to prepare the lunch which, in our family, is just nibbly bits - smoked salmon on triangles of bread, sausage rolls, a selection of cheese, salmon filo pastry parcels - as we have our main Christmas dinner in the evening. After lunch, we walked around the harbour front to work up an appetite for the feast to come, before opening more presents and playing a fiercely competitive game of Cranium. I managed to draw the short straw and had The Father on my team. He had absolutely no idea what was going out throughout the game and at one point drew the name of the category rather than the thing he was actually supposed to draw. I suppose something like that has always got to happen on Christmas day.

We dressed up for the evening and emerged in our finest, ready to quaff some more Champers before the gargantuan feast that is our Christmas dinner. We had a traditional turkey with all the trimmings, followed by Christmas pudding and mince pies, all made by The Mother. It was all delicious but we soon fell into that coma-like state that always occurs post-Christmas dinner. Time for bed.

Snot and Shopping

I feel like my eyes are on fire and I can't stop rubbing them. My nose is running so much I barely have enough time to reach for another tissue after I've thrown the other one away. The bin beside me is full to the brim with tissues. I sneezed so loud at one point today that I actually made The Mother jump. I have come down with the mother of all colds and I am suffering. The combination of flying, the difference in temperature between here and Pattaya and the fact that The Brother only rid himself of a cold a couple of days ago has cruelly resulted in a very ill Expat Wife. Just in time for Christmas. The last time we were in Hong Kong for Christmas, The Husband had a fever of 104 degrees C so I suppose it was my turn.

Yesterday was a bit of a wipe-out because of the cold, though I did manage to meet up with The Brother for lunch and then The Mother to walk around the flower market, which was full of festive arrangements and smelt wonderfully Christmassy. This morning we did the disgustingly huge Christmas food shop. Well, The Mother did most of the actual shopping, I mainly I followed her around with the trolly, sneezing and coughing and whimpering slightly. It was no mean feat though - looking at the trolly one would have thought that we were preparing to feed the 5,000. That thing was heavy. When we at last reached the till, the tiny Chinese shop assistants watched the endless line of items in total shock. It's a good thing they didn't know it was to feed and water five adults over the course of just one day or they'd have had heart attacks!

Abandoned WWII Tunnels and Some Rather Bad Skating

Woke to a beautiful day yesterday. Still chilly but with glorious sunshine to warm the cockles. Perfect weather for a hike, and so that is just what we did. After a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs with mushrooms on thick buttered toast, we jumped in the car and sped off (well, as much as it is possible to speed in a city of traffic jams!) towards Shing Mun Reservoir at the base of Tai Mo Shan, Hong Kong's tallest peak. We parked up by the calm waters of the reservoir and, dodging the cheeky wild macaques that pepper the area, stealing food from picnics and BBQs, we started to climb up to Smugglers' Ridge. It was a tough climb but we were rewarded with some beautiful views - the tall residential and commercial buildings of Kwai Chung, the long stretch of Ting Kao Bridge, and the distant peaks of Lantau Island on one side, two reservoirs and the verdant hillsides of various mountains on the other.

By far the most interesting part of the hike however, was revealed to us via signs warning, "Danger. Desolate Trench. Do not enter." Everyone knows that best things always have warning signs, so on we trudged past the signs, and came across the remains of Shing Mun Redoubt, a series of underground bunkers and pillboxes connected by cement passageways that formed the key part of the Gin Drinker's Line, an 18km-long string of defense positions along the hill separating Kowloon from the New Territories. The tunnels had been named after famous London locations by homesick soldiers, and we saw the inscriptions 'Shaftesbury Avenue', 'Regent Street', Piccadilly', and 'Charing Cross', and explored the main command post of the redoubt, 'Strand Palace Hotel'.

We walked along some of the tunnels, keeping a wary eye out for snakes and spiders, and imagined what it must have been like for the poor British soldiers, knowing an attack by the Japanese was imminent. Many of them died down there in those trenches. In one of the tunnels, the victorious Japanese attackers carved characters in the wall. They translated as, 'Captured by the Wakabayashi Brigade'.

After such an educational afternoon, The Brother and I decided to do something festive, and went to the ice rink in the shopping centre below The Parents' apartment. It was slightly embarrassing to begin with as I hobbled along the perimeter, clutching the side for dear life, especially as there were several young children pirouetting around me. As much as I wanted to, I shunned the plastic penguins you could hire to hold onto, their purpose akin to a kickboard in a swimming pool. Nobody over the age of five was using them so I tried to be brave and skate unaided. I was just about getting the hang of it, skating on my own, away from the side, when a whistle was blown and everybody cleared the rink for an ice hockey game. Oh well, there's plenty more time for skating. I'm sure the Husband will want to show off his prowess on the rink when he arrives.

Game, Set, and Match

And so the family tennis has begun in earnest. The four of us played for over two hours yesterday on the courts of the KCC. I can't lie to you and say it didn't get ugly at times - The Brother hitting me with the ball, me accusing him of deliberately targeting me, the inevitable dubious line calls and the arguments that arise from that - but all the best tennis is intense! The Husband was very upset that we all played without him (and were therefore getting extra practice in) and has swiftly booked a lesson for this morning. He seems to think that after a lesson or two he will play like Davydenko, who we've recently been watching play a court away from us at our club in Pattaya. I haven't the heart to tell him that it will probably take a bit more than that.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas...

Things are getting very festive around here. Thursday night saw us raising our voices at the KCC Christmas Carol night, mulled wine in hand. We sang 'till our voices were hoarse, then refuelled with thick slices of ham, an assortment of cheeses, and mince pies. Only one complaint, and I'm going to sound a right Scrooge now. I know that Christmas is supposed to be a time for children, blah, blah, blah, but there was a gaggle of about ten small kids who kept screeching into the microphone. They were loud. And high-pitched. My ears are still ringing. Parenting rule number 1: keep small children away from microphones and loudspeakers at all costs.

Yesterday was yet another marathon Christmas shopping spree but I have finally finished. Cause for great celebration indeed, so The Mother and I went to Harvey Nics for a glass of Champers. Heaven. Then it was time to race back to the flat to beautify ourselves before going out for a lovely meal in belated celebration of The Mother's birthday. The food was delicious but, in true Hong Kong style, the air conditioner was jacked up to the max, despite it being 12 degrees C outside. As we were leaving, we clocked a woman wearing a huge fur coat whilst eating her dinner! How the staff could have failed to notice that, I don't know.

Baby, It's Cold Out There

It is cold. It is very cold. Thailand, what have you done to me?? I am sitting here in thick socks, joggers, a big jumper and a fluffy dressing gown. It is 15 degrees C. In England this would be considered mild. Of course, 15 degrees C does feel colder in Hong Kong as buildings here aren't built for the cold, they're designed to keep their occupants cool in the heat and humidity that grips the city for most of the year. Last night I was esconced in two duvets as a portable heater blew warm air over me. Oh, and I slept in my socks, something I normally only ever do in the depths of winter in the UK. I'm actually getting slightly concerned about how I willl fair when we do return to England, especiually as it is likely to be winter. It will not be pretty. I imagine our heating bill will be through the roof!

For now, I am indebted to portable heaters, slipper socks and hot Shreddies. I find mulled wine normally helps too.