Life in Asia! The Epilogue - Part 1

Singapore - a clean, safe and good place to live

Blimey I am that old I can remember the epilogue on television. It was broadcast at the end of the day's programmes. Well I think I will have a few epilogues to wind up the Life in Asia. Can you do that? Have a series of epilogues that is. Or is an epilogue supposed to be a final single closing? That is the good thing about blogging; you can write the rules as you go along.

Anyway, Life in Asia! The Epilogue - Part 1.

Starting in Singapore I set out on a journey through my work, but at the same time be closer to Khamma in Thailand. I enjoyed Singapore immensely and if I had to chose between Hong Kong and Singapore to live, I would choose Singapore. It is a country dominated by the rules and regulations of a single man, Mr Lee Kwan Yew. Singaporeans feel safe in a society that is proud of its status. If you are a Singaporean you are looked after from cradle to grave. The only thing you have to do is toe the line. Step over that line and you face the wrath of the big machine of law and order. Of course the reality is different and most people do what they want to do and make sure they don't get caught. I like that. There is an image of subterfuge as citizens, and visitors, dart about in dimly lit streets, getting away with things that wouldn't deserve a second glance anywhere else in the world. Just underneath the surface you can find shady deals, black money and most other normal things.

But the Singaporeans don't have to think too much because Mr Lee's machine is doing it for them, and sometimes this overflows into the work place or public domain. You can see the blank look of panic at not knowing what to do, say or otherwise react to simple situations like should I turn left or right, should I say yes or no, or should I stay or should I go? That is a little bit simplified, but it seems sometimes to get an answer to a question it had to go up the chain of command until it reached somebody with enough rank, or guts, to speak his mind. I still have many outstanding unanswered emails sent to people who think it should be answered by somebody else.

Singapore is clean, safe and easy to get around. I had a great place to live at Bayshore Park and the airport is the best in the world, bar none! The climate is constantly hot and humid all the year round which does restrict some activities like jogging and cycling, but once I got used to it I found it was good.

The main problem for me in Singapore was the relative lack of scenery and things to do outdoors. Some people will disagree but compared to other places there are no mountains, or even hills, no dramatic coastlines and nothing much over a hundred years old. Yes, I did find things to do and see, but it usually started and ended in a shopping mall or a new housing estate.

Hong Kong is different again. Here people are not cossetted. You will see beggars on the street and raggy arsed kids running about. Here you will see harsh living conditions and it is common for three generations of family to be living together in a cramped apartment, sharing a kitchen and queuing for the bathroom with three or four other families on the same floor of the forty story building. But the Hong Kong people have fight in them. They have to fight to survive, and fight harder to get ahead!

I found that Hong Kong people will be as evasive as their cousins in Singapore, but instead of going away and asking somebody else, they will figure out how they can get an advantage and go and do something about it, without letting you know, so they have the upper ground. This difference in approach comes from years of practice under British rule, and dodging the Chinese communists at the same time. Singapore as we know it today, is only a little over forty years old, but Hong Kong's culture and tradition goes back much further.

Hong Kong - has that mystery under the surface

Today the average Hong Konger has a superiority that is borne from the release of British control with the considerable amount of latitude provided by the Central Office in Beijing. It feels like China, but it isn't China. I don't think Hong Kong is the China that Beijing aspires to, but it certainly is the image that the Central Office wants to provide to the rest of the world. As a result the Hong Konger feels he can do know no wrong. They get away with far too much!

The city has an excitement and there is so much more under the surface than in Singapore. The guide books only give you a hint of what lies waiting to be discovered in places like Kowloon. The triads still run this place and I do not know how the society can co exist with its own legislature, police force and direct line to Beijing. Who knows who is controlling what, where and when! The amount of black money lining the economy is beyond imagination. It pays to be well connected in Hong Kong. Fascinating.

Just across the border is Shenzhen, which is real China. Here you will find more people almost staring through the glass at Hong Kong wondering what opportunity lies ahead. It is much cheaper here and open for the counterfeit goods and copies of watches, bags, designer clothes, DVDs, perfume. There is even a huge store made up of small individually run stalls selling everything from cameras and computers to ladies make up and shoes, all western brands all a fraction of the cost in west. Behind all this there is even more humanity another fascinating area to wander and observe. The flats with thousands of people co-existing sometimes sleeping four to a bed. This arrangement is possible by sleeping sideways on the bed with a chair to prop up your legs.

Shenzhan - the emerging China

Shanghai is where you really see the difference. From a work point of view I found it gets more difficult the further north you travel in Asia. I have experienced the legendary frustration of working in Thailand, but in north China it isn't just frustrating, it is 'stone walled'.

Shanghai - light at the end of the tunnel?

Chinese people go through the state education system being taught the usual things like maths, language and reading but they are not taught to understand things. You will see in Chinese schools a discipline that begins with early morning exercises carried out uni-formally in the school yard to the accompaniment of the national anthem. You will see disciplined lines of children in the classroom and neat and clean uniforms. But there is no 'thinking outside the box'. They are taught what they need to know and not how to search around to enrich and expand thinking and free thought. Consequently there are issue when these kids start work and see a middle aged English bloke wanting to change the way things are done. I heard one story of a girl about 16 or 17 at work in one of the restaurants in Shanghai airport and she was asked to mop the floor. This is a perfectly normal request but she refused because she had never in her life mopped a floor. This was not her job in the family home and she could not understand why she was being asked to do it now. She did of course eventually begin, but she was crying and so upset about losing face.

So in conclusion I prefer to live in Singapore, feel the excitement of Hong Kong, revel in wandering around Shenzhan, and I am not sure about Shanghai.

Thats it then!

My time is up! Life in Asia has come to an end, or rather, let's say one chapter is ending and another will open; in England.

The project I am (was!) working on in Hong Kong airport has been suspended. I could write a new blog on the politics and situations I have found myself in, but it isn't my style. We decided last week to call a halt to further work and take another review in the autumn. It is too early to say when and if it will re-start.

So in mid June my life returns to Diggle and I will be UK based for a few months. In truth I was becoming a little disillusioned with working in Hong Kong and I was becoming increasingly unhappy being so far away from family and friends in England and Thailand. I hope I have portrayed a positive image of Hong Kong because it is fun to wander around and become immersed in the culture. I will miss this and I bet I will be aching to get back after a few weeks in England. But it is the right thing to do, and to a large extent it has been decided for me.

It has been a privilege being able to work in new cultures and I would not have changed a thing. Khamma and I have grown closer together, and because I have lived apart from my family and friends in England for so long, I feel I have grown closer to them also. As my Dad says, 'I can hear the pumps squeaking', which is his reference to pulling a pint. I look forward to that too!

I not sure my boss reads this blog. I suspect he does but he never says. I never ask. But thank you Matthew for giving me this opportunity.

Khamma and I believe in fate and as we enter a new scenario that is far from ideal, we believe I will be happier in England and we can sort ourselves out in time to come. In fact Khamma is applying for another six month visa and I have already booked a ticket for her to come over to Diggle at the end of July. We will decide the next steps later.

In a couple of weeks I will close the blog, but there are some topics I want to blog on before then. I have been thinking about writing a book, but I keep losing the plot.

Have a Nice Day!!!!!!

Today I decided to stroll on the Gold Coast beach. This is a piece of artificial beach created some years ago when the Gold Coast apartments and hotel complex was constructed. It is a welcome addition to the coast line around Hong Kong, which already has some excellent beaches and rocky coves and outcrops interspersed between scruffy industrialised premises and dock yards which are typically neglected and possibly contributing to a toxic coastline.

But on this hot sunny Sunday I don't want to be pessimistic. So I joined the crowds who don't want to fight in the shopping malls and markets, and instead prefer the freedom of the great outdoors at the Gold Coast where you can soak up as many ultra violet rays as you dare and have a great time having fun with the family. What better way to spend a Sunday afternoon knowing you are free from inhibitions and free from work and free from the stresses and strains of living six people to room in a dark apartment on the thirty ninth floor in Mong Kok. Free that is until you arrive at the Gold Coast beach.

This is the first sign inviting you to park your car, if you have one, in the right place.

The Gold Coast beach is owned by the Sino Corporation and due to either the health and safety regulations imposed by the local Hong Kong authorities, a sense of corporate responsibility, or Central Government wanting to make sure every knows what the score is; there is a collection of simple rules strictly imposed on to the public.

Having successfully found a parking spot you stroll expectantly down to the beach entrance. If you arrived by bike you are about to encounter your first problem. If you have a dog and it is couped up all day on the thirty ninth floor and is desperate for a walk, you also have a problem. If you are on your bike and have the dog as well, there are two problems and one solution; go home!

However, should you be without bike and dog there is a helpful plan of the beach area on the next notice board.

But please note: No Smoking. That is generally a good thing and pretty difficult to do when you are surfing, water skiing or diving, but you not allowed to do these things anyway, so that saves you the bother. Actually if you do go in the water beware of jelly fish and submerged rocks. Even if you don't want to go into the water and fancy a spot of fishing, you are advised to think again and leave the tackle at home. Finally just to remind you again in case you didn't see the one metre by three metre poster when you first arrived, that you cannot bring the dog, ride your bike and whilst we about it, don't even think about a skateboard. In addition you are told not to feed pigeons or wild birds because this causes dirtiness to public areas. But if a bird accidentally craps on you then you are asked to wash your hands. Presumably this is common sense to avoid bird flu. Whilst we are about it, yes there are signs posted about pig flu as well. Incidentally if you want to complain about these excessive rules you are invited to telephone the hot line. I can only imagine the reply you will get from the frumpy old Chinese 'jobs worth' at the other end.

Well ok, so far so good. I don't want to surf and all those things. I haven't got a bike or a dog, I don't smoke and the birds seem to fly away from me. I don't want to swim so the jelly fish will stay hungry.

The next notice board is actually by the sand;

From top left anti clockwise; no digging for clams. Keep away from the shark prevention net and swim within the booms. Toilet and shower directions to the left, and, finally, just in case you brought along some activities you are reminded; no kite flying, no kicking of balls (presumably football), no playing with remote cars or boats. Just a gentle reminder in case you have forgotten - no dogs but now it is extended to no animals at all, presumably to prevent the spread of pig flu! No fishing, and 'we don't care how many times we have to tell you' but there are no bikes and no skateboards. Get the message? Understand? NO? Really? Well read on Mr Numpty and take note. AGAIN!

We said NO DOGS! NO BIKES! NO SKATEBOARDS! Understand?

We are good people who like you to have a good time, but listen up:

NO LYING ON BENCHES, DON'T DRY WET CLOTHES, DON'T DROP LITTER AND IF YOU DO SEE ANY PLANTS TRYING TO SURVIVE IN THE STERILE ENVIRONMENT WE HAVE LOVING CREATED AND STRIVE TO RETAIN - LEAVE THEM ALONE.

One final message to the exasperated - DON'T SPIT even in disgust!

I am getting exasperated. All I want to do is walk on the beach but I am feeling intimidated especially as there are security patrol guards and life guards watching every move of every body. They are ready to pounce at the slightest indiscretion. But that isn't enough for the Sino Corporation; they have a public address system through which a waxy American female voice welcomes 'our valued guests to the Gold Coast beach', but then goes on to repeat the warning messages for the benefit of those people who can't read. Thoughtful!

Luckily they have directions to the toilet but just in case you think otherwise here are the warnings:

I am happy they thought of these eventualities and possibilities.

Still undaunted and perhaps against my rebellious nature (but nonetheless feeling wound up and starting to resort to venting my anti establishment feelings) I ran the gauntlet and walked along the pathway to the far end of the beach. I found more thoughtful advice;

I was now drained and defeated. This was not the simple walk of freedom I had set out to enjoy. I was trapped by unfounded corporate responsibility which was hell bent in denying me of my rights to go out and enjoy a good walk. What is there left to do on the Gold Coast beach?

Enjoy the sun, of course. But don't stay out too long or you will get dehydrated, your skin will shrivel and you get skin cancer. 'Go home and write a blog', the voice in my head started shout at me. Good idea.

City of Darkness

The Walled City Park - a beautiful oasis in Kowloon

On an overcast Sunday morning during Khamma's last visit to Hong Kong we were wondering how to make the most of a dull day. In the Lonely Planet guide to Hong Kong there is short unassuming reference to a place called 'Kowloon Walled City Park'. It describes a park on the former site of a piece of land that during British rule of Hong Kong fell between the cracks in the diplomatic corridors of power. This land was not included in the 1898 lease agreement between Britain and China and therefore technically was not subject to British law and governance. Equally it was a bit of a thorn in the side of China who had more important priorities to manage. Consequently it became 'no man's land'.

The area of land covers 6 1/2 acres which is roughly 100 metres by 200 metres. It is located almost next to the old airport at Kai Tak. I never had the chance to use this airport but several friends tell me how amazing it was to land there. The runway was in the middle of the Kowloon residential area and on landing you could see inside the rooms of houses lining the airport perimter and see what people were doing, it was that close.

Historically the land was strategic in the defense of Hong Kong because of its proximity to the sea and adjacent to Hong Kong harbour. After the British occupied Hong Kong in 1841, the Chinese realised the importance of maintaining a garrison there and transferred the local administration to the fort and buildings occupying the surrounding rea. By 1847 an impressive wall surrounded the fort and government buildings and a 'visible and psychological symbol of Imperial control' was established.

Before long the area immediately outside the walls degenerated into a squatter's slums. It was described in the Hongkong Telegraph of the day as a 'wretched agglomeration of Chinese hovels'. It was a breeding ground in the pursuit of iniquity and opium dens, brothels and gambling houses all prospered, much to the outrage of the local authorities. It was about this time the British negotiated the lease to govern Hong Kong and the Chinese saw this as a convenient 'get out' in their efforts to establish law and order in this 'festering sore' of Kowloon City. However the Chinese did not want to lose face by deserting the city, their belief being that the Emperor would not be able to enter the royal temple and face his ancestors' spirits.

Therefore the Chinese, whilst wanting to relinquish control over this small area, found they were unable to. The British, in their Colonial wisdom, thought that there would be little consequence if the Chinese remained in the city, at least for a few years. The diplomats tussled with the wording about what to do with the city and eventually reached an agreement, but reality was that both sides were happy to leave the place alone, and as time moved on the city became desolate and administratively isolated. Forgotten by the authorities, but an increasing problem to the Hong Kong authorities and population.

The walled city became a curiosity for local Hong Kong people as more squatters started to set up homes in an unorganised, unplanned haphazard free for all. Eventually the Hong Kong authority decided to resolve the issue by developing the land in an attempt to wrest control and bring it line with the more strategic commercial developments arising in the adjacent area. By 1940 progress was being made and the area was on the point of being totally cleared, but World War II brought an abrupt end to their ambitions.

The Japanese arrived and promptly demolished the impressive wall, the last remaining relic of the city. Today it can be found underneath the runway of the old airport!

Today the old airport is in ruin

After the war the Chinese authorities announced their intention to reclaim jurisdiction. But post war Chinese refugees started to arrive and occupied the grounds deserted through the warfare. Confusion returned about who controlled what. The squatters were escaping the harsh conditions of China's agricultural conditions and saw Hong Kong as a chance to improve their lives.

In early 1950's the situation was spiraling totally out of control, but still the Chinese and British governments could not reach agreement. The Hong Kong government meanwhile decide to evict the refugees, but this ended in a bloody riot with the diplomatic and political effects being felt as far away as Shanghai.

The city grows out of control

Inevitably the problem was put to one side and the politicians tried to forget it existed, once again. The Hong Kong authority was powerless and decided their only course of action was to see what would happen by leaving the area to its own volition. The result was predictable and the city rapidly became a 'cesspool of iniquity, with heroin divans, brothels and everything unsavoury'.

By the 1960's the city was a firm stronghold for criminals and illegal drug dealing, particularly opium and heroin was controlled by the ruthless triad gangs, notably 14K. Through several land mark court cases, where attempts were made to exert justice under British law, it was established that there was no legal jurisdiction over the area. Many of the inhabitants enjoyed total freedom and no fear of arrest for whatever crime they committed, whether it was murder or protection rackets.


Drug use was rife and there are many reports of the bodies of addicts being tossed onto the Hong Kong streets for the authorities to dispose. Gang disputes over drugs led to brutal fights and death resulted in a perpetual of cycle of violence. Inside the city, plagues of rats prospered in the untreated rubbish of the squats, and the sewage disposal can only be imagined. Water was difficult to find and polluted once located, and electricity was non existent.

By 1971 there were 10,000 occupants in 2,185 dwellings, but the numbers continued to grow and by 1980 35,000 inhabitants were estimated to living in the confines of Kowloon's notorious estate. However, not all the residents were criminals and gradually a sense of order, through self regulation, started to prosper. With the authorities powerless to do anything other than offer advice they turned a blind eye to the regulations the rest of Hong Kong had to follow, and family businesses evolved and began to prosper. Doctors and dentists, who could not afford the license fees in Hong Kong, set up surgeries and consulting rooms. Shops and factories from engineering to watch strap manufacturers became established despite the absence of basic facilities like electricity. The resourcefulness of the residents knew no boundaries with their backgrounds from the villages and harsh conditions they had left in China, and the family commitment to work hard and make money.

Public health was an issue but the Hong Kong authorities dealt with collecting rubbish if it was thrown on the street, they treated the water pumped up from the wells with chlorine and they collected the sewage which was left on the streets each morning. Everyone was anxious that serious diseases should be contained, and if the Hong Kong authority were powerless to enforce they at least adapted to notification and education. The heavy hand of the health regulations was felt elsewhere, which did lead to some resentment from the majority of law abiding residents in the rest of the island.

During the 1970's the second and third generation of residents began to react and a concern for improved conditions was evident. Although crime within the city was high enough it was, generally, directed at people outside the city walls. The triads had taken control of water supply and they introduced electricity by tapping into the general supply outside the city. But the younger generation were determined to make a change and ever so slowly the associations of residents became recognised and politically they made a difference.


By the 1980's the triads no longer had the same control, crime was manageable and for the first time street lights were installed. Light in the City of Darkness. High profile politicians made visits to the city and there was a sense that change was about to take place. The Chinese declared that economic development had to take precedent over defending the territory with military might. Then suddenly on 14 January 1987 it was announced the city was to be demolished, compensate eligible residents and a park would be built.

A solution to problem of Kowloon City had been found.

I became fascinated with the history of city. When we arrived at the park we found very little reference to the conditions in the city until we arrived at the old Yamen which used to be an old people's home. A small, understated exhibition of conditions in the city is displayed, but there was such a powerful effect on me I instantly became enthralled and eager to know more.

A search on the Internet reveals several references to the Walled City and most of them come across as a no go area, where foreigners would not be welcomed, where life was cheap and law and order non existent.

However there is a gem amongst all the references on Google. It is Ian Lambot and Greg Girard's magnificent book called the 'City of Darkness' - Life in Kowloon Walled City. This book has excellent photographs and commentary from residents of the city in the three or four years before the city was demolished. The quality is excellent and it is now in my library of prized books.

Through the pictures and commentary I have started to learn about this unique place where the residents could live in a 'harmonious state of anarchy'. From the early 1950's the city developed without plans, without regulations, without central or local government. A unique urban society with a population reaching 35,000 at its peak, although official records were never kept. It was, at this time, the most densely populated place on earth, with almost one person occupying one square yard!

I hope over the next few weeks to bring out some of atmosphere I found on that dull day in Kowloon City. The life in the past, the park today and some areas still remaining in Hong Kong that have retained the magnificence that was once the Walled City.

I have been in contact with Iam Lambot, one of the authors of the City of Darkness, and he has very kindly given me permission to reproduce some of his photographs. I cannot do justice to the art work he created during his labour of love, but I have selected some photographs that depict this fascinating place. I thoroughly recommend this book which is available from Watermark Publications and is in its seventh reprint. Thanks Ian for your permission and for having the foresight to make this remarkable record of life in the city.

In contrast to Ian's book is an account written by Jackie Pullinger who was a British missionary in the City during the height of the opium era. Her personal story describes a terrible scene of triad gangs and violence amongst addicts where death seemed to be the easiest way out. She treated many of hardest addicts through Christianity and a Baptism to the Holy Spirit, using her faith in God, and God's faith in her, as her only defense between her and some of the most brutal people on earth.

Yesterday, as I sat in the gardens of the of the City of Darkness, I was watching birds catching flies over the lily pond. A more tranquil scene could not be found in Hong Kong, but my imagination was trying to think just how harsh life could have been for some, but how so many more were reluctant to leave.

Respect

Every so often something happens that make me stop in my tracks, or rather my thoughts, and realise the world doesn't spin around me and Thamuang. Recently my daughter Clare announced she was running the Manchester 10k, this pleased me greatly and in fact inspired me to get out and start running again. Clare is still on target for the race and I am impressed at her tenacity, hopefully she will continue her campaign and go on running for many years to come. But last night I received an email from my Mum and suddenly understood how important certain beliefs are to her and my Dad.

Let me briefly explain. My Dad was a soldier in World War II, a proud private in the Black Watch, and saw a great deal of action and fighting on the front lines in France, Belgium and finally in the big push across the Rhine into Germany. Since retiring from work, over twenty years ago, he and Mum have been very active members of the British Legion and the Normandy Veterans Association. Sadly although they both sat on the committee of Poynton branch of the Legion, they decided to resign, along with other stalwarts, in protest to activities of club committee. Recently the NVA was disbanded because unfortunately the number of veterans is reducing. Through both these ex military associations they have formed lasting friendships and almost all of their social life has been centred on one or the other groups. My Dad is a very fit 84 year old. He is still active in the garden and helps our more doddery relations by ferrying them around in his car. But his enthusiasm as the NVA colour escort with his friend and fellow Black Watch veteran Ben, has over the years, helped him maintain an active interest and, indirectly, kept the remembrance of the War alive in our thoughts. He has visited schools as guest of honour and talked to children about the war, he has been awarded more medals than he can wear at one time and has visited Normandy on or around D Day for the last fourteen years, visiting different memorials to pay respect to his comrades.

My Mum hasn't exactly tagged along on these visits. She enjoys the administration and organising within the groups and of course has many good friends as well. Her memory of the War is not as vivid as Dad's, but she was brought up in a time of uncertainty and was surrounded by sad news of neighbours being killed in action. She remembers the blitz years and her older sisters working in the munitions factory. Nowadays she is a silver surfer and keeps in touch with friends and family through email. You can tell she is becoming more addicted when she starts complaining about her new BT hub and the wireless dropping out every two minutes. (It is sorted out now - thanks Clare).

It isn't easy for them to give up their social life because of the demise of the associations and they are very much looking forward to going to Normandy in June for the fifteenth year in succession. They are going as a small group of the former Stockport branch of the NVA, which has continued to meet as an unofficial group for the last year.

But their interest does not diminish and through her email network she forwarded this email yesterday. I had no idea what it was about until the end. I then realised how much respect they have for others, and how much respect others have for them. It reaffirmed to me how much love and respect I have for them.

Last week I was in West London attending a conference. While I was in the airport, returning home, I heard several people behind me beginning to clap and cheer. I immediately turned around and witnessed one of the greatest acts of patriotism I have ever seen.

Moving through the terminal was a group of soldiers in their uniforms, as they began heading to their gate everyone (well almost everyone) was abruptly to their feet with their hands waving and cheering. When I saw the soldiers, probably 30-40 of them, being applauded and cheered for, it hit me. I'm not alone. I'm not the only red blooded Briton who still loves this country and supports our troops and their families. Of course I immediately stopped and began clapping for these young unsung heroes who are putting their lives on the line everyday for us so we can go to school, work, and enjoy our home without fear or reprisal.

Just when I thought I could not be more proud of my country or of our service men and women a young girl, not more than 6 or 7 years old, ran up to one of the male soldiers. He knelt down and said 'hi,' the little girl then asked him if he would give something to her daddy from her. The young soldier didn't look any older than maybe 22 himself, said he would try and what did she want to give to her daddy. Suddenly the little girl grabbed the neck of this soldier, gave him the biggest hug she could muster and then kissed him on the cheek. The mother of the little girl, who said her daughters name was Courtney, told the young soldier that her husband was a Corporal and had been in Afghanistan for 5 months now. As the mum was explaining how much her daughter, Courtney, missed her father, the young soldier began to tear up.

When this temporarily single mum was done explaining her situation, all of the soldiers huddled together for a brief second. Then one of the other servicemen pulled out a military looking walkie-talkie. They started playing with the device and talking back and forth on it. After about 10-15 seconds of this, the young soldier walked back over to Courtney, bent down and said this to her, 'I spoke to your daddy and he told me to give this to you.' He then hugged this little girl that he had just met and gave her a Kiss on the cheek. He finished by saying 'Your daddy told me to tell you that he loves you more than anything and he is coming home very soon.'

The mum at this point was crying almost uncontrollably and as the young soldier stood to his feet he saluted Courtney and her mum. I was standing no more than 6 feet away as this entire event unfolded. As the soldiers began to leave, heading towards their gate, people resumed their applause. As I stood there applauding and looked around, there were very few dry eyes, including my own. That young soldier, in one last moment, turned around and blew a kiss to Courtney with a tear rolling down his cheek.

We need to remember everyday all of our soldiers and their families and thank God for them and their sacrifices. At the end of the day, it's good to be British.

RED FRIDAYS

Very soon, you will see a great many people wearing Red every Friday. The reason? Englishmen and women who support our troops used to be called the 'silent majority'. We are no longer silent, and are voicing our love for Country and home in record breaking numbers. We are not organized, boisterous or over-bearing. We get no liberal media coverage on TV, to reflect our message or our opinions.

Many British people, like you, me and all our friends, simply want to recognize that the vast majority of Britain supports our troops.

Our idea of showing solidarity and support for our troops with dignity and respect starts this Friday and continues each and every Friday until the troops all come home, sending a deafening message that every Briton who supports our men and women afar will wear something red.

By word of mouth, press, TV -- let's make Great Britain on every Friday a sea of red much like a homecoming football team. If every one of us who loves this country will share this with acquaintances, co-workers, friends, and family, it will not be long before Britain is covered in RED and it will let our troops know the once 'silent' majority is on their side more than ever, certainly more than the media lets on.

The first thing a soldier says when asked 'What can we do to make things better for you?' is...'We need your support and your prayers'... Let's get the word out and lead with class and dignity, by example; and wear something red every Friday.

IF YOU AGREE --

THEN SEND THIS ON

IF YOU COULD NOT CARE LESS

THEN HIT THE DELETE BUTTON.

IT IS YOUR CHOICE.

THEIR BLOOD RUNS RED---- SO WEAR RED! ---

Lest we Forget.

The email has a heart warming story and it drums up modern day patriotism. But whilst the message is for the British troops posted in many war zones around the world today, it reminded me that Dad was in the same position sixty odd years. Of course the World War II was fought for different reasons, but Dad was fighting for King and Country and without that I wouldn't be where I am today. I won't forget. Thanks Dad, and special thanks Mum as well. You are both heroes.

Dad (on the right) in Normandy June 2005

This picture appeared on the whole of the front page on the Daily Telegraph - I had so much pride telling the newsagent 'This is my Dad!'

A Sorjourn into China

One of the more recent benefits to my job in Hong Kong is the acquisition of a multi entry visa into China. I will visit Shanghai several times in the next few months and obviously make the most of my visit to that fast changing city. But meanwhile I thought I would hop across the border between Hong Kong and Shenzan and see how the other half live. Despite Hong Kong technically belonging to China it is a still a separate administrative region (SAR) and visas are required to enter the mainland, even for Hong Kong residents.

Shenzan is a new town. It has grown in less than thirty years from a small agricultural town to a metropolis and model city for the People's Democratic Republic. I can only assume that the Chinese saw the separation of Hong Kong from Great Britain as inevitable and the far sighted central committee thought fit to develop the border area for easy trade access to the west and therefore the expansion of China. In 1992 Deng Xiaoping, who was responsible for bringing China out of the woes of the Cultural Revolution into its present day economic force, made a famous speech in Shenzan where he declared 'Poverty is not Socialism; to get rich is glorious'. Deng died in 1997 at the grand old age of 92, which was a little to soon to see his prediction come true, at least for some. I think there are several million living in China today who either wish for the old days, or wonder where why they didn't make it on the band waggon.

Anyway it is still China so yesterday I decided to have a little adventure and set the alarm for an early start. I caught the bus to the MTR railway at Tseun Wan where I boarded the train to Prince Edward and changed to the Kwun Tong line for the short hop to Kowloon Tong. Here the East Rail line goes to the border at either Lo Wo or Huanggang. I choose Lo Wo for no particular reason. The journey took just over two hours, and I have since found out there is a quicker way from the Gold Coast by going to Tuen Mun and catching mini bus to Sheung Shui, but that is for next time.

I love border crossings, especially new ones, where there is unpredictability of the outcome. I knew this time wouldn't be an issue because I had the visa, a valid passport and hundreds of others seemed to be doing the same thing! Nevertheless I was cautious and watched what everybody was doing. First step was to leave Hong Kong and I am always impressed with the way the Hong Kong Residents Card works. It leaves the UK in the 20th century of technology, and whilst the British Government agonise and debate the rights and wrongs of ID cards, Hong Kong have a great success with their card and finger print identity that processes you out of the country in seconds. That was the easy bit done.

There followed what is best described as a convergence of people into a relatively narrow passageway towards the Chinese border. I think normally this 'funnel' would adequately cope with hundreds of people at a time, but the emergence of pig flu has brought with it an extra step in the no man's land between the countries. Since a case of swine fever was confirmed in Hong Kong on Friday, there has been a proliferation in the use of face masks. Personally I doubt whether the masks are effective in preventing germs spreading from the wearer, nor are they any use in preventing the wearer from inhaling the annoying and lethal bug H1N1. Nevertheless the face mask is almost part of the national costume in Hong Kong and the pig cold is a fantastic excuse to dig out the old mask and wear it with pride. However, wearing a mask or not, everybody was required to fill out a declaration that we weren't feeling dizzy, had a runny nose or had fainted in the last seven days. We had to enter name, address and phone number and sign it. How this stops the spread of the bugs I don't know, but the Hong Kong citizens met the challenge with gusto and chaotic scenes broke out as the realisation dawned on each departing passenger that the form was compulsory. The problem was a shortage of pens. There was either a big group with one pen between, a small group who each had a pen but were in a hurry, or individuals like me who didn't either have a pen or knew anybody who could lend me one. The good news was the authorities recognised the issue and set up a line where the penless could get assistance, the bad news was the queue stretched further back than they anticipated and almost stopped people from coming out of the Hong Kong border control points. For a moment the air was tense as the 'jobs worth' border control clerk shouted at the queue and queue shouted back. All of this was in Chinese and of course I was blissfully above whatever was going on.

Twenty minutes later I joined the throng of queues waiting to hand the form into the other border control guards whose task it was to collect the useless declarations. Fortunately the lines moved quickly enough but it was interesting to watch how the Chinese deal with queues. As a patient Englishman I am happy to join a queue on two conditions; one, it is moving quickly enough, two, everybody takes their turn and doesn't jump in front of me. Especially me! Sadly this last rule is lost on all Chinese who will wriggle and worm their way through to the front whilst somehow I end up further back from where I started. I have learnt to join them, and the great thing is nobody cares, especially the old ladies. Give as good as you get and progress blossoms like a daffodil in Spring time.

The border guard had a problem with my useless form. It isn't so useless after all, because he questioned where I had been in the last seven days. When I said Hong Kong he looked at me with that border guard disbelieving look in his eye. Carefully watching if his right hand was moving towards his Smith and Wesson Magnum firearm I quickly produced my ID card and I was through.

Next hurdle to clear was passing through the Chinese border. More immigration cards and more queues specially set up for 'Foreigners'. After the form filling, with pens provided this time, and another line, in which the queue jumpers from India showed off their perfected technique, I was declared 'fit for purpose' and the formalities were completed. I walked straight up to empty booth marked 'Special Needs', well by this time I thought I 'needed something special', and the lovely Chinese police lady stamped my passport and at last I was in!

From leaving the apartment to entering China it took three hours, the last hour spent travelling all of fifty yards!

So what do I do now in this wonderful city of mainland China. On leaving the border control I found myself in a huge pedestrian esplanade leading into the main part of the town. I was approached by the usual touts wanting to take me a shopping experience, and other things I will leave to your imagination. But I was intent on seeing as much as possible. I didn't have a map so I relied on the position of the sun and the small hills to west of the station as my landmark.

Just 30 years ago Shenzan was a small agricultural town

To be honest there isn't all that much to see in terms of tourist sights like museums, buildings and so on. I was interested in looking at the differences in life between this town and Hong Kong. The way people go about their business, prices, what is for sale? Where people live, what they eat, how they deal with pollution, waste, traffic. There was a lot to look at.

Downtown Shenzan

Definitely prices are cheaper and I splashed out on and Adidas running T shirt for 2GBP. It is obvious everybody loves shopping and the markets were heaving with humanity. I grew weary of that and found a street cafe where I lunched on generous helpings of rice, fish, beef and two veg for the equivalent of 80 pence in the UK. It was tasty too!

Universal shopping

There is hardly anything in English so looking at shops to try and work out what it is can be hard work. Asking for directions is useless so I found myself constantly remembering where I thought I was in relation to the station. That didn't work either, so I gave up and opened my mind.

This 'free the mind' approach led me into a working class estate where I was made welcome enough, but it was obvious not many foreigners ventured in these parts. It was a bit of an eye opener with many fairly tall apartment blocks about twenty stories high but barely a gap to walk through between them. What struck me was that the windows from one building were about one metre away from the building opposite. Washing was hanging from many windows adding to the black and dingy atmosphere. In many of these alley ways were temporary kitchens and right in the middle of these blocks I found small shops selling household items. It was a dark world and reminded me of the 'City of Darkness' that was once Kowloon City in Hong Kong. (Note: I am compiling a blog on this fascinating lost city for Hong Kong, but if you google 'City of Darkness' you will get a feel for the subject). The streets were over flowing with life, from children playing, men playing cards, women chatting. There were shops everywhere selling everything from clapped out computers to engineering spares; from bakeries to clothes shops. None of them looked particularly inviting but I noticed an abundance of hairdressers. Asia has a fascination for its hair but Shenzen must have the highest ratio of hairdressing salons per head of population (forgive the pun).

Back to back living in Shenzan

I think you can judge differences between cultures through the simple act of a haircut. When I am in the mood I like to put my trust in a local barber just for the fun of it. I have had haircuts in many countries from rural Laos and Thailand to The USA, Canada and as of yesterday, China.

I decided on a fairly decent looking shop in the middle of the estate. They couldn't speak English, but it was fairly obvious what I wanted. I was seated in the chair and a small towel tucked into my T shirt. A girl of twenty something was assigned to wash my head and giggled at the foreigner and his foreign hair, or in my case lack of it. I had a shampoo where lots of soap was lathered up on my scalp and water sparsely added, in what is called a dry shampoo. This went on for ten minutes with a sublime scalp massage. I transferred to the sink and when the shampoo was washed out I was ready for a cut. The male barber executed the style exactly as I wanted it, despite no English being understood (a number 2 razor cut to make me look mean and tough). After that another rinse was followed by a towel dry, and that was it. I had no idea how much this luxury experience was going to cost, so imagine my surprise when the cashier charged me 15 yuan - the equivalent to 1.50GBP. Now that's what I call value for money. I was made very welcome and there were lots of 'bye byes' as I left. The saving on Hong Kong prices nearly paid for my trip!

I wandered round aimlessly observing life, and although I only saw a handful of westerners, there was no animosity directed to me and I wasn't challenged or made to feel uncomfortable. There is no reason to, but sometimes this type of voyeurism can be met with antagonism.

After all the walking I succumbed to my first ever foot massage, and I instantly decided I had missed out on this for far too long. I will revisit next time I go to Shenzen. It cost the equivalent of 3GBP for over an hour's intensive pounding and pummeling on my tired legs. I had earned this from the tough walk on Friday and the day's wandering round this city. As hit the streets again my legs were rejuvenated and I made my way to the border, which actually was a bit harder then planned; mainly because my most important navigational aid, the sun, was hidden by a sudden onset of thick cloud. Luckily I met someone who could speak English and he was delighted to strike up a conversation and, actually be understood as well as giving important instructions about my route. He got left and right mixed up, but with some animated sign language we overcame that mistake and I am sure he will remember right from left next time.

The return back to Hong Kong was less hectic than the arrival, but I still had to fill in the useless form for Hong Kong's obsession with pig bugs.

It took two hours to get back to Gold Coast but I had enjoyed a excellent day out. Next week I am going to Shanghai. It is a hard job but someone has to do it.

A Walk in the Hills

At last the sunshine and clear blue sky has settled on Hong Kong. After last weekend's rain and climatological misery where my mood was the same as a caged animal, I was free to explore the hills and at the same time see the horizons without getting wet. Yesterday was a public holiday and I was early to rise to catch the ferry to Mui Wo a small bay on Lantau Island.

This small village has a different atmosphere from the flesh pots of Central and Tsim Sha Tsui. There is a freshness and a more casual approach, far fewer people and feeling that there are not the same rules and regulations to abide by. Perfect for a welcome day off. My plan was to walk up Sunset Peak followed by Lantau Peak and eventually arrive at the site of the Buddha Dollar, the subject of a previous blog where Khamma created the much better phrase 'car on string' to describe a cable car. The day didn't quite turn out like that, but first things first.

After stocking up at the Wellcome supermarket, which has a much better choice than my local at Gold Coast, I set off up the steep road towards the Nam Shan picnic area. It is a fairly monotonous road but I was briefly side tracked by the cemetery. The Chinese are extremely respectful of the deceased with festivals and offerings regularly made in the temples. But in this unusual cemetery the authorities were combining the burial of the dead with slope management. During the heavy rains in the summer there is a considerable risk of land slip and mud falls. Where this is a danger the Government Department for Slopey Land (?), will stabilise and more or less eliminate the risk of land slip. They strengthen the soil and then pour cement on the slope so that the rain washes off and is channeled into water catchment areas. All these slopes are numbered so that if there is a problem the slope is quickly identified and repaired. In this small cemetery it appeared they were re-burying the bodies into mini mausoleums and then creating a cement slope so the bodies don't wash away onto the beach!

The trail started in a woodland paradise, perfect for walking with sun dappled glades and tantalising views of the villages and deserted beaches through the trees. It was a steep path because the walk starts at sea level and rises to 869 metres (2,851 feet). But this tranquil and deserted path tricked the mind and the hard slog in the heat soon transformed into, well, a hard slog in the heat! But time passed by quickly enough.

The trees started to thin and the hills opened out into a rolling and folding landscape. I thought of the Peak District without the peat bogs, I thought of Scotland's Munros with similar walks from sea level to over 3,000 feet without the midges, I thought a lot about my climbing friends past and present. The views opened up and to the south I could see the bays and inviting beaches and to the north the airport with aircraft landing and taking off. In the far distance towards the north I could just make out the Gold Coast and the apartment block where I live. I met several groups of people but otherwise I could enjoy the solitude, although the peacefulness was constantly interrupted by the distant roar of aircraft. It was nice to hear the birds sing and see butterflies in aerobatic combat with each other.

The Office!

Eventually the route leveled out and the rolling mountainside opened up onto a windy plateau. Here I found several mountain huts that were constructed about fifty or sixty years ago as retreats for missionaries working in China. Nowadays they are apparently available to hire, but there was little evidence of a high occupancy rate. The summit of Sunset Peak was close but for some reason the path did not lead up to it, but rather circumvented the round cone shaped peak. I wasn't going to let this get in the way of standing on the third highest point in Hong Kong, so I 'pirated' my way upwards through tufted grass and across boulders, watching for snakes at the same time.

The view was good. There was a trig point which immediately reminded me of England. All of the trig points in England have been retired now and only a handful are cared for by voluntary groups driven by a nostalgic necessity to keep alive a monument in memory of someone or something. I would be surprised if Hong Kong's trig points are used with all the GPS and radar technology dotted all over the islands, but it was in excellent condition.

Sunset Peak Trig Point with Lantau Peak in the background

My pirate route across the grass almost back fired as I moved towards my next target, the Lantau Peak standing, no looming, at 934 metres (3064 feet). The path I should be on was far below me and slowly going in a different direction to mine. Some serious pirating was needed and I found a faint path which after about thirty minutes stumbling brought me back to the straight and narrow, except on this occasion it was winding steeply downhill in a series of steps.

I had been warned the descent was tough on the legs and it certainly was. I couldn't decide if it was easier to walk at the side of the steps or to use the steps themselves. Both were heavy on my thighs which at times trembled under the pressure of transferring body weight. My thoughts turned to who constructed this path and how long it took them, it is a remarkable achievement. But my attempts to make my mind wander did nothing to stop the muscle burn and eventually even my toes were hurting from the constant bumping in my shoes. My spirits were not lifted by the sight of Lantau in front of me and the thought that every foot descended on Sunset Peak represented a foot ascending on that monster of a hill. Whereas at first I could see the mass of Lantau set against a hinterland of other smaller mountains, including the Buddha Dollar, after half an hour on this searing descent all I could see Lantau, big and awesome.

There was an escape! In between my rapidly demoralising state of mind and the Lantau Peak was a bus back to Mui Wo. I succumbed and decided Lantau summit will have wait for another day, it isn't going anywhere, even if the Government Department for Slopy Land hasn't registered it yet!!!!

On the beach

Back in Mui Wo I wandered amongst the local houses with the usual stores selling fresh fruit and veg, the men playing Jahong, and the women looking after the babies. On the beach was the temporary influx of townies but there was little to keep my interest. I returned to Central and enjoyed a few moments looking at the cityscape in the twilight before wandering around Tsim Sha Tsui and returning home, tired and almost beaten.

On my way back I sneezed and then grunted like a pig. I hope I haven't got swine flu.