We checked in at about 1.30, which makes it officially Wednesday. It also means we’d overstayed our visa… by 2 hours. Actually, tho’ I’d known about it, it had slipped my mind, so I didn’t know why the officials were having a mildly concerned little conference about us at the immigration desk. We did in fact have to see their boss, but he was quite alright about it – we just faked innocence. We didn’t have to pay a fine, tho’ he did stamp something in our passports. It’s in Thai, which is both good + bad – we can’t read it, but then neither can the officials of any other country. And the man assured us it wouldn’t prejudice re-entry to Thailand.
The flight itself, with Air India, was uneventful, the food extremely unexciting, being 2 open sandwiches, one of cheese, one of fish. We were able, however, to get 2 servings each, + I finished off Val’s as well, so at least I was full. Our hostess was helpful + friendly – she was, curiously, American. When we arrived, it was light, tho’ still early, but fortunately we cleared very quickly – customs + immigration were thorough, but efficient. We boarded the bus with a good no. of fellow travellers, all of us heading for the same place. There is a block of flats + offices in Kowloon (the main tourist district, across the harbour from HK island itself), called Chungking Mansions, + it is simply chock-a-block with guest-houses + hostels of various types. It was funny to see us all scrambling off the bus at the same stop, + following like a bunch of dim-witted sheep the one traveller who seemed to know where we were going… where he was going, I should say, but it amounts to the same thing. As well as having 17 floors, Chungking Mansions has 5 blocks, each served by a different set of lifts, found in a different part of the rabbit warren that goes by the name of Chungking Parade. We opted to head for the 16th floor of Block A, a popular choice among our small group. This was the Travellers’ Hostel, $20 each for a dorm bed. The place is decidedly dingy + dirty, but has a few advantages: it has a Travel Agent, specialising in on your own trips to China, on the premises; it has a large notice-board offering travel books for sale, casual employment, air tickets etc; + best of all, it has a kitchen. (Filthy, tiny, + pitifully equipped, but a kitchen nonetheless.)
Once we were checked in, we changed some money, rang up some of the numbers I’d been given about trips (a frustrating + depressing business – at only one of them did I get any response at all, + that was along the lines of not for a while), + then headed into the supermarket. This cheered us up immensely. Not only was it fabulously well-stocked, + along the most English of lines, it was also fabulously cheap. We returned with our bag of goodies, + ate a hearty brunch (an appalling Americanism, but useful all the same.) Chatted for a while with Trevor, an Englishman. He’s come out to HK via India, + is planning to head back via the Trans-Siberian. What interested me most was that he talked to a publisher in England about his trip, + has been advanced £350 to write a book about it. And he’s never written anything before! Both depressing + encouraging.
The immigration office was our next destination, but it turned out to be nothing like as bad as Dr Doom in Bangkok had predicted. It might indeed, we were told, take some time (tho’ not 12-18 weeks) to issue us with a new passport, but we would not have to surrender our old one while that process was going on, so would be able to visit China, + collect our new one upon our return. We were told to come back tomorrow + apply formally at the office upstairs.
We slept in the afternoon, understandably after a night devoid of the precious stuff, then visited a different supermarket, making our 2nd trip to the altar of the true God within 12 hours. Bought, then returned to cook, our evening meal – broccoli cheese. In the evening we settled down to watch television. HK has 2 English language stations, so for the first time we could watch a good news programme (a US TV-style format, but never mind.) Later, there was English football, the ubiquitous Road to Wembley, + much, much later, at 2 kin the morning, live coverage of Man Utd in the semi-finals of the Cup-Winners Cup. After my afternoon nap, I was not at all tired, so stayed up to watch it. Surprisingly, in view of the number of Brits about, I was the only one. I whiled away the time waiting for it by chatting with Jean, a Scots girl who teaches English at a couple of places around town. In many ways, HK is like the English-speaking world must have been like 50 years ago. The British subjects are just given 30 days to kick off with, but that is easily extendable, + without question, to 6 months. And then beyond that, assuming one has a job. And there are no repeat no restrictions on working. One of the places Jean works for is at the British Council, + that certainly interests me. She also mentioned a few other places worth trying. Worth a thought.
The football was pretty calamitous. Man Utd could only manage a 1-1 draw at home to Juventus, so it looks as tho’ they’re buggered. Their excuse was that their entire midfield (a formidable one too – Muhren, Robson, + Wilkins) was missing thro’ injury. Not that that is much help to them.
And so, despite the faux pas with the visas, we have arrived in, not only another country, but another culture, a strange mix of familiar English with most unfamiliar China. But it seems, judging by my immediate attempt to find someone organising smuggling trips, that our first project is to arrange such. And in the meantime, we are in Chungking Mansions, very much an iconic address.
