The heavens opened up today, + it bucketed down, more or less forcing us (or at least providing a good excuse) to stay in for the entire day. So I did almost the same as I would do in England under similar conditions, + slumped in front of the telly + watched sport. Most unproductive. Val, I think, was slightly more active than I, at least intellectually, in that she read. There was a brief foray to shop, a splendid dinner, then back to the box. HK seems to have that effect on people. Which is one reason why I’ve decided not to apply for the British Council course. It would take another year out of my life dong something I’m sure I wouldn’t enjoy in a place which, tho’ exciting for a visit, would be stultifying intellectually over any period of time.
Val toddled off to bed at a reasonable hour, but I stayed up + up, beyond even the late film, which finished around 2. I read my book – we acquired “The Man from St Petersburg” by Ken Follet, which was alright, but not special – if anyone is a one-book author, it’s him. I also talked with an American from Georgia, + Ray, a Cockney, 2 other late-stayers, mainly because they’d been drinking. Ray, I discovered, as he slumped further + further into the coffin-like settee, was very drunk indeed, + increasingly incoherent, but I enjoyed talking with the other bloke. Eventually, when Ray had dropped off to sleep entirely, I helped the other fellow get him off to bed, + then finished my book. That took me to around 4.30 – I still wasn’t tired, but decided I’d better get to bed. Or might as well do so, anyway.
The first of what was to prove something of a reguar occurrence, staying up till very late, ostensibly watching telly, but also chatting with various people. But I think my instincts were right about Hong Kong: not the place for us to spend any time in, especially at this stage of our trip, when we are actually looking forward to returning to “normal” life.
