A pleasant treat for me in the morning. I was visiting Val in her dorm when out of the adjoining bathroom stepped one of her room-mates, entirely naked – what used to be called full-frontal nudity in the films. She shrieked + leapt back into the bathroom, but took it in good sport, commenting later, when she was dressed, that the look on her face “must have been quite something.” I didn’t like to mention it, but it hadn’t been her face I was looking at.
Val went out to do some shopping for the rest of the morning, but I couldn’t face struggling up + down Nanjing Rd again, so I arranged to meet her for lunch, + stayed in the hotel. The hotel was once called the Astor, I believe, + is now the Pujiang, but still has traces of former glory. Each room has its own bathroom, + the fact that most of those rooms now have 8-10 beds just gives some ideas of how large they are, + perhaps how luxurious they must once have been. The corridors, all panelled with dark oak, are long + rambling – clearly efficiency + ease for the staff were not prime considerations. I had a bath + relaxed for a while, + was just preparing myself to go + meet Val, when there was an enormous crack of thunder, + the heavens opened. There was no question of going out for quite a while, but as soon as a lull occurred, I donned one poncho, grabbed the other, + ran for it.
By happy chance, Val arrived at the rendezvous at almost exactly the same time as me, having been sheltering in a music-shop (where she had bought a very cheap violin-like instrument.) We were shown to a special room in the restaurant, which disturbed us a little – special rooms often mean special prices. But we needn’t have worried – not only was the food superb, the price was quite reasonable. And an old man, rather a drunken man we thought, at the adjoining table, tuned the violin for us. Val later bought another one – one was for her, one was a present for Dave.
I spent the afternoon writing, + in the evening we went to the Seamen’s Club – it’s directly across the road from the hotel – for a plate of chips for tea. There we ran into a bunch of British sailors, who we chatted with for a while. They weren’t stunning company, but it made a change to talk with someone. One of them has a small piece of land near Holsworthy – he would be a bit of a bore, wouldn’t he.
My usual apology for my childish delight in unexpected nudity – I really ought to grow up. But otherwise a pleasant enough day, passing time while waiting to leave on the train.
