Day 46 – Hong Kong to London

We checked-out of China using the best airport check-in in the world. Go to a terminal in the centre of the city – for us 13 hours before our flight, check in your baggage and get your boarding pass. You are then free to do what you want for the day. I wish I could tell you we had the most exciting day of the trip but in reality we just relaxed, visited the botanical gardens and ate our last plate of dumplings.

The flight home was long, boring and packed, the weather on arrival was wet. It's not all bad news however, before leaving I bet an actor friend an extremely large sum of money (enough that I don't have to work for the next year) that Chelsea would get to the League Cup Final. So I am now off to claim my money from a certain Mr Ledger.

So that is it, after nearly seven weeks on the road I am going to the local – I am gagging for a good pint of Ginger Finger and some beans on toast.

Thanks for listening and stay tuned for 'The Amazon Adventure' coming to a screen near you in 2009.

Day 45 – Hong Kong

We start our last full day with a train and bus ride out to the peak of Lantau Island and a visit to the largest seated Budda in the world – not impressed with that are you? Being a functioning temple they have lots of tourist tat on offer including incense sticks the size of light-sabers, what I would have done for one of those last night.

We take a fantastic 30-minute cable car ride back down (which seemed an easier option than the 7-hour hike) and spend the afternoon in the manic crowds of the central markets.

Day 44 – Macau to Hong Kong

With the finish line in sight we catch a short ferry ride from Macau back to Hong Kong, stopping en-route for a Portugese tart – which is a Macanese sweet cake rather than a dubious service offered by seedy hoteliers,

After a mammoth hunt for a hotel room that was not only central but clean and decent sized (most rooms in Hong Kong would only be considered big by the supporting cast of Snow White) we give up and decided clean was good enough. After being made to wait outside for over an hour for it to be cleaned, we are then bizarrely moved into a different one. We are too tired to care, so simply check that the suspiciously shoddy looking adjoining door is securely locked and head out for food.

Returning several hours later, we find our room resembles a Rastafarian kipper smoking factory. Choking back the tears we investigate the cause further to find that the adjoining door is connected to a Buddhist temple and they are having a monumental incense burning festival. Not feeling particularly Buddhist about the prospect of spending the night expecting Pink Floyd to appear through the bathroom door the obliging manager gets an earful and we get yet another room.

Day 43 – Macau

Having been rudely awakened by our toilet smelling of three week old beef in oyster sauce I was forced to get the old crone down the hall to administer some bleach. She ignored me, In part, because my grasp of Chinese does not stretch to 'Excuse me but is there any chance that you, as a cleaner, can do some some fucking cleaning in my room?' and in part because she clearly did not give a toss.

Instead we visited the Macau Museum in the morning and a superb exhibition on DaVinci in the afternoon, where we stayed until the night porter threatened to call the police unless we left or at least got him some new batteries for his torch.

Having spent a couple of days in Macau it seems that there are two great passions over here; the first is biscuits. Every shop seems to sell biscuits and you can't move down the main street for being handed freebies. I should have been collecting them since I arrived – I would have had enough to take on McVities. 

The second is gambling, with Macau being touted as the Las Vegas of the East, I recently read that gambling tables earn more than ten times of those in Las Vegas, I have to admit to being very sceptical about this fact, indeed if this fact were in book form I think it would be found along with titles such as; Outstanding Ethiopian Cookery, Great Footballer Haircuts of the 80s and The Big Book of Australian Culture. 

The huge casino we visited tonight (in the hope of looking like big-time rollers and consequently getting drowned in free booze) looked so gaudy that the croupiers were wearing sunglasses due to the amount of fake gold on show. As for the free drink, we got two bottles of water – not even sparkling! I hung around for the cabaret to come onstage but to say the dancers were a bit rough would be an insult to sandpaper, the girls looked like they had been head-hunted from a working mans club in Rotherham and fed cream buns before being squeezed into g-strings that disappeared far too promptly into their amble nether regions. I could only bear to watch for six and a half hours.

Day 42 – Macau

Well the temperature can't exactly be described as balmy but at least there is not a minus sign in front of it. At the moment it is nice to be wearing just the one pair of socks again.

As we have spent the last few days marching at a pace the Red Army would be proud of we decided to relax a little, consequentially we have done bugger all today. So for those interested in such things here is a run down of the best (and worst) Chinese beers:

Dark Beer – The name is hopelessly uninspiring, but this wins hands down, sadly not widely available.

TsingTao – The Buttweiser of China but far, far superior.

Suntory – The sort of beer you would bring to a party and then drink something better.

Rhinetech – Originally brewed by Germans, I fear something was lost in translation.

Hans – If you drink Hans, you are a bum.

Snow – The sort of beer you would bring to a party and leave there.

Day 41 – Beijing to Macau

I have counted 8,999,999 bicycles in Beijing that woman was lying. Oh shit, there is another one.

Alright cold is one thing but this is just taking the piss, overnight it has started snowing again. Fear not as we are booked on an afternoon flight for some much needed warmth to the historic former Portugese colony of Macau. To be honest it could be a bestiality haven for war criminals, as long as it's warm, I'm going. I have been watching the temperature for the last week hover around 20-22, however, they must have seen us coming as today it has fallen to 10, but after Beijing it still feels tropical.

We took a bus into the downtown area and started looking for somewhere to stay. We entered one hotel to be greeted by a chorus line of what one can only describe as 'good-time girls'. These girls were wearing more make-up than clothing and I can only suppose that in this third-world country they could not afford more material for their skirts – although the fishnet stockings and 5-inch stilettos seem to discount this theory.

In a succinct display of Sino-Irish relations (that Ian Paisley would have been proud of) Ciara dismissed the girls as 'Dirty, disease-ridden bitches' and decided we were not going to be staying. With hindsight, I suspect the hotel may have been used for more seedy purposes than just sleeping, therefore, I would suggest that anyone visiting Macau in the near future should steer well clear of:

The London Hotel, 18 Praca Ponte a Horta, Macau Peninsula, (avoid buses 10 or 10A from the ferry terminal which drop you right outside).

We found another hotel but I feel it lacked that certain je ne sais quoi.

Day 40 – Beijing

It is getting colder by the day. Scratch that, it is getting colder by the hour – I am currently wearing three pairs of socks and four t-shirts and I am still cold.

We ventured to the Forbidden City in the morning, which is a huge imperial palace slap bang in the middle of Beijing just North of Tiananmen Square. It was a great place to wander around and even with the sub-zero temperatures there was still a lot of visitors, I imagine that In the summer, like The Great Wall, it would be horrendously packed. There are not many reasons for visiting China in January but perhaps the lack of hoards of tourists is one.

You would think that after Canda and Northern China we would have had enough of ice, snow and artic weather by now, but rather foolishly we decided to visit an ice show this evening. I had never been to an ice show before (it doesn't take Confusious to work out what it will entail) but it was superb, albeit unsurprisingly, freezing cold. I mean the soles of my feet had passed being numb and were in acute pain cold. We stayed for about an hour after which time we were seriously considering eating a husky to stay alive, but as we couldn't find one we back just got in the car which was taking us back to Beijing.

So far, I have counted 8,128,020 bicycles in Beijing.

Day 39 – Beijing

First stop this morning was to join the masses of admirers who queue every morning to see Chairman Mao lying in his mausoleum. I'm sure there is a joke in here somewhere about having frozen dictators but I'll be buggered if I can find it, perhaps it's the Chinese Miss World heats that are on TV – it's very distracting.

Battling the truly awful Beijing traffic we head to the North of the city to visit the The Summer Palace. The Summer Palace? They have the audacity to call it The Summer Palace? If I had a lake that was 2km wide and frozen solid I would think about giving it a different name. I watched with mounting anticipation and relish as more and more people went onto the ice and started jumping up and down upon it – I assume these would be the same people who whilst cruising at 35,000 feet would think 'I wonder what would happen if I open this door?'. Unfortunately for me, you and Jeremy Beadle who would have received my film clip the ice steadfastly refused to swallow these fools as it so rightly deserved to do – is there no justice?

The Palace itself was fantastic.

We then visited the worst tourist attraction in Beijing, perhaps China. On paper it seemed great; 'Beijing's Underground City – a unique cold war era underground labyrinth, built deep enough to withstand a nuclear blast'. The advertisement was as good as it got, in reality it was one huge tunnel with a few doors along the length, none of which you could go into. So all we ended up doing was walking along a single corridor for about 2km whilst a guide pointed at sporadic metal doors saying 'Behind this is hospital', 'Behind this is Cinema'.  I got the feeling we were being duped in a big way.

Later that night we went out into the rapidly falling temperature to watch a Kung Fu show, unfortunately, it was a bit too much of a 'show' and not enough Kung Fu for my liking. The action was good, but if you wanted to see loads of blokes getting smashed around the head with planks of wood and kicked in the guts you would have seen more action in a pub on the Old Kent Road and got a decent curry on the way home.

So far, I have counted 7,145,938 bicycles in Beijing.

Day 38 – Beijing

Two things must you know about The Great Wall. 

One, it is great, 

Two, it is a w.. 

Oh, you've heard that one have you? Well you won't know that it is unbelievably steep in parts – which makes for great fun when watching Chinese women in stilettos. The Steep Wall of China just doesn't have the same ring I suppose. We also visited the MIng Tombs which I thought were vastly overrated – as graveyards go.

Since arriving in China we have noticed that one of the favoured pastime of the men folk seems to be hacking up as much phlegm – as loudly as is humanly possible without losing a lung – and then launching it onto the street for everyone to see. Here in Beijing a press campaign is being run to try and stop the habit (purely for the Olympics crowds later this year), however, so many people seem to do it that I am sure if it was stopped the earth may start to tilt on its axis with the missing weight of Chinese phlegm.

You think that is gross? Wait until you see a woman do it.

In the evening we decided that we must sample Beijing's world famous dish – Peking duck. We consulted our MIchelin Restaurant Guide referenced the Egon Ronay website but eventually used the age old, tried and trusted system of saying "This'll do, it has a menu in English and pictures'. We were instantly impressed with the open plan layout of the restaurant which afforded us splendid views of the kitchen, and enabled us to watch the master chef skillfully prepare our duck. We were slightly less enamoured as whilst eating we watched him strip to his waist and start having a wash in the sink, when he pulled out his razor and started having a shave we decided to pass on the banana fritters. All in all it was a very delicious meal and I believe I may have found the inspiration for Mr Wu's Leicester Square all-you-can-eat Chinese food emporium.

So far, I have counted 4,895,842 bicycles in Beijing.

Day 37 – Beijing

We arrived early in Beijing to a temperature of -5 and found somewhere to stay. After an hour in the room we realized that the only difference between it and a refrigerator was that the light didn't come on when we opened the door – we had to do it ourselves.

We spent the day in Tiananmen Square desperately trying not to make eye contact with soldiers, cross the path of the Revolutionary Guard or alert any members of the Politburo. I wasn't sure that we had done anything illegal, but that has never stopped the Chinese government running you over with a tank of course.

In the evening we watched an acrobatics show – which was absolutely amazing, some of the positions the women got themselves into, well, you wouldn't dream about it. At least not in a dream about acrobatics.

So far, I have counted 2,234,895 bicycles in Beijing.

Day 36 – Xian to Beijing

Todays weather forecast was wet, cold and bloody miserable, so we opted to stay cold and miserable inside our hotel – at least we remained dry. We Watched a DVD called 'The Kingdom' which was so bad that I would rather have been frozen, drowned and beaten by a team of baboons with cricket bats than have to sit through it. It was the story of a crack American (surprise, surprise) unit who go to Saudi to take-out the stupidest terrorist cell in the world. Tip 1: a street where everyone shoots at you, just may be where the terrorists are hiding.

After that 2-hour Hollywood inspired torture session I was happy to brave the snow for another overnight train – this time to Bejing.

The train station was absolute mayhem. A heaving, brawling, sweating mass of humanity, all with the singular aim of getting out of Xian – maybe The Kingdom was being shown on TV that night? It was as if someone had said Jamie Foxx is in the station and anyone can go and punch him in the head. There really was that many wld-eyed frantic people around.

Luckily, we were able to flash our first class tickets at a guard who swiftly pulled us from the ranks of the great unwashed and whisked us into our luxury waiting room. I was tempted to offer him a few coins to pull his assault rifle on them but contented myself by looking smug and happy that the tickets were the very best £7 upgrade I have ever spent.

Day 35 – Xian

First the rain came down.

We got drenched walking to a museum that was very good – provided you're interest in China from 3000BC to 800AD, personally I would have preferred a little more contemporary information. It was almost as if the curator had died half way through writing the caption cards but the owner had just thought 'Sod it, let's open anyway' or at least the Chinese version of those words.

Then the snow fell.

So, on the way back to our hotel with the temperature plumeting our wet clothes began to freeze onto us. 

Does this still sound like effing fun, eh?

Day 34 – Xian

Trying to get a bowl of rice in China can be hard work - especially if you are in a pet shop. So trying to get to The Army of the Terracota Warriors which is over an hour away by bus was going to be a challenge, luckily we found a bus which said 'Xian to Terracota Warriors Bus' on the front so I didn't have to point to the picture I had.

The Warriors were bloody fantastic - but that goes without saying, so I won't.

I can't begin to describe the amount of cheap souvenir tat that was on sale there, everything from small wooden warriors to big jade warriors. OK, it wasn't exactly a wide selection but if you were after building an army - especially one of varying sizes and materials you would be in pigs heaven.

Day 33 – Xian

We arrived at Xian station at 9am and are immediately mobbed by a stampede of touts, we get dragged to a succession of bad rooms and finally (unable to shake the leech off) we accept one.

It has got significantly colder here (the gloves are out again) but we spend a leisurely day visiting The Bell Tower – which you will not be surprised to hear contains a huge set of bells followed by The Drum Tower – which contains a huge set of drums. My search for The Tits Tower was to prove futile.

We watched a fantastic show by Chinese drummers and a rather dull one by Chinese bell ringers – although I did have a splendid pot of Jasmine tea whilst the bell-ringers strutted their stuff.

At dinner in the evening. I must admit I was slightly repulsed by the thought of 'Black Fungus in Vinegar', however, as I continued with the menu it only got worse, 'Dunkey Meat' leaving me with a sense of both confusion and nausea but it was the 'Chicken Clutches' that finally had me running for the door.

Day 32 – Nanjing to Xian

On our second attempt we finally make it to the Memorial Hall of the Nanjing Massacre. 

Anyone with a passing interest in genocide and mass murder will of course have heard of Nanjing (and its subsequent massacre) for the rest of you, in 1937 Nanjing (as the former capital of China) was subjected to a 6 week reign of terror at the hands of the Japanese that left over three hundred thousand people dead. Ask someone in China why they don't like the Japanese and this may give you some clues.

Ironically we had dinner in a Japanese restaurant (we didn't leave a tip – that showed them) and then caught an overnight train to Xian. The train showed endless clips of American daredevil stunts that went badly wrong - which admittedly were fucking hilarious – although I was the only one laughing.

The train was very clean, comfortable and modern, however, after a few hours – when most of the passengers had got comfortable and removed their shoes it was more of a clean, comfortable and modern cheese factory.

Day 31 – Nanjing

As bad days go, yesterday was all the way up there with the day Gary Glitter decided he really must get that computer fixed. Short of finding a cockroach in my dumpling, today could not be any worse.

The town was still totally enveloped in smog so we decided to spend the day with people less fortunate than us, namely; the dead. By some miracle we managed to find the correct bus (out of a possible 4000 options) and got ourselves to the top of Zijin Mountain which was high enough that the air had cleared and blue sky was visible for the first time since Hong Kong.

Zijin Mountain is the final resting place of Sun Yatsen – the father of modern China and Zhu Yuanzhang – the only MIng Emperor not buried in Beijing, we visited both their tombs and for me the lad Sun Yatsen won by a nose, I love a coffin that has a carving of the fella inside on the top of it. 

Back in town we discover there is more to the town than banks and roads and it's not quite as bad as we first thought.

Day 30 – Shanghai to Nanjing

For the first time on this trip we have a train journey that is less than 10 hours, so in a mere 3 hours we are whisked from the skyscrapers  of Shanghai to Nanjing a city that, on first impressions, could well be the armpit of China – and quite possibly the world. If banks, smog and 6 lanes of traffic are your thing – this could be the place for you.

Unfazed we head to the subtlety titled Memorial Hall of the Nanjing Massacre or as it is more commonly known by the locals The Memorial Hall of the Nanjing Massacre by the FILTHY JAPANESE DEVIL INVADERS!

It was a simple matter of taking the Metro line South for a couple of stops, changing trains and then West for a couple more stops. The only way it could have been simpler than the map indicated is if they had actually built the Metro lines.Yes, in classic Asian style the city map included train lines that are not due to open for another 3 years. It only took in the region of an hour to discover this and stop looking for the station.

Pissed off beyond belief, we bought a load of booze and retreated to our hotel room which looked like it had been designed by the same planners who did most of the high-rise estates in Lewisham. You would think the 25th floor room would treat us to unparalleled views, it did, but only of the blanket of smog that covers the city.

Day 29 – Shanghai

Having spent 3 days in Shanghai I am starting to realise why so many people wear surgical masks on the streets, my throat is so sore it feels like I have swallowed a spring roll sideways, it certainly isn't the amount of talking I have been doing either as most conversations consist of the following replies: 'I am from England', 'Yes England', '3 Weeks in China', 'No thank you I do not want a cup of tea'. 

Safe in the knowledge that the day could not be any worse than yesterday we start  with a visit to the Yuyuan Gardens. I don't often get excited by gardens – unless some dolly birds are sunbathing in them – but these ones were brilliant, All bamboo, temples, ponds and sculptured rocks – now if that doesn't sound exciting nothing will. My best story I heard was how during the Taipang Rebellion (Google/Wikpedia it – i can't be bothered to go into it) the rebels attacked French business interests in Shanghai, as a reprisal the French trashed the gardens. Could it get any more French? Get given a good beating, but get their revenge by doing over the local shrubbery. Fantastic.

We then took a trip out to the airport for no reason other than to sit on the train which runs at a healthy 430kph. We then had to sit on the train again to get back into town. I could bore you with lots of details about it being a Maglev train which means it is Magnetic and levitates but I am beginning to bore myself. Let's leave it that the thing is bloody fast and if they ever decide to build one in England it will break down after about 20 minutes.

Day 28 – Shanghai

On paper the day seemed so simple – go to the Yifu Theatre to buy tickets for the opera then visit the Propaganda Poster Art Museum to see lots of muscle bound peasants riding tractors hailing the glorious revolution.

Firstly let me tell you that the tourist information offices in Shanghai seem to exist solely to give Chinese people who hate tourists somewhere to sleep for the day, we have been into 3 since we arrived and the best reaction we have received from the simple question 'Do you have a map?' was when the woman shoved us towards the door and pointed at a traffic light.

So armed with our own (what we soon discovered was) hopelessly inadequate map we set off for the theatre, this proved a marathon walk and the 30 minutes it looked on the map quickly spiralled to 2 hours longer as we kept walking into car parks, shopping centres and every other large building along the street that closely resembled a theatre, and loads that looked nothing like one. Upon finally arriving at the box office we were told that if we wanted tickets for tonight we would have to come back at 7.30 tomorrow. After many confused looks, raised voices and finger pointing it turns out that their was no show that night – what with it being Friday.

Frustrated, we proceeded to the Propaganda Poster Art Museum, as searches go this one was epic – I don't think as much effort was put into the hunt for Osama Bin Laden as we put into looking for this museum. We walked for nearly 3 hours, but after being directed into dark alleys, kitchens and (once again) a car park (albeit a different one) we gave up. The whereabouts remain as elusive as why anyone would think The DaVinci Code is a good book. For a Propaganda museum it was bloody damn inconspicuous

Defeated, we did what anyone else would do and said 'Bollocks to this, let's go and get drunk'. Do you think we could find a bar? Don't get me started.

On the way back to our hotel we purchased the finest bottle of red Chinese wine money could buy (well £1.60 could buy) and several bottles of beer with no name. The wine, as I have a sneaky suspicion you may have guessed, was slightly less drinkable than a liquidised frog – at least that is what CIara said, I quite liked it.

In the evening we visited one of Shanghai's famous dumpling restaurants and contrary to all expectations, there was not a toe-nail in my rice, the waitress didn't drop a boiling pot of tea on me and we didn't get mugged.

Day 27 – Shanghai

Today we visited The Shanghai Museum which is supposedly one of the finest in the country, they say that history favours the victor and it is certainly true here, in all the exhibits about Emperor Ming Flash Gordon doesn't get mentioned once. On the whole I found it a little boring, hence the lamentable Flash Gordon line – when the highlight of your day is seeing some punter drop his recently purchased cream cake you know it is bad day – although that was very funny. The Modern Art Museum was much better but I won't bore you further.

In the evening we ate from the street stalls that rats do their best to avoid, Ciara got an egg pancake thing and I got fish balls – which is hardly surprising the amount I have been walking.

N.B. The next time anyone is approached in a London pub by a shady Chinese bloke with the infamous words 'DVD, DVD' and wanting £10 for 3 DVDs tell him that you have a mate in Shanghai who can get 5 for £1 and to behave himself.

Day 26 – Shanghai

I arrived in Shanghai around midday with some trepidation, the only words of Chinese I know had been learned in the early 80s watching The Benny Hill Show and unfortunately they only ran to 'You brudy iriot!'.

We found a great hotel to stay at, much classier than the last place, hotel rules include:

• No excessive drinking

• No fireworks in the room

• Dry nothing on lamps

• Do not follow strangers to fun places

Heeding all the above we set out to see the sights of Shanghai. It is a very strange place, half the buildings are grand colonial and the other half are monolithic blocks of concrete and glass but most of the inhabitants don't seem that interested in either. I read that an information campaign is being waged in readiness for the Olympics this year which encourages people to stop spitting in the street or being rude – it doesn't seem to have got through here. Perhaps it's because I keep shouting 'You brudy iriot' at people. 

To get to modern Shanghai you must cross a river via an underground tunnel inside a single train-like carriage – now it's not often that I am stuck for words but this time I am struggling, the carriage enters the tunnel in pitch darkness (just like any tunnel in the world) but then a Vincent Price style voice-over booms such lines as "Paradise and Hell...', 'Meteor Storm...' the tunnel is then illuminated in differing coloured lights, lazers and ambient sounds, did I mention the blow up dolls or projected jellyfish? I have no idea what any of it was about.

We visited The Oriental Pearl Tower which is trumpeted as being the 3rd largest tower in the world (whatever that means) and after negotiating the most incredibly complex ticketing system in the world (tickets can include 3 viewing platforms, a museum, a theatre and a roller coaster ride and every variation of the above) – we went crazy and got the most expensive £7 tickets to make things easy. I have no idea why there are 3 viewing platforms, in fact, I have no idea why there are any tall buildings at all, as due to the smog it is near on impossible to see further than about 2km. Bizarrely whilst at the highest viewing platform a Chinese girl approached me with her camera and motioned towards her dad wanting me to take a shot of them, but as I went to take the camera she shook her head and pointed, she wanted me in the photo next to her dad. I have no idea what any of it was about either.

China is strange.

Day 25 – Hong Kong to Shanghai

We bade a fond farewell to the Kimberley Hotel and it's various pimps and pros before stocking up on imitation Pot Noodles, amusingly shaped crisps and beer for the 20-hour train journey to Shanghai (and China proper not the English version we had been in). We had booked 2 beds in a 4 berth cabin so when the other passengers that we were supposed to share with failed to turn up we were delighted and promptly made ourselves at home. The beds were incredibly comfortable – the toilets not so.

Day 24 – Hong Kong

We started our day early with a ferry crossing from Kowloon to Hong Kong island to visit the longest escalator in the world which glides the Hong Kong workforce effortlessly up and downhill for nearly 1km, (it switches from running downhill to uphill at 10.20 so you don't want to be late) obviously it was going to be near on impossible to match that but the tram ride up to Victoria Peak damn well did it. I won't bore you with the usual platitudes about the view of the Hong Kong skyline, suffice to say it was bloody good.

In the evening, which just happened to be the most horribly overrated night of the year or New Years Eve we went to a couple of bars in Lan Kwai Fong (try saying that when you're pissed) which is where the movers and shakers hang out and definitely the place to be, and to be seen in Hong Kong as my surreptitiously taken photo will justify. For the final countdown we went back to Kowloon to watch the fireworks display along the harbour front but the crowds were huge so we decided a few beers back at the hotel was a much better plan.

Merry New Year!

Day 23 – Hong Kong

We took off on the 28th of December and it's now the 30th so you can make up your own story of what happened on that missing day and send it to me. The best gets posted on this blog and wins two nights at The Paris Palace in Hong Kong (flights not included, terms and conditions apply).

Our priority was to find a decent room, but after being shown lots of 'No room at the inn' signs and just starting to think we may have to spend New Years in a stable, we strike gold when we come across the wonderful Kimberley Inn – clean, modern and big enough to swing a cat (and the restaurant downstairs will even buy the carcass from you afterwards).

On further inspection I started to suspect that this was no ordinary hotel and that it may actually be the sort of establishment that is frequented by clients who require room rates on an hourly basis. My suspicions were first aroused when I noticed that our bed, which was surrounded by mirrors, was round (I know, I know), I grew more convinced when I found a selection of condoms by said bed and the 24-hour porn channel pretty much nailed it, the deal clencher was seeing the 50 year old geezer go into the room next door with 2 dolly birds. As I said, wonderful, it was clean, modern, large and it had a porn channel, check out the Derek Trotter style controls on the side of the bed– genius!

We spent the day looking around Kowloon (which is the mainland area of Hong Kong) and visited the art museum, the avenue of stars (with the exception of Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan I had not heard of anyone – I tried in vain to find 50s super-sleuth Charlie Chan) and watched the evening Symphony of Light show where all the buildings from Hong Kong island are lit up for the delight of the tourists all the while doging badly dressed Pakistani touts offering to make me a suit. Hong Kong at night is mental no one seems to be going anywhere and yet the streets are packed, think Blade Runner and you are damn close.