After the non-stop movement in Korea (and particularly the “movement”
at Incheon Airport!), the heat, humidity and overall hectic-ness
of Hong Kong really took it’s toll on me. It’s taken
me almost two years to get the experience down, however my memories
of the week were so befuddled even then things would be the same
– as a result, this won’t be the most detailed, or necessarily
accurate (all the days merged into one long, sweaty, humid hell!)
of diary accounts, but nonetheless, and here by popular demand,
is the long awaited Hong Kong account…
We arrived at Hong Kong’s huge new airport (with a runway
big enough to land a space shuttle, no less!) at the same time as
a delayed flight from London, and bumped into numerous TA elite
luminaries (such as Britney, Craig, Kevin and Coyle) in the passport
queue. After the speedy train into town, Helen and I waited for
the bus to take us to our first hotel (the Excelsior) whilst the
others jumped in cabs. It was only when I stepped outside from the
train terminal to board the bus that the heat and humidity hit me,
almost knocking me off my feet. Our hotel was at the far end of
Wanchai, and towered over the harbour and the Noon Day gun. We had
booked a deluxe room for one night only, as we were part of the
group booking in the Park Hotel in Kowloon (arranged by Scott Kelly),
but were arriving a day early. As we knew we would have spent the
previous night in a Korean style room in Seoul, we thought a touch
of luxury wouldn’t go amiss.
After some slight confusion, we were checked into a massive corner
suite, complete with harbour views and not one but two sinks in
the marble bathroom! Tearing ourselves away was hard, particularly
in my frail state after my earlier exertions at Incheon Airport,
however we headed out into the evening heat to make our way over
to the rendezvous in Delaney’s in Wanchai. A pretty quiet
evening followed, with me experimenting with Tsingtao (fruity, but
not to my taste), and one of Hong Kong’s own brews: San Migeul
(bizarre, but true). No matter what happened, I stayed sober, sweating
all of it out almost as soon as I could drink it – but we
put this down to it being my first day there and the fact I had
been ill that morning. Helen, on the other hand, only seemed to
suffer from wavy hair! We made our way back to our hotel around
2am, as many of the early-arrival TA carried on the party in the
club over the road from Delaneys.
After a decent lie in, it was up and out of the hotel, to head
across to Kowloon and the Park Hotel. We tubed it to Central, and
opted for the Star Ferry rather than the connecting MTR line, as
we were desperate to see Hong Kong from the harbour. The path to
the ferry took us past hundreds of Philipino girls sat on the walkways
above street level, chatting or playing cards and dominoes –
apparently, every Sunday all the au pairs get the day off so they
head here to meet up. The ferry was nice, but humid, as was the
rest of “outside”, away from the omnipresent air conditioning.
After a brief taxi ride to the hotel front door, we could see a
big scoreboard opposite telling us the temperature was 30-degrees
centigrade, but 98% humidity. A brief rest later, and it was over
the road to the team’s hotel to pick up the match tickets
– not just mine and Helen’s, but the 30 or so that made
up Scott’s party, including Ally and Susan.
We met up with everyone that evening in the hotel bar, making full
use of our drinks vouchers, and then people started to drift on
to other things. Ally, Sue and ourselves made our way across to
Central, where we met up with Criag, Kevin, Big Greg and various
others in The Dubliner’s sister bar in Lan Kwai Fong. After
more than a few drinks, and a disoriented Susan – which she
put down to “jet lag” – it was back under the
harbour in a taxi.
An early-ish start was needed on Monday morning, and as we strolled
down to the harbour around 11.30am, we were stopped by Chic Young
for an interview. Ally took the lead, but we all knew he was far
too sensible to be used in the final broadcast – still, it
didn’t stop us ringing home and arranging for the Scottish
News to be taped. We made our way to Caledonia, at the foot of the
Hutchison Building, and were surprised to be among the first in
– just Big Jim, Pete and Mac, the New York Tartan Army, and
Sheffield John were already there. Handily, this gave us a clear
run at the souvenir rugby shirts (one of the essential “Elite
TA” identifiers!), although all that was left was Small and
XXXL (which suited me, but Ally wasn’t too happy!). Despite
all my best efforts, Helen was steadfastly refusing to get one of
the cheong-suns that adorned the gorgeous waitresses. After more
than few Coronas (on special offer, and complete with lime in the
neck of the bottle), it was off to Delaney’s. The place wasn’t
too packed, which was handy as the air conditioning was non-existent,
and I found Craig at the back of the pub brandishing his Maidenhead
Utd flag, alongside ANZTA with their effort, before we headed off
in a cab again, this time to the magnificent Hong Kong Stadium,
half-built into the rocky hillside that led up to Happy Valley.
My hair had been bleached blonde prior to the trip – something
that had caused many a double-take amongst the passport officials
of Korea and Hong Kong – and Helen had sprayed it blue, save
for a diagonal cross, to give the impression of a saltire. This
one was much neater than the Korean effort, but still left me with
blue palms every time I raised my hand to my head. Once we arrived
at the ground, and I convinced the security guards that the can
of blue hairspray did not present a threat, we sauntered around
the side, and found ourselves on an escalator to the upper tier,
where we settled down next to Ewan and some of the other Loony Alba
boys.
It was an eerie experience, being in such an immense and impressive
stadium, amongst a crowd of less than 8,000, and all in crushing,
oppressive heat. Scotland took the field against South Africa, and
ran out losers in a two-nil defeat: no shame in that considering
we had a scratch team out against a World Cup qualifying squad.
The second game, which we stayed on for, was Turkey against Hong
Kong – not everyone could be bothered to watch: Ewan settled
down in the row behind us to catch up on some sleep (he’d
been kept awake the night before by his room-mate and a “guest”!).
After the double-header of games, we made it back down the hill
by taxi and headed for Wan Chai. By now, it had started to rain
like there was no tomorrow, and my blue hair paint was running out
of control, covering my face, neck and t-shirt, much to everyone
else’s amusement! We grabbed a quick pizza, whilst I cleaned
up as best I could in the toilets, then headed round to Delaney’s.
It became quite apparent very quickly that neither me nor Helen
were in any fit shape to drink properly, so at the shamefully early
hour of 11pm, we opted for an early night.
We had reasoned that with an early night, we should be able to
get up early and make the most of the next day; for example, heading
out to Lantau Island to see the big Buddha. The alarm was duly set
for 9am. Then 10am, then 11am… we finally got up, both still
shattered, at 3pm, after fifteen hours sleep! After showering drowsily,
we opted to head up into Mong Kok, a market district in North Kowloon.
We meandered around the Bird Market and the streets full of “hourly”
hotels, until we came across Mong Kok Stadium. Now, being an avid
ground spotter, I always took any chance I could to get in and grab
some photos, however I nearly met my match here! The guard on the
gate was quite insistent that there was no way, but we managed to
get referred to his boss – a couple of NATA pin badges, and
a sworn assurance that the photos would not appear in the press
were enough to get us in. On the way out, they explained that the
Scotland squad were on their way over to train in an hour’s
time.
We stopped for a soft drink and a bite to eat in the shopping mall
by the posh hotel over the road, where a friendly lad called Eric
behind the counter engaged us in conversation about the football,
before we headed back towards Kowloon through an even more crowded
street market, stopping for a beer at a sports bar festooned in
Carlsberg paraphernalia. We were able to catch the last 20 minutes
or so of England’s win in South Korea, and then watched in
amazement as dozens of Hong Kong locals headed for the exits in
England shirts at the final whistle. Back out it the market, we
were able to pick up a few odds and ends – some bandannas
for me (to mop my ever-moist brow), and some snoopy ornaments for
Helen, as well as a South China Athletic FC shirt in a sports shop.
Unfortunately, China’s idea of a XL shirt is slightly different
from mine! Another stop in a local pub, watching the locals gamble
over dice, and a woman in a PVC purple mini-dress promoting some
alcopop or another, and it was back off to base to prepare for the
evening.
Back at the hotel, and after a brief sewing kit repair to my kilt,
it was down to the bar, where many of the Loony Alba contingent,
and Ally and Sue, were in stitches at the performance of the in-house
entertainment. We decided en masse to head for the local pubs, and
after a few wrong turns (leading us into the depths of the tower
blocks on Nathan Road!), we found or first pub. After knocking back
happy hour priced beer, and meeting up with a Scottish ex-pat living
in Singapore, who clearly believed it was natural to speak like
Sean Connery (“My namesh McKim, Jamie McKim, from Shingapore”)
it was off into the night. The evening’s a bit of a blur –
we drank in Amoeba, ran by an exceptionally friendly (i.e. possibly
gay) Patrick, where Susan and Helen got into conversation with some
drunk Germans, and I got into an argument with the barman of the
Kowloon branch of Delaneys over the beer price (which led to me
leaving, and Ally & Sue getting free beer!). We also drank in
a pub called the Red Lion, which Helen thought “looked nice”,
yet turned out to be a brothel (as many dodgier Hong Kong pubs are),
and ended up with jugs of beer at some pub with a live band.
Wednesday was the earliest start of the trip – up in time
for Scott Kelly’s bus tour. The air-conditioned mini-bus was
pretty full, and was MC’d by an eccentric older Chinese guy
who was obsessed with facts and figures: “Can anyone guess
how much fish Hong Kong eats in a year?”. The tour took in
Victoria Peak, a temple down at Causeway Bay, Aberdeen Harbour (with
a Sasmpan Tour), the obligatory jewelleryfactory tour, lunch at
a restaurant in Kowloon, a trip up a big hill in Kowloon, a visit
to another big temple, and finished up with Mong Kok bird market.
There was a big demand to see in the Mong Kok stadium too, but the
security guard gave our guide the brush off (much to mine and Helen’s
amusement). The highlights had to be the lunch, which provided no
knives or forks, and led to Ali Martin getting more on the table
than down his throat, and the trip through the Aberdeen Tunnel,
which has a scoreboard tracking how many road deaths there’s
been (our guide was in his element!). I’ve absolutely no idea
what happened on the Wednesday night, but it’s a fair bet
that whilst everyone else was out partying until the crack of dawn,
I was fatigued due to the humidity and had an early night!
Anyway, come Thursday, come the final match, against a “Hong
Kong XI” – so not even an official international! We
kicked off the day in the cool, air-conditioned climes of Caledonia,
which was surprisingly quite (but then, the rugby shirts had all
but sold out by now), and then headed by cab straight up to the
ground. It wasn’t just us feeling the heat – a full
camera crew were laid out on the steps leading to the turnstiles,
paralysed by the heat. As we milled outside the ground, picking
up some souvenir posters, we encountered a local dressed in a Middlesbrough
shirt, and after we made our way into ground, I bumped into Eric
(from the sandwich shop), now proudly sporting a China shirt. The
game against the Hong Kong XI was little more than a formality –
an easy 4-0 win marked by Kevin Kyle’s first Scotland goal
– and we viewed it from the low-set seats behind the goal
(visible on the telly and everything!). Despite our best intentions
to stay and watch the South Africa – Turkey game, we surrendered
to the heat, and along with various other miscreants, made our way
back down to civilisation.
We were struck by the same indifference to beer, even when we were
in Joe Bananas (where everyone dances on the bar), and Helen struck
on the brainwave to go up Victoria Peak and see the cityscape in
the dark. Whilst still stiflingly humid, the air was slightly cooler
and fresher up the peak, and riding the tram was an unforgettable
experience. Once back down, we finished off with a couple of cold
Corona’s down in Caledonia, where we had a decent chat with
Iain, the manager.
Our flight home was on the Friday night, but Scott had negotiated
an extra night’s stay in the hotel, meaning we could keep
the room until the evening. We took advantage of this by getting
up late, then headed over to the Island intending to go up the tallest
tower – unfortunately, post-September 11th, this was no longer
an option, however Ally and Sue, on a similar mission, had managed
to get up the Bank of China tower in Central. Helen and I headed
back to Kowloon from Wan Chai, then explored the streets immediately
north of the hotel, discovering a whole street of quaint bars and
restaurants, as well as picking up various tat in the local shops.
Scott had also arranged with the same minibus company to take us
back to the airport, so we were able to get an update on how the
road deaths had panned out over the past few days from the guide!
On arrival at the airport, everyone else headed for the Virgin check-in
desks, whilst we had the relative luxury of an empty Cathay desk
to check in to (although the errant James McFadden also turned up
on our flight!) – Ali Marin, on the other hand, had to enter
negotiations with the ticket people, as his plane ticket had been
lost when his sporran had burst earlier in the week.
The flight home pretty much summed up the whole trip for me –
too hot, too stuffy, no sleep, and no will to drink! How one of
the best Scotland trips of all time (according to most who were
present) turned into living hell for me is anyone’s guess,
but at least I enjoyed Korea!