How would you like to view this page?  
 
Home colours (striking white on navy) Away colours (bigger navy text on a white page - easy read version)
 

Jump To:

See Also:

 

 

The Arrival

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.

Back to top

The First Game

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.

Back to top

In-between Days

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!

Back to top

The last game

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!

Back to top

HK Gallery 1

HK Gallery 2

HK Gallery 3

HK Gallery 4

HK Gallery 5


Text Links: [HOME] [BASICS] [INFO & NEWS] [TRAVEL] [INTERACTIVE] [MEMORIES] [FUN] [NETLEY GUIDE] [TARTAN ARMY] [SITE MAP]

Search NATA Online: powered by FreeFind
 

Copyright notice: All photographs on this site are the property of individual members of the Netley Abbey Tartan Army unless otherwise stated. The copyright of these images remains with the individual possessing the photographic negatives, and permission should ideally be sought before copying them. We are keen to prevent anyone from making financial gain from our copyrighted images, or bringing the reputation of the Netley Abbey Tartan Army into disrepute (as we are more than capable of doing this ourselves).
If anyone does wish to use these images and would like express written consent to do so, please e-mail Paul Allison using via the contact page.
© Netley Abbey Tartan Army, 2001-2008 (and beyond...)