I didn’t much like Hong Kong the last time I came. I suppose that’s because I was on one of those endless cycles of Airport – Office – Hotel that seemed to define my working life. But also I seem to have a particular aversion to Colonies and the like. Jersey, Bermuda, Hong Kong all are condensed, no crushed, into a cube so that all the colours and materials are mashed together without necessarily bearing any resemblance or kinship. Bits of cultures and histories seem to me to be a giant car crash that have become a playground for the rich and an ‘opportunity’ for aspiring others. Or much worse.

But my heart has softened today, and the romantic in me has taken over. Last night the yellow, red and green fireworks in the bay were graceful while a flotilla of boats out at midnight jockeyed for position close by. On the pavements thousands of people thronged and cheered their way through the night. Oh and we pampered decadent tourists sat in our room together with our jet lag, on Floor 18 of the great Hotel Icon, with a perfect view from our reclining chairs. Today we opted against the classical ’48 Hours in HK’ itinerary and instead went for the Orfentic Experience, taking the rusting ferry to Cheung Chau, one of the outlying islands, with locals by the thousand, to watch fishermen dry their catch in the sun, to eat outlandish fish lunches in groups of 10 or 20, and to eat quayside delicacies such as mango buns or fried doughnuts. As is our wont, we walked away toot sweet from the main drag round the northern hills of the island, watching the kites work the thermals, to a restful pagoda on the northern rim, and then to an old temple filled with wafting incense  and smoke, and beautiful enamel dragons and tigers. So many people stopped to wish us a Happy New Year all day that it felt like a personal welcome.

Tomorrow afternoon we leave for Ozland, but it feels as if the adventure started today. See you in Sydney!

ps Happy New Year peoples, wherever you are!