Sunday, May 30, 2010

Night vision










Paintings by Yu Qiping either side of the double doors leading to the drawing room



As our time for refuge in Hong Kong draws to a close we have chosen to ignore the temptations of the city's bustling night life, in favour of quiet nights (and days) at the beautiful house where we are staying.

Our host who has gone away on a business trip invited us to use the place as our own, and suggested we gave a party. This gesture is both kind and generous, but with new staff having only begun employment the day we arrived, embarking on such a venture would be quite onerous, with knowledge of where things are not yet what it should be. So we've selfishly decided to make use of it by ourselves alone.

During the day we only seemed to have strayed away to enjoy the long walks on some of the many hiking trails close to the house. This morning's walk included the one we used to traverse from our flat, when we lived here ten years ago, so it was a trip down memory lane, and included the reminder of one of the less attractive aspects of life here: overpopulation. The weather was also that very unattractive steam bath, which eventually gave way to rain. However, luckily our timing was perfect, ensuring we returned just before a terrific downpour.

Sundays here are best enjoyed when the only member of the household's staff is the Gurkhali guard. As a favour to my host, I agreed to show the new maid the ropes about how best to manage her tasks. We were familiar with the previous maid and she with us, but she has returned to her native Philippines, and there was no overlap between old and new. The training sessions are therefore proving somewhat frustrating, in not knowing exactly the preferred programme of daily requirements, and whether they would match my own in a similar situation.

Ah well, silver polishing, shirt-folding and how to roast a chicken seem to be new skills that I have passed on. If there was more time my buttling skills could be admired for a lifetime.

Now there's a thought.

Friday, May 28, 2010

Here be dragons








Our retreat from Bangkok has been enjoyed at this mountainous lair, with its garden filled with amusing and thoughtful design. On some days we have enjoyed beautiful sunny weather with low humidity. On others the curse of the Hong Kong spring - the increasing humidity when the seasons haven't quite made up their minds. It matters very little in this peaceful setting.

We are almost ready to return to the Land of Smiles, but there are now a few loose ends to tie up here, including catching up with old friends. Happily the environment in Bangkok appears to be calm, so we are hoping this will prevail.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Roll model



A bit of light relief from The Telegraph today, in the inimitable style of London's mayor Boris Johnson:

Boris Johnson's role model
Never mind what Lord Heseltine called the "nattering nabobs of negativism", Boris Johnson says Britain will pull through the economic crisis, thanks to the entrepreneurial spirit of its people.
As the Mayor of London says: "Only the other day, I heard of a woman – a woman with two daughters, at that – who, of her own volition, managed to pull off a deal worth £500,000 to put a businessman in touch with the Duke of York."

Monday, May 17, 2010

Interruption of normal broadcasting


Troops on Sathorn Road, at the entrance of our soi, (driveway). No traffic, and razor wire roadblocks. Saturday 15 May.




The soi from the condo, looking towards Sathorn Road. The Metropolitan Hotel on the left, The Banyan Tree on the right.



Soi from Sathorn Road towards the condo (1) above and (2) below


The situation in Bangkok has become increasingly difficult over recent days. On Friday we heard gunfire in the main road that connects to our soi, (lane), above. At night there was repeated gunfire, and we could see a fire burning in front of the Australian Embassy, which is situated very close by. This, like the surrounding Malaysian, German and French embassies joined the decision by the United States, British, Japanese and Dutch Embassies in the connecting road north, to close.

On Saturday we began to examine Plan B very closely, and this meant making the necessary financial arrangements to ensure utilities would keep running during a prolonged absence. In retrospect, it's strange how one develops a plan. In doing so we came across this contingent of soldiers in our soi, resting from the night time shooting activities. We also encountered a limousine from one of the nearby hotels returning on the empty main road and asked the driver if it would be possible to hire him to take us to the airport.

We then returned to the apartment to determine how best to proceed and to weigh up the fear and shock we were feeling at the deteriorating situation with the practicality of evacuation. This process was not assisted by a shocking cold that left me unable to plan with my usual military precision. Even the fairly mundane task of packing a suitcase seemed beyond my faculties, as it was not clear where we were headed, how long it would be for, or any factors of certainty.

By the the early afternoon and evening we had packed luggage for an anticipated departure to Scotland, and resolved to leave within a few days, in the hope that the situation in our immediate vicinity would have stabilised enough to allow us to get transport from our building to the airport. As I mentioned, the main road had been closed, and the army were agreeing to allow cars to enter on a case by case basis, but it would be very unlikely to be able to persuade anyone, (like our limousine service) to do so for fear of being caught in the crossfire.

On Sunday morning I went down to the soi and the soldiers were again resting from their overnight skirmishes with Red protesters, which appeared to centre around a petrol station nearby. In conversations with various people and through our security staff I understood that no cars would now be permitted to enter the main road, so we were effectively cut off. There were also rumours that a curfew would shortly be imposed. So we resolved there and then to evacuate immediately, and were grateful for having tied up the immediate loose ends, such as packing etc, so that this could be achieved expeditiously.

We then dragged our luggage through a battle scarred pavement, (with the remnants of smashed telephone kiosks, burnt out tyre residue etc), to a road where we were told we should be able to find a taxi. Happily there was one there, and several people willing to help load the suitcases. The money the driver required was inflated but reasonable and I was prepared to pay a lot more. I was also asked for money from the luggage helpers, and happily obliged. We then sped off to the airport at high speed.

Ironically within a short time we were outside of the area currently affected by the troubles; a tale of two cities indeed. At the airport we purchased tickets, and decided on Hong Kong, (for which we have permanent residence status) as our immediate destination, where we arrived last night, to stay with our old friend in his beautiful house on the Peak. The silence is almost deafening, and I slept deeply, overcoming the huge sense of shock that I must have experienced yesterday. 

As I mentioned, our initial plan was to fly to Scotland, but we learned on Saturday night that the Icelandic volcanic ash cloud was likely to cause the closure of UK airports, and indeed that has now occurred. Our hesitation and my cold at least prevented us embarking on a flight that would in all likelihood have had to return.

Immediate plans are of course uncertain, as we try to monitor the situation, but at least we can now plan them in an atmosphere of calm and safety, and happily, luxury too. For those who have sent their good wishes, I am very grateful. I will post from time to time, as and when.

Now more than when I last posted - Rest and be thankful.

Friday, May 7, 2010

Rest and be thankful

Maurice Prost (1894 - 1967), Paris. Panther, c. 1928. H. 30 cm; 63 x 9 cm. Made by Susse Freres, Paris. Bronze with black patina, slate base. Sold for EUR7,100.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Someone to watch over me


This rather imposing but happy Buddha has been watching over us during our visit to the island of Samet,


whilst we stayed in a cabin


by the beach


with this view from our breakfast table

Today, back in the big smoke, the lyrics from a song in South Pacific have been adapted to:
 Gotta wash that sand right outta my hair, whilst we reacclimate to life in the city. A glimmer of hope in the ongoing impasse materialised last night, so we are hoping it is not another false dawn, but rather the end to the disruptions that have lasted several weeks.
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