When I get jammed into an aisle seat and told, “Aw, just put yer legs in the aisle”, coz I’m a bit tall and don’t actually fit into the standard seat-space on Qantas’s crappy Airbus shipping containers, and I get a really fat guy sitting next to me who consumes the entire volume of economy class with his ass alone, and uses my seat as a convenient repository for his corpulent forearms, and endure said pasty and hairy arm slumbering like a overturned tank of freshly-set jelly against my ribs for nine hours, I gain a very clear understanding of what it is exactly I dislike about flying. And I’m reminded of my pathological aversion to intercontinental sojourns when I arrive at Hong Hom train station in Kowloon, and discover I have a stupendously complex series of train, walk, train, walk, and finally giving up in a sweaty fit of 35kg luggage-hauling pique – taxi to get to the mid-levels, as the escalator only goes uphill after 10am. Ja, Ich bin eine Hong Kongerinnen.
After that it was all roses, even the Hong Kong winter, rainy and 12 degrees, a plunge of 25 degrees over the change of hemispheres. I was staying with John, who is Emile’s god-father and has known him since he was diminutive Latvian proto-metaller, and Bill most of the way up the mid-levels, and spent the afternoon with lit-fest slayer and all-round HK anti-ingenue and blogger, eating several return-visits of The Fringe Club’s vegetarian smorgasbord and on to a late dinner and plenty of talking and drinking and art and finally oblivion when the jet-lag pounded me insensate.
And today, I’m in Guangzhou. It’s all a bit weird and sudden and feels like an arranged marriage, and even with the appearance of a German delicatessen selling all the cheese and bread and champagne I could possibly desire in my quest to make fois gras of my liver, I think the only possible salvation in the truest Calvinist sense is through lethal amounts of art. I also promised my two dearest friends, who took me to the airport on Sunday night and fed me cheese and champagne (op.cit.) and love, I would keep them duly informed of my mis-adventures in the opium kanton, so i imagine I’ll be continuing this guileless and often asinine blathering as I get serious about playing the ingenue in Guangzhou.