26.5.13 - More routine, markets and multiple meanings

More routine

Claire is looking so thrilled here partly because of how absurdly and improbably long these beans are (over half a metre?!); but also because she is doing something we have had little time to do.

Cooking. In the flat.

We are trying to get some more routine into our schedule. As you may have gathered from the blog to date, we are constantly doing a hundred things at once.

This is only the second set piece meal we have eaten in the flat since arriving. Pie, mash, and incredibly long beans, watching Game of Thrones. Normality!

Well, nearly. As well as lounge about, we had gone out for lunch, Claire had gone to work for 4 hours and I’d done a 2 hour run. Maybe this is HK normal?

Markets

We also discovered today the extensive ‘covered markets’ near us. There are sets of these all over HK in municipal buildings, where the government tidied away street stalls for tidiness/cleanliness purposes a few decades ago. Nonetheless, they’ve retained their very local flavour.

Imagine Brixton covered market, with the new posh restaurants stripped out, and everyone shouting in Cantonese and you’ve got it.

We had some broken banter with the stallholders, including one who had no English at all, and got the beans, some spring onions and some potatoes for about £1.50.

Multiple meanings

Which brings on to the multiple meanings. Our Canto is coming on – taxis, basic conversation, colloquialisms to impress and get locals to laugh/be nice to us are in the armoury. My new colleagues at work are taken with my attempts to learn, and are being very encouraging (even if they do laugh at me a lot).

But the tonal thing remains baffling. There are somewhere between 6 and 9 tones in Cantonese (the fact that people can’t agree on that shows its complexity), which makes learning vocab tough. The variations in tone to a western ear are so subtle that I often cannot make out the difference.

I have tried to explain this to our Canto-speaking acquaintances by asking them to say ‘800 white pens’, which comes out as “Ba ba ba ba”, with different tones and slight hints at the end of each word that they end in a ‘k’ or a ‘t’.

Other good recent pitfalls include:

Chicken – in a slightly different tone, it’s also the word for prostitute. Awk. Ward.

Tong – means TONS of things:

-          And

-          Sugar

-          When combined with ‘see’, colleagues.

-          Gather

-          Take

-          Pass or card

Green beans – and today we learned green beans are ‘ching dao’. Which sounds almost exactly the same as the pronunciation for the Chinese beer Tsingtao. But has a slightly bugger emphasis on the ‘a’ for the bean version.

And when we suggested it sounds like the beer to the stallholder in the market, he looked at us like we were idiots.

Good fun to learn. Bloody hard work.

23.5.13 - A black night - the umbrella says it all

We spotted this parasol when the Adcocks were here. It caused great hilarity, and makes me chuckle every time I look at it...however, as you can see, it was inappropriately sunny when this photo was taken.

So I decided to wait until we got our first serious rain storm to use it. I tempted fate.

Hong Kong has official classifications for very heavy rain falls. Old hands, who told tales of the worst sky-dumps with relish, tell me that this system was one of several measures enacted in the 80s to try to react better to storms, in the wake of some landslips, drownings and road pile-ups. Amber rain is heavier than anything I’ve seen in the UK; red soaks you to the skin in seconds; and black is indescribably heavy. Businesses and public transport shut up shop, and everyone buckles down to ride it out.

Our first bout of black rain ripped into HK around 4am, battering us into consciousness. Thunder so loud you could feel it rumbling in the walls or resonating in your chest. Blinding, constant lightning flashes - somewhere over 7000 lightning strikes in 3 hours. And rain so heavy that, on the flat roof of our spare bedroom, it made a noise somewhere between a stadium-sized crowd cheering and TV static running through heavy-duty amps.

We lay in awe and awake in the dark, unable to sleep, not knowing disaster was looming.

I got up around 6am to go to the loo. On peeking through our curtains, I was horrified to see that our 1000sq foot terrace, which is around 15cm below the level of our front room, was full to the brim like an enormous paddling pool. And filling fast.

Cue frantic action. We had no sandbags – even though the flat was known, we heard later, to flood in black rains – and no time to try to stem the tide. We had about 90 seconds to scoop up our new curtains, stack all wooden furniture onto the sofa and unplug the electrics.

And then there was nothing more to do than stand helplessly back and watch as water oozed under the patio doors and snaked across the flat.

Below is me moments later assessing the situation outside. I would love to say I donned this T-shirt in a triumphal moment of British sang froid, but I’m afraid I just snatched it out of the nearest drawer…

19.5.13 - Underpants, Karaoke and Double-entendres

Welcome to the first post-guy tai blog entry! I plan to make these a little longer, but still no more than 400 words and I shall try not to waffle.

This one focuses on my trip to Beijing on day one of the Consular job. The FCO writes briefs to London in a distinctive style – 4-line punchy intro; 1-page facts, figures and dispassionate narrative; then commentary. So to practice, this whole blog will be in the style of the second basket…

Underpants

Upon arrival in Beijing, the author made his way from the MTR station to his hotel via the pictured building.

This building is known locally as the ‘underpants’ building. The ressemblance is not self-evident, and thus the reasons for this nickname remain are unclear. It is the HQ of China’s state run television network. The network is called China Central Television. Or CCTV.

Karaoke

The author gleaned a great deal on the different approaches to doing karaoke on mainland China.

In the UK, karaoke is typically carried out by groups that are (deliberately) heavily influenced by alcohol; the group will sing many songs all together; most of the singers will take on songs they are incapable of singing; and the quality is (knowingly) poor.

In mainland China, karaoke is undertaken earlier in the evening. Most participants will only have had one or two drinks, and some none at all. Drunkenness at karaoke is not frowned upon, rather unheard of. Dedicated participants attend karaoke bars on Sunday mornings in order to rehearse. Singers usually, though not always, sing alone and with significant seriousness. Others will listen intently, and applaud if they approve. The catalogue of songs is unfamiliar to a western audience, e.g. no Frank Sinatra or Beatles, but several 1970s Chinese state propaganda songs. The author’s poor singing, after a long search through the catalogue, baffled his audience.

Double entendre souvenirs

At the airport, the usual souvenirs one finds in such terminals were apparent – sweets, alcohol, cultural trinkets and clothing. The airport had branched out into more western-style clothing souvenirs that constitute, on a plain background, “I [heart-shape] [place name]”. Well-known examples include “I [heart] LA” for Los Angeles; “I [heart] NY” for New York.

The author noted that Beijing airport had aimed to enter this trend. This is modelled below. It appeared to have been sold without irony.

14.5.13 - Guy Tai takes a bow. But keptman will soldier on.

Passport with my e-ticket to Beijing on top of a world map next to China…

Today’s entry goes up on the day that I cease to be a kept man and actually start bringing in the bacon. Well, some bacon. Temporarily.

Anyway, the point is this – the daily blog will cease for a while. There are three main reasons for this:

1-      I don’t think I will consistently have time to work, socialise, exercise and do this every day. I don’t want to set myself up for a fall.

2-      It will get less considered and dashed off; plus the pictures will likely become more boring. “Here’s me, looking a bit sweaty in my work clothes on the commute. Again”.

3-      I wouldn’t want to accidentally write an ill-thought out blog, that may cause professional embarrassment…!

But don’t fret!

I will still do 2 or 3 a week, I hope, and post when they are up on facebook. I have hugely enjoyed doing it, and I think it’s really helped family and friends stay in touch with what we’re up to.

Some stats to end…

 5902 page views – almost 80/day

“Hong Kong Housewife” and “Business. But no class” are the most read, with over 60 reads each. Seems the early days were the glory days.

39% of you look at it on iPhones. To those of you – hope you’re enjoying your journey to work…

As well as the UK (vast majority) and Hong Kong, and some expected places – Singapore (thanks Charis), Brazil (Jo and Adam holiday?!) – there are a few leftfield pages views. So here’s a shout out to my Russian, German, Spanish, Swiss and Korea readers!

13.5.13 - The doggy with five colours in its hair

I have spotted so many dogs I’ve wanted to get a snap of and failed that I’ve lost count. Claire managed to get this one, where I have failed.

What a sight. It’s hilarious, clearly, but also terrifically weird. Why would you do this to a dog? How do you do this to a dog [there must be salons somewhere]?

Let me share with you’re the pictureless sights I’ve gasped and guffawed at regarding HK’s canines. Dogs wearing jackets/shirts – not like the ones to keep dogs warm at in the UK. It’s hot here. They have been fashion statements. Dogs wearing hats. Dogs wearing SHOES for goodness sake, SHOES! And not functional protective booties, but things that recognisably look like shoes.

I make no secret of the fact that I find this all very odd and in poor taste – but hey, cultural difference etc, someone from the UK can hardly point the finger of ‘weird pet habits’.

It’s not all laughs, though. Pets are dolled up and made out to be toys. I am told this means they are often not looked after properly, or abandoned if they cease to be cute enough. Even, apparently, it is possible here to get cosmetic surgery performed to make your dog more ‘adorable’. That said, this dog looked very cheerful, well-fed and responsive to its own commands to sit. So funny, yes, but there is certainly a dark side here.

* Keeping the blog topical, with a reference to a McFly song that must almost be 10 years old. Contemporary or what?

12.5.13 - Sporting Family on the hash

We will be doing our best to get every visitor along to at least one hash (be warned!), and we made a great start with the Adcock clan.

Nic and Cathy came along for what turned out to be the Mother’s Day hash, as HK uses the American date to celebrate this. This meant a bumper turn-out, and great excitement from the regular hash ladies that Claire had brought her mum along especially.

Claire and Nic treated the hash like a hike rather than a run, which worked rather well, as the trail obligingly went over all sorts of terrain, up and down steep-ish hills, scrambling about rocks and muddy patches and crossing a stream.

The picture that will eventually appear here is the post-run shot. I apologise in advance from exposing you all to my ludicrously hairy self, but the humidity has really ramped up – when the run was done I physically wrung streams of water out of my shirt. Eurgh. The girls, however, are looking remarkably better turned out than me. And managed to keep their tops on (sorry, the Wan Chai spirit of casual innuendo is catching…)

The Adcocks took the Circle sportingly, although it was a particularly cringeworthy one even by the Wan Chai hash standards (see last week’s post!). It’s particularly painful to watch first-timers get hauled into the circle and, for reasons that escape me, asked when they last had sex (sorry Nic). Even Cathy suffered a few fines despite coming along to hold the fort when we were out on trail, but she took these in her stride. Partly by delegating the alcoholic side of the fines to me.

What a good son-in-law…?

11.5.13 - Yeah, I guess it is a pretty big buddha...but seriously, check out this nescafé!

We’re at a touristy spot. Prime set-piece photo location. We have guests. That can only mean one thing. It’s posing po-faced with a nescafé o’clock!

So here’s Nic in front the enormous Buddha out on Lantau, looking admirably serious given how hard she found it to suppress her laughter.

This is a tourist must-do whilst here according to the guidebooks, as it’s a full day out. You grab a cable car that holds some record or other (Longest? Longest in Asia? Longest with glass bottomed cars?), which hoists you up from sea level to the top of a mountain, over a bay. Very impressive. Then there’s the whole tourist apparatus – kitsch shops, restos galore, walks, a monastery and of course the Buddha itself.

Imagine my shock, nay, indignation then when it turns out that while the monastery is pretty old the Buddha was airlifted there in the 1980s to create a tourist spot. Cynical, much?! People do go to pray at it, and the monks do many devotional things with it still, but that strikes me as odd – like building a new cathedral in Mediaeval style just for tourists in the UK.

Unexpected happening of the day – the monastery’s Shaolin monks turned out to be the kind that do martial arts as part of their devotions. And put on a rather odd, but awesomely frightening show – whirling swords, whirring nunchuks and ample ‘HIII-EEE-YAH!’-ing. Photo two is the burliest, strongest monk snapping a bamboo stave over a colleague’s arm. Ouch.

10.5.13 - The sign that lies (and the arrival of the Adcocks)

The event of the 10^th was the arrival of Nicola and Cathy for a good 9-day stint in Hong Kong – welcome to our second and third guests! However, you will probably get plenty of photos of them over the next few days; and the ones we got on our first night showed the group posing with gin/cocktails, which were neither exciting nor flattering.

Furthermore, as you can tell from the photo, I got a chance to get a game of cricket in…at the beautiful Hong Kong Cricket Club itself, featured in glowing terms previously.

Thanks to Richard again for putting me onto his friend John who plays for the University, because he thought to ask me to step in when HKU was short.

In short – the game reached 19 overs before rain stopped play (and this sign stayed up to taunt us for hours), but I did get a bat and notched up 15. Not bad.

The rain threatened all day. Annoyingly for a cricket ground, the bowl of hills and its altitude mean that when rain arrives it tends to ‘settle’ and not stop until it is rained out.

Or so say the old hands. The weather here, in truth, is so wildly unpredictable that the forecasts change by the hour and are seldom correct. Instead, much faith is put in intuition, especially from those who have been around longest and therefore ‘just know’  – cue much squinting at the sky, sniffing the air, feeling the humidity, sucking of teeth and finally proclaiming, witch-doctor-like, “Hmm, I think this is in for the day”.

09.5.13 - Hello, I'm strong like the cypress tree

I think I may have mentioned already about Canto speakers taking on a second English name of their choosing. Many of these names have led to, quite harsh, mirth on our part – I promise to do a future blog about that.

It turns out that English-speakers should do the same in reverse.

Claire and I were unilaterally given names by our teacher. Mine was Ah-Lek. This means something akin to ‘clever’. I was a little uncomfortable (“Hello, I’m Barry, and you?”  “Oh hi, my name’s brainbox”), but she was persuasive that this was fine.

Imagine my discomfort when I first told this name to a Canto speaker and they burst out laughing. It was how Claire and I had reacted to a shop attendant called “Legend”. Was my name equally bad?!

And so, when I received an email from the Consulate asking for my Chinese name for my business cards…I told them Ah-Lek but, feeling very disloyal to our teacher, explained how I had cold feet about it.

My new boss outsourced the answer to her Canto-speaking staff. They had a chat about it, and decided that Ah-Lek was indeed not right.

So now, when I introduce myself in Cantonese, I shall henceforth be what is phonetically written ‘Bak Kin’. This is as close to Patrick as they could find, and ‘very auspicious’. The closest translation is, apparently, ‘strong like the cypress tree’.

Which they assured me was very auspicious. Fingers crossed when I tell the next Canto stranger this new name, they don’t howl with laughter…

08.5.13 - Oo heui ying gok leng see goon jo yeh!

This is my probably inaccurate (apologies to any Canto speakers) phonetic rendering of the phrase – “I’m going to work at the English Consulate!”*

A fortuitous aligning of the stars for both me and the Consulate – the Consulate had a sudden interim vacancy come up in their political and economic team last week. The head of the team knew the vacancy had to be filled temporarily or the team would be unable to function…but who on earth do I know, she asked herself, that has worked in the civil service, has worked with Ministers, who is in HK and free right now?

That’ll be me!

2-3 months of work for the FCO begins next Weds with a conference in Beijing (!), and then holding the fort until a full-time person is found, including several Ministerial visits to HK.

Four big benefits of this:

1)      Familiar-ish territory to kick off HK working life

2)      But pretty different to what I’ve done before - great for CS CV

3)      Once you have had one post in HK, everyone keeps telling me, it gets much easier to get more work. I already have some verbal agreements to offer me contract work as soon as this post is done

4)      Some money earned.

*On the translation, we are greatly enjoying slowly learning Canto. It had a completely different structure and logic to it, which sometimes is much more sensible than English. So this sentence literally, character by character, means “I go English neck matters hall [the logic for that is a bit unclear] do thing!”

07.5.13 - How did Claire get her hash name? A twerk of fate...

Let me set the scene by telling you a little more about the Wan Chai hash.

Each hash has a distinct character. Wan Chai’s is very clear. It was founded in the late 70s on Sunday afternoons by expat middle-aged men in order to meet young Filipinas, whose day off is Sunday. Year one yielded 7 marriages and the hash still has many such couples.

Creepy? Perhaps sometimes, but the hash has a fun vibe; no-one is forced to go; and we are talking marriages, not some kind of running-cum-swinging club.

Nonetheless. This lends the hash a carry on, sexual innuendo-laden air that would be condemned as misogynistic at home.

So!

That is why a fine relating to ‘twerking’ occurred. Twerking is a dance-craze (youtube it) based on shaking the bottom in a bouncing motion, causing it to wobble and jiggle. One of the convenors had found out about it, and asked for 3 ladies to demonstrate. He picked two of the most attractive Filinpinas, and dragged Claire up to make up the racial quota as an also-ran…so he thought.

Determined not to be shown up and be a good sport, on request Claire went for it. The tiny Filipinas were blown out of the water, to hoots of surprise and uncomfortably salacious delight. Her strong dancer’s legs meant she bounced in a way that can only be described (sorry parents) as mesmerisingly pneumatic.

And so, in a trice, a name was born. A play on words with her twerking prowess and role as breadwinner to my Guy Tai, Claire was christened under the baptysmal beer as Shake Your Moneymaker.

06.5.13 - May the farce be with you

Yesterday’s Wan Chai hash provided two stories that are blogworthy. Here’s number 1.

At the end of each hash there is a university-rugby-club-esque event called The Circle, where the convenors of the run, committee members and people from the ‘floor’ can put people forward for fines. These usually consist of a smallish cup of beer…which is not so bad, unless you happen to get multiple fines.

The Wan Chai hash is one of the more inventive. The usual things come up – screwing up the run, complaining, saying something daft, forgetting some kit, etc. But they also do bizarre researched fines, involving stuff going on in the news, and will find someone with a very tenuous link to it to fine – e.g. a huge fire breaks out in an HK this week; anyone living near-ish to where it happened is fine for ‘being a pyromaniac’.

Sunday was, apparently, Star Wars day. And so, the circle delighted in finding people to put into our very own Star Wars cast to fine.

The picture is probably a giveaway, but after the comedy ones were given out, we still needed a Luke Skywalker. It gives you a detailed view of the demographic of the Wan Chai hash – the number of women runners and the age profile of the chaps – that after an awkward search of those present, they had practically no choice age-wise than to settle on me.

Oh dear.

I have been compared to Mister Bean and to Jack Dee many a time – not very attractive figures. So Luke Skywalker makes a refreshing change.

Yesterday’s Wan Chai hash provided two stories that are blogworthy. Here’s number 1.

At the end of each hash there is a university-rugby-club-esque event called The Circle, where the convenors of the run, committee members and people from the ‘floor’ can put people forward for fines. These usually consist of a smallish cup of beer…which is not so bad, unless you happen to get multiple fines.

The Wan Chai hash is one of the more inventive. The usual things come up – screwing up the run, complaining, saying something daft, forgetting some kit, etc. But they also do bizarre researched fines, involving stuff going on in the news, and will find someone with a very tenuous link to it to fine – e.g. a huge fire breaks out in an HK this week; anyone living near-ish to where it happened is fine for ‘being a pyromaniac’.

Sunday was, apparently, Star Wars day. And so, the circle delighted in finding people to put into our very own Star Wars cast to fine.

The picture is probably a giveaway, but after the comedy ones were given out, we still needed a Luke Skywalker. It gives you a detailed view of the demographic of the Wan Chai hash – the number of women runners and the age profile of the chaps – that after an awkward search of those present, they had practically no choice age-wise than to settle on me.

Oh dear.

I have been compared to Mister Bean and to Jack Dee many a time – not very attractive figures. So Luke Skywalker makes a refreshing change.

05.5.13 - Can't all just ducking well get along?

This is not a trick of perspective. This genuinely is a massive, 6-storey high rubber duck.

It arrived in HK harbour this week, amidst much fuss and fanfare, and has been a hugely popular talking point since. As you may be able to see in one of these pictures, it attracts throngs if people near the Star Ferry, where it is moored, who come to take pictures and generally gawp. We joined the gawpers by insisting our junk on Saturday swung past it, so everyone could pose for photos. For more on the duck and a better view of it, take a look at this link… http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/video/2013/may/02/giant-rubber-duck-hong-kong-video

I was amused and a little eye-rolling to hear that the artist who created it has some fairly high-minded ideas about the significance and meaning of the massive duck. I paraphrase, but he essentially said that it is meant to show that the seas are our ‘global bath tub’, that this makes everyone family and we should all just, you know, be more responsible and, like, get along?

Please.

I really wish he’d just said – “What can I say – it’s a massive duck! It’s funny! It’s different! Who cares what it means, people love it, look at them all crowding the banks of the harbour just to stare at it! Wahey!”

Ironically, the crowds taking its picture are very jostly and keen to get the best spot. So where he tried to sow the seeds or harmony, he bred discord.

Should we, then, get rid of it? Nah, let’s not throw the duck out with our globally shared bathwater.

04.5.13 - Jungle Jane - more than just a junk

Junk trip number 2, as advertised on last Sunday’s blog...both junks have been fantastic, but very different.

The type of boat was the biggest change. Last week’s boat had plenty of covered areas, tables and seats for all and an inside area; it looked sedate and calming. You could easily do a family cruise on it.

‘Jungle Jane’ was not a junk at all, but more of an unashamed party boat. 2/3 of the boat was a large platform open to the sea at the back. No family lounging areas here. The sound system was a serious bit of kit, with speakers built into the length of the boat.

This set up leant itself to much mingling and people throwing themselves off the back/bobbing about on the floating platform the boat towed behind – which Claire is ably demonstrating above with the day’s hostess Ruth in the foreground.

We moored up near a beach on HK Island southside. Just outside the shark net. Surrounded by football-sized jellyfish. Comforting.

Highlight of the day was making new friends (“Awww, junk friend”*) who, crucially, like golf, tennis and hiking – hooray, SPORT, MORE SPORT! Event of the day was a mass exodus over the shark nets to the beach, where we played an enormous game of touch rugby. Lowlight was racing not to be last back to the boat and a) Failing and b) Swallowing some of the dubious water and needing to be helped aboard. Dignified.

*If you’ve not see the in-betweeners, that will be lost on you…!

03.5.13 - Don't mess with the old ladies of Olympic

I mentioned in one my early posts, about running on Bowen Road, that you sometime see elderly HK Chinese strolling about of a morning, gently doing some tai chi as they walk.

Since this first week, I have spotted them doing it literally all over the place, at all times of day.

I am yet to work out if it is principally more elderly HK Chinese that do it because it’s the done thing (the HK version of bowls perhaps?!), or because it’s a generational thing. I’ve see it in parks, on footpaths, in courtyards, even simply on a normal street where there is a little space. It looks very calming and dignified most of the time. Occasionally though, culturally crass as it may be, it’s tricky trying not to laugh when you see a wizened, tiny old lady making fluttering motions in the air with her hands to the tinny accompaniment of her battered radio whilst shouting “HA! HA! HA! HA!” at the top of her lungs.

These guys, though, take the biscuit. I’ve not seen them – Claire sees them every day and provided today’s picture. They turn up around 8am each morning at the Olympic building that Claire spends some of her time in, in the park right outside the HSBC buildings. They proceed to get out fans and swords (what a combination!), and whirl both around in a tai chi-esque way, female yoda-like manner.

The swords do not look like toys – they are pretty long and look quite fearsome. Don’t mess with these grannies.

02.5.13 - This is NOT an advert. Honest.

Not much going on today. Thought I’d revert to the earlier style of the blog where I take a picture of a thing, and talk about it.

This is my Garmin GPS watch (other watches are available. Hang on. This isn’t the BBC. They might be available, but I bet they’re RUBBISH), and the magic accompanying doofy that you plug into the computer.

It is a pretty incredible piece of kit to have when running, hiking and organised trail setting is a regular part of life. It doesn’t just track how far you’ve gone and how long it’s taken; it plots your route on a map (which you can send to others); keeps a tally of your pace; how high you’ve gone. A bit techy and sad I know, but it really is a marvel.

It can be a hard task master – it makes me check my pace all the time, so no slacking on flat bits. Plus, it can make you feel pretty desperate on uphill bits when you sweat for 5 minutes up a slope, and see you’ve done just 200 metres. This caused a running companion of mine on an early run to dub it the ‘Bastardometer’.

It is also gives you STATS. So I’ve run, hiked, jogged and set trail for 55 hours over 320km in the first 2 months here. I think that will more than halve once I’m working: 200 miles covered and £0 earned will become 100 miles run and £anything-at-all-is-more-than-zero.

Hopefully that day will come sooner rather than later. Watch this space.

01.5.13 - The Stroll that Broke the Dragon's Back

So, it’s a midweek public holiday. The weather has stayed surprisingly fine. What do you do?

In London, I’m fairly certain our plans would have gone something like this. Find out who is around in London out of our mates. Pick a park near someone’s house and some good bars. Go sit in said park with a ball, some booze and a picnic. Get slowly sozzled most of the day, kick the ball about, retreat to a bar when it gets chilly. Nice day, where do I sign up?

If I were to say to the same bunch of people, though, “Hey, I know. Let’s get up early, travel for an hour by tube and bus to a remote spot, and then hike and jog for a couple of hours through the forest…and then have a bite to eat and some beer. Oh, and not in the park. On a beach.”, I am sure they would think I was quite mad.

The latter is what we ended up doing here, with Claire’s colleague Connie who kindly acted as our guide. We travelled out the southeast of the island and walked a popular undulating trail called The Dragon’s Back, which ends up at a lovely beach at Big Wave Bay (I cannot fathom how it got such a complex name). Cracking day out .It’s also definitely a walk we would do again with visitors – not too taxing, but bracing enough that you earn your time lolling on the beach.

30.4.13 - Let me introduce Andy, Andy, Andy and Andy

There is an inexplicable pattern emerging in the social circle we are developing, reflected in today’s picture…

On our first night here, we met two people called Andy at a meal with a colleague of Claire’s. They in turn invited us along to a meal attended by 4 couples, where I was the only man present not called Andy. Shortly after that, we met a friend of a friend from home (who I’ve played squash etc with)…yep, also Andy. Our first junk trip last week – 2 of the 10 or so Andys on board.

The final uncanny straw came on Tuesday, when we went to the pub quiz that Claire won with ‘Team Seven’ four weeks ago. We already knew that two of the attendees were Andys, but there was a new couple we had not seen before, who had reserved the table. As soon as I saw this reservation on a table, I knew at once it had to be us. Of course.

So if in doubt, if you come to visit just call any bloke you meet ‘Andy’.

Our team was victorious once again – a relief, as if we had not been it would have felt somewhat like my fault!

You can also spot in this pic some ketchup and UK-style table nicknacks – another bonus of this pub was that it was all western food (e.g. chicken wrapped in bacon and cheese with chips). Yum.