14.2.14 - V Day HK

Another annual milestone. Another blog about how it’s a bit same-same-but-different over here.

I have time to write to you about it because my lovely wife is cooking a 3-course French extravaganza next door. Onion soup smell is wafting through the door…yum yum. Anyway, 3 main things to say about it:

Firstly, it appears to be something that the locals have embraced to the extent that they wish it to one another, as you would for Christmas or New Year. Or the time the chap who made our hammock emailed me to wish me Happy April Fool’s Day. Bit bizarre. Best manifestations were: at work, Claire received an email from a distant colleague saying nothing but “Happy Valentine’s Day!”. Whose first name is Funny. Well, quite. For me, it was one male local colleague buying every female in our office some chocolates in heart-shaped boxes. Which on opening turned out to be mouldy. I’ve never seen mouldy chocolate before. I wouldn’t recommend it.

Secondly, the overengineering of everything Valentines related is a thing to behold. So, were I back in Brixton and wanted to buy my lovely wife a single red rose, I would jump out of the tube and see some enterprising chap with a bucket of single roses loitering. I’d pluck one out, stem dripping along the pavement, and head home. Here, impromptu ‘pop-up’ florists appear in every mall. And the single rose – beautiful surely for its simplicity?! is:

Attached with tape to some red berries
                wedged into that foam they keep flowers in
                                Inserted into a box that has a heart-shaped hole to let the flower in
                                                Which in turn is wrapped in ribbon
                                                                and then put in a bag.
                                                                                [see picture]

And the cards. Well. The cards are pretty special. I avoided them ad bought Claire a tasteful non-Valentines number with a paper junk on. Claire embraced the madness and got the WORST card she could fid. It’s in the picture – the one that looks a bit like a seedy, dirty-handed man groping a faintly unwilling lady? Yeah, that one.

To make my point, here’s the caption in full. Look out for my favourite rhyme of ‘leashed’ with ‘feast’:

I know how your skin feels silky and smooth…
the casual, confident, way that you move
your muscles, their power and energy leashed
the way that you look at me like a feast

I love how you stand
how you walk how you flirt
your lips which are sweeter than any dessert
and how tempting it is
every time we are together
to melt into you and stay there forever.

Happy Valentine’s Day!