I woke up early to the sound of jackhammers (no surprise there) and dodged the dried seafood delivery carts to make my way to Tung Chung, near the airport. After talking private jets with the director of the aviation association, I managed to fit in some express discount outlet shopping in my lunch break, and then sped to the Intercontinental hotel, where I made my way past the grand fountains and over the marble floors to pick up a bottle of perfume that hasn't been launched yet but had been delivered from Europe for me at reception.
I then grabbed a red taxi through the tunnel under the water between Kowloon and HK, spent a couple of hours in the office, and then made my way to the giant phallic powerhouse that is the ifc to sign my visa papers at Krusty's office.
We then zoomed down to meet a wholesaler gem dealer to negotiate our wedding rings, then up again to the roof for a press event, where one girl was smiling so genuinely at us that we went over to chat - turns out she is from Ballymoney, the tiny town where Krusty grew up, and that they went to the same school, where her mother actually taught Krusty maths. It's a teeny, tiny world.
We couldn't chat for too long, though, as we were awaited in Happy Valley for a night at the races. We were there to meet two friends, but as soon as we got in we started bumping into people we knew, and it seems every single one of our acquaintances was there, hoping to win big on their horse of choice, or at least win enough to pay for another pitcher of beer.
The joyful troupe carried on through the night, but not being able to keep up the HK pace quite so much yet, Krusty and I raced home to bed, ready for the next day of HK madness to come...
No wonder the rate of appearance of wrinkles on my face has grown exponentially...
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