Blanchard's Oriental Travel Journal

Flying into Kai Tek on sundown, why the white ghosts are becoming lonely ghosts as the ticker counts down in Tianneman Square, being outstared by Japanese carp, and why you should always avoid poison arrows.

Sunday 23rd October 1995, Kai Tek Airport, Hong Kong

I always try to fly into Hong Kong around sundown. One of the great views of the world must be flying into Hong Kong as the sun sets over the South China Sea and the lights start to illuminate all the apartment windows and the neon starts flashing on Hong Kong Island and Kowloon. Tonight was no exception. The steep right hand turn to line up with the runway and the fast deceleration as the captain tries desperately to avoid us disembarking into Hong Kong harbour. While Penang in Malaysia has stolen the term, it is never so obvious when flying into Hong Kong why this place deserves to be called "The Pearl of the Orient".

Just as predictable as that feeling you get when you fly in, is the lines at immigration. Now I'm no racist, but I've worked out that the quickest way to get to the counter is to disregard the length of the queue and note the number of Anglo-Saxons in front of you. To people who are discriminated against by the policy of using English as the language on immigration forms, the gweilos get through first because they tend not to make too many mistakes. One person who has to fill in their form again can add 10 minutes onto your wait. So I scuttle for the closest aforesaid queue, failing to notice the 3 very short Filipino girls at the front who were obviously arriving for a stint of GRO duties. 25 minutes later and I was through immigration.

A notice on the counter had apologised for any delays because of the installation of the new computer system. Again, computers hinder rather than help.

At the airport to meet me as always was Ted Khoo, and again as always looking dapper in his tailored suit so ubiquitous among the Chinese in Hong Kong. Down the lift to the carpark, into the BMW and out of the airport facing one of those biggest neon signs in the world. The Double Happiness sign. Hong Kong is a place where restraints on cigarette advertising are not yet evident. In 30 minutes I had booked into the New Astor Hotel at Tsim Sha Tsui and was having a coffee and catching up with events of the last 4 months or so. Again the same complaints...rents were still as high as ever, people were holding onto their money in the uncertainty in the lead up to 1997.

A quick cab ride and we were once again in one of my favorite Teo-chew restaurants in Hong Kong, sipping on Chinese tea and watching the bustle around me. No English menus here in evidence so I let Ted do all the ordering. Seems the restaurant, of which Ted was a part owner was suffering a down turn in trade as more people stayed home to eat rather than go out. The usually omnipresent rattling of the Mahjong tiles from the adjacent rooms was missing being a Sunday night.

Monday 24th October 1995, New Astor Hotel, Tsim Sha Tsui, Hong Kong

Thanks to an enormous convention being held in Hong Kong, all my normal hotels were booked out so I'm here at about 250 US a night. The only room available in town the travel agents tell us. Hong Kong must have the most flexible room rates in the world, apart from them being uniformly expensive anyway. This hotel is fine though. The Tsim Sha Tsui MTR is right outside the foyer, and the room is standard Hong Kong fare. However the service is so-so, with the usual complimentary pot of Chinese tea missing. An air of quiet desperation seems to pervade this place at present. First my old pal Frank told me that his business was just surviving with the down turn in optimism leading up to 1997 and I met an ex employee of one of Hong Kong's oldest and best known trading companies who lost his job amongst the move to what some of my country men call "Ethnic Cleansing". The top jobs are all going to Mandarin speakers with influence in the mainland as companies ready themselves for the inevitable. The gweilos are a worried lot at present and today, to tell the truth has been quite depressing. Come 1998 and the gweilos around here are going to be truly lonely ghosts...and hungry as well.

Hong Kong now is all about China. It is the most sensible place to be for those wanting to expand into China, but the cost is high. It is becoming more clear that the only sensible reason for basing oneself here now is the China market. Others seems to be heading for Singapore.

The meetings went averagely well. My suit looked increasingly tired amongst the company of all these resplendent suits as I sat on the 30th floor of the Wing On centre surveying the traffic on the harbour during a break in negotiations with the group here. Mr. Tan has always been a severe man, with enormous self-discipline apart from the 2 packets of cigarettes he smokes each day. He has always trimmed by commissions to the bone and today he is even more reticent. In good Fung Shui, he has placed me with my back to the door ready to be stabbed in the back and facing the poison arrow of a strange looking sculpture in the corner. A born negotiator, Mr Tan knows the secrets of silence. He uses it well. Sometimes he just stares at me, taps his fingers on the table and takes a long drag from those cigarettes of his. Occasionally, he talks in Mandarin to one of his 3 smiling associates who are well placed just behind him, and well out of the way of the poison arrow. The 3 solitary golden carp swam lazily around his aquarium.

"Mr. Blanchard..", he whispered in his gravelly voice between drags, "We think we will continue using your services for one more year, just send me your plan and we will consider it.."

Much relieved I thanked him and gave him the Blanchard smile, promising it would be on his desk by mid December. Raising his eyebrows he demurred that that may well be a bit too late for his liking and the carp opened and closed their mouths seemingly to agree.

I suddenly felt tired of all this as well as the bloody poison arrow in the corner and moved my chair to the side as stood up so that the rays from the sculpture would miss me completely, hit the back of my repositioned chair and deflect back to the aquarium. "Im sorry, that is quite out of the question", I responded. The carp closed their mouths and retreated to the back of the tank, their fins wagging behind them. Mr. Tan opened and closed his mouth in a creditable imtation of his carp, and looked slightly anxious for the first time.

And then I made my leave, relieved at leaving the poison arrow and those golden carp behind me. This Fung Shui stuff, I have no hack with, but why it always puts me at dis-ease when I know its stacked against me I have no idea. It is well known that the Hong Kong bank employs at least 5 full time Fung Shui masters to advise. Maybe I have to learn a bit more about this stuff

Wednesday 26th October 1995, New Astor Hotel, Tsim Sha Tsui, Hong Kong

Raining all day but the MTR came to my rescue. Rain in Bangkok, KL, Jakarta and Manila often spells the end to two or three meetings as traffic snarls to a halt, but Hong Kong's underground solves much of this. Tonight a refined dining experience at the Shangri-La Island restaurant. The service as always exceptional, followed by fairly pedestrian jazz on top of the hotel next door. Then a quick trip to downtown Wanchai and Jo Bananas, always an expat hang out, but very depressing today again. Ten minutes here and we decided to move onto the disco down the road for a final night cap. Again, no inspiration here and I made it back here in 15 minutes door to door. One thing about this place..it has location. Only Mandarin on the TV, apart from a scratchy version of Top Gun.

So-so day....