Monday, December 12, 2005

Monday, November 28, 2005

Sickness

I'm sick of being sick.
My body has been violated and now it's time for a regime change...
Let the antibodies do their work again. Allow me to think clearly again, lift the dark shroud...bla bla bla.
I didn't let my Strepalacoccus infection dampen my birthday celebration, which consisted of eating "fusion thai" cuisine at a restaurant named fashionably after its street number (39a Gough)with friends and colleagues (which in HK seem hard to differentiate between) and then hitting clubs. It was a great night (as far as I could remember...).
After a month of being sick, the second dose of antibiotics finally kicked in and I was on the road to recovery. That was until I decided to eat the expired yoghurt in my 'fridge with some fresh pawpaw. So then I got Gastro and fate decided I should be sick for a little longer.
Now, after a weeklong bland diet imposed by the doc (a nice chinese lady who insists on wearing sparkling diamond jewellery with her surgery issue labcoat) I think I am finally ok again.
Hong Kong world is so small yet for the moment it feels self-contained-everything is here that I could want or need within an easy distance. The cinema is popular. Kev(my "work colleague") and me went to see "Election," a really gritty Hong Kong film about Triads. HK cinema is such an intimate experience somehow because it surrounds you every day. You run into a film crew shooting a film scene or a commercial at least once a week somewhere in the streets of Central. Yesterday I found myself surrounded by olde worlde coca cola pedal carts.
Since my TV gave up I go to the cinema quite often. When I told a girl I met a few weeks back that my TV in my apartment didn't work she was mortified. The TV seems to be king here. "What about books?" I asked this girl-"do you read?" Again she was mortified. Then she smiled knowingly and said: "Every guy has at least four porno magazines in their apartment, of course you read." Well, I don't know if "Heart of Darkness" by Joseph Conrad or James' tattered "Sherlock Holmes Colected Stories" stirs my carnal appetites but maybe this girl has a more active imagination...
Good news magazine readers who want to know what is going on in the world uncensored by TimeWarner and CNN: "Der Spiegel," formally a German language-only magazine, is now in English. It's a really good read and presents alternative positions on wots going on. I like it. I have their special edition on globalisation. I've been after something like this for years: a chronicle of the changes globalisation brings and its impact on our lives.
I got caught in the pro-democracy protest march yesterday as I exited the MTR station in Causeway bay. I came face to face with "Longhair," the pro-democracy, anti-Beijing Legistrative Council member who wears Che t-shirts (something of a figurehead for his resolute and unbudging political convictions), standing on a granny stool chanting through a megaphone. Aparrently he had been giving out bananas all day to passersby. Check him out in my photoalbum (link coming soon).
While I was still quivering from the antibiotics, Larry invited me to a massive hotpot dinner with some of his friends. He and his friends are great fun so this hotpot became the usual broiling chaos brouhaha. I think at one stage I tried the chicken testicles (I still refuse to believe they are chicken testicles). I love the superstitions that are enshrined in chinese culture, like if you eat an animals sexual parts you automatically become more virile and fertile. One guy, Alex, gorged himself on these "delicacies" while I'd decided that yes, the pigskin was quite nice and I could handle that thanks but just don't hassle the white guy with the plate of testicles. Alex, I hate to think what will happen to you if your superstitions are true.
Ok I'm 25 now and I only just discovered the Velvet Underground. Well, just how good they are. White Light White Heat-whoah! That is some album. I particularly like a song from their recently released "Fully Loaded" compilation "Train coming round the bend." Absolute filth in the best possible way. Now I want to wear a leather jacket...
The Big Buddha is supposedly an attraction of HK. It's on Lantau Island. I went there and it was ok. It was big. There was another ho hum meal served by monks. Nothing against them, I just don't like their grub...
They unveiled a Bruce Lee statue in Tsim Tsa Tsui's half arsed "avenue of stars" after 25 years of his being unacknowledged for being the man. Interestingly, a day earlier a Bruce Lee statue was unveiled in Mostar, Bosnia. The symbolic goodness of Brucey shines worldwide, even in battle scarred balkan countries.
I think that's lovely...
I will go away over Christmas somewhere I think. Maybe Macau and Zhuhei. I want to eat salted cod. And see their much touted colonial architecture. Larry says I should go to Taiwan with him and his crew. We'll see. I should decide soon. Christmas is not far away.
So now I will get some food in Wellington Street and then scat home. I will take the giant escalator which continues up the whole of the slope of HK island. Then I will start to design a piece of furniture for my 'partment.
So much to do. Who needs TV?

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

November

It feels much better to finally be working with a work permit. It's looking very smart and snug in my passport. My ID card is on its way, they have my finger prints, my photo. No more crime sprees. One thing I CAN do, however, is finally book badminton courts. The crew of players has grown to 10, we are booking for a venerable horde!
A friend refers to the work environment in Hong Kong as a pressure cooker, and he is not wrong. Actually I've been finding work quite enjoyable lately. Since it was my birthday this week (7th), I was obliged by an unspoken office code of conduct to bring in boxes of cakes to share with anyone. It isn't actually that hard to find decent cakes in Hong Kong if you try. Owing to my laziness however, I decided to tell everyone my birthday is Monday the 14th instead and order some last minute boxes of yeasty treats. I think there's a dim sum lunch planned as well. They take birthdays seriously. We went out to celebrate on Friday, I booked a table at a little restaurant upon recommendation from Joelle. It was Thai fusion, I won't try to describe it. What I will say is that it was a good night.
Birthday celebrations have been somewhat tarnished by Clints departure. He left for Adelaide last night, after a 2-year stint here in Hong Kong. We will all miss him. I was sad. Someone even cried. He spent his last hours in HK in a bar being plied with beer and was always sporting at least two. He pretty much showed me the ropes of Hong Kong. Too bad you never found that quirky bad misspelt engrish language teeshirt you spent years searching for. I'll keep a lookout mate.
The weather here just got perfect, it isn't sticky anymore and everyone wanders around in an autumnal bliss.
I found myself in the botanic gardens the other day, and was impressed to find it was also a zoo. A leopard amongst the Bauhinias and the Ivy. The surrounding highrise competing for attention.
There is precious little public space in Hong Kong. Everything is crammed in. Something like a square in your average old european town would have been placed so as to give an urban centre a certain logic. Here, a park or square is squeezed in between the noodle shop and apartment entrance. A fence usually runs along any exposed edges, making public space more or less impermeable. You can't just go wandering about. You have to make the tacit decision that you will do something in that space and stick with that decision until you want to escape. Parks here have little or no lawns with only a few exceptions. what to do? Read a book? Sit and look at the paving? Rather than invite possibility, these places seem to entomb potential.
I mentioned exceptions. The park in Admiralty is where i am this weekend, at the Rockit Music festival, the first gasp of live music I've experienced in Hong Kong so far. There is lawn. There was meant to be The Brian Jonestown Massacre. You could say they were the only reason I bought a ticket to this otherwise Channel V-sponsored piece of excrement. Of course they pulled out owing to lead singer Anton's illness. He's a junkie for christ sakes! Why was I so naive? TBJTM were put on the bill so people would buy tickets to this turkey. The tickets are non refundable of course. I am pretty angry. There should be a class action. Then there's Feeder (...)and DJ Marky (which should be ok) to go and a host of local bands.
Unfortunately even music fans within Hong Kong think HKs homegrown is shite.
One HK artist (The Pancakes, who due to the lack of dedicated music venues plays in shopping malls instead-not such a bad notion actually haaha) has been on the ueberhip (yes this word is being used mockingly) Elefant label, which so far has not provided me with even the tiniest iota of pleasure.
Anyway, after this evening's final night of the festival I will finally succumb to the little voice that has been whispering in my ear for months now, the one that tells me "the live music is not here. Give it up, let it go..."
Shit corporatised music and personal finicky arrogance aside, my ears are squealing with pleasure. I bought a pair of little Audio Technica Headphones. So svelte, so so good. Since we're talking music here, I just want to make a recommendation and that is:

go and get Fugazi's latest album "The Argument." It is really that good. While some bands get worse, this one gets better. Maybe with this one it even became the best. Every other record they've made, there is usually one or two bad songs. This
one is flawless. I don't think it's just the new headphones...

I'm sorry to probably be missing my cousins wedding. I still might change my mind about that one in the last minute. But it looks unlikely I must confess. I feel very guilty actually. Martina is a good cousin. Coming back to Adelaide from HK for a few days doesn't seem so strange now as it did a few months ago. I don't know. I just don't know.

I have a new phone also. It has bells and whistles, like a 1.3 megapixel camera. I scoffed at first but it's actually proven really useful for filming and photographing stuff on the fly. The cat outside my window sitting on the neighbours roof for example.


My new number is 9578 5809

Should anyone wish to make an expensive international phonecall to a mobile.

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Candy Mandible Stroke 7

I can now say I've been to China.
I can now say I've got an Ipod.
I like my apartment. Life is slowly getting a rhythm. I have to learn Mandarin. I have to go to a gym.

Surprisingly you can find good music stores in Hong Kong. There's even an independent store somewhere, I should go find it. So My ears are currently having a jamboree, thanks to some new purchases and some acquisitions a la Francois from Quebec. Having iTunes on my work computer is a bit dodgy but it will have to do until I get a laptop. It is actually really annoying at times...

I got Neutral Milk Hotel's second album "In an aeroplane over the sea." Wow. It could become my favourite album ever. It is even better than "On Avery Island." Well, actually...

and then Neil Young's "After the Goldrush." Why did I ignore my mothers Vinyls of Crosby Stills Nash and Young for so long? Maybe because they aren't as good as just Neil?
I don't know....

And my surprise purchase was Broadcast's "Tender Buttons." The title track is really cool, I'm really enjoying some of their soundscapes: They conjure up all sorts of images of films not yet written. They are nice to bug out to.

And then, courtesy of Francois, there's The Eagles of Death Metal, who I once dismissed. I have to say, I've changed my mind-some of their campy grunting and whooping nearly caused me to laugh out aloud in the office last week, NEARLY...

Actually, Francois also provided every single Fugazi album, some Smog, and plenty of Zappa and Velvet Underground(which I will tackle tonight). His brother visited him recently armed with lots of burnt CDs, and, consequently, an unusual selection is making it to my iPod as well. Goldfrapp? Air? Bruce Springsteen? Wha?...They're all nice to have...

Yesterday Francois and me went over the border to Shenzhen. I had no trouble with border control going in or out of China which was nice, considering my Tourist Visa in HK was due to expire in 2 DAYS!!! Now I have another 90, or until I finally get my work visa.
Shenzhen was definitely worthwhile visiting, to witness the character of Chinese modernity.
This metropolis wasn't there some 20 years ago, it started life as a small village that became the geographic location to stage China's freemarket experiments.

Everyone has something to sell, watches, clothing, sex, mp3 players. We actually wanted a massage, a PROPER massage thanks very much. We settled for a foot massage and a pedicure.
The place we wanted to go was being renovated.

Looks like I want to go back to China. There is alot to see...

Candy Mandible Stroke 7

Sunday, October 02, 2005

Candy Mandible Stroke 6

It's October already, I've emerged alive, and quite changed I think. Hong Kong is not a city that lets you be who you thought you were, it changes you whether you like it or not. It's rude, it's violating, but it is a crazy crazy ride.
I've been in this apartment for a month now. I knew it was small, but it doesn't feel "pokey" small, I've been happy with the functional layout, the wood parquetry floors, the view out to the street, everything works. The location!!!
Now that a few comments regarding its size have been dropped, I find myself a little unsure about it all. I mean, it is expensive. Maybe it is a good idea to start to look for some kids to share with. I think initially it has been great, to help me settle in. I think the bond money I will probably lose will be paid back very soon if I am living with one or two others. We will see what happens...
My diet was poor, the lifestyle miserable this month. To emerge from September is relieving.
I got paid, and everything was magically alright.
So friday night it was only right to join Francois, Larry, Clint, Hans, Jessica, Utaka, David (is that your name dude-sorry...) for the mother of all friday nights. These don't feel momentous to begin with, the realisation of the spectacle unfolds soon enough.
On this particular occasion, that realisation dawned when we were all seated at a giant table in a chinese restaurant. We'd already seen the inside of Fringe club and some cocktail bar, and so all were hungry and tight as lords. Hans was spinning the lazy susan around and around, handing out handfulls of toothpicks to everyone seated. I had a scratch session with it, ala DJ Lazy Susan.
As the 'Susan spun faster and faster, I realised it was truly friday in Hong Kong. I think we went to Yumla after this. Yumla is rare in that the beats playing are always fine, but on this occasion we had other plans. We left shortly after for Volar.
Volar, I had never been to this place. It is a club that is so surreal and intoxicating. The price is high for good dreams...The door bitches are the most elitist and NASSTY in Hong Kong. They will look you up or down, turn you round, pull clothing labels out of your pants to check the Brands. On this occasion we must all have looked particularly appealing. It's where the beautiful people go. Larry loves this place. He goes off.
It was a really cool night. We went back Saturday night but it wasn't so good.

It was lovely to catch up with Felicity. She was here for just over a week en route to Italy for the architecture 4th year Offshore Studio. Lucky Lucky Lucky. She and Clint would have loved this guy I saw today at Causeway Bay, doing some promotions thing on the street, dressed in this giant bulging oval suit, wobbling around handing out leaflets. I nearly lost it.

And today I got an Ipod 60GB. It's been a month of anxiety and research into portable audio. The trade-offs have been made, the mic out is shitty, but it works, the storage is massive, it looks nice, it is easy to use. I am happy with it so far. Everyone else in the office has one. Ah, but only I have a 60GB, I have the CAPACITY!!! Aha. Ha.Ha.

Next week our crazy Badminton Team will play their first game. I still have to organise this, shit. There was such a groundswell of interest after we mooted the idea. Everyone will look so cute in their sporting outfits and little racquets...

Sunday, September 11, 2005

Candy Mandible Stroke 5

How long have I been here now? Nearly 2 months? Jeez, it feels like a Lord of the Rings-sized slab of time has passed, only without the bells and whistles of Gondor…

And so, the youngling tentatively steps into unchartered bracken, clutching a rental lease agreement and a large rucksack…

Time has sped, mainly because work, taking up a large proportion of one’s week, has sped. It’s been good. We are working on a competition entry. The hours have been long. We are doing this competition in partnership with the Beijing Institute of Architectural Design , like a state-run design conglomerate. I don’t know if I should even be typing the key word “Beijing.” China’s internet police are everywhere, they regularly snipe journalists who don’t take official party lines and criticize the government. And ISPs (Yahoo included) have recently been accused of supplying Chinese authorities with the necessary information that leads to their arrest. Well, if you don’t hear from me for a while, first assume that I’m lazy and write irregularly anyway, then after a little longer assume the worst.
Anyway, it’s been an interesting process, so there you go. No negative press anyway guys…

Recently I could be found in prison-well, actually a Chinese cafeteria near the prison on HK Island, somehow connected with the prison. I don’t know. I’m the only “foreign devil” that ever seems to be there. I’ve been asked along a few times by some of myCantonese work colleagues. Lunch with this crew has a certain pattern to it: There will be much conversation in Cantonese and laughing and joking, then I will be looking around at faces but not really understanding a word. Then after a while someone will turn to me and give me a summary of what has been talked about in the last five minutes. It’s actually a very generous thing to do. Somehow though it doesn’t make for fluid conversation, and this can be irritating. It’s noone’s fault but mine. “You should learn Cantonese” some of them say. And they’re right, I should. I doubt it will happen though. I’m actually thinking of turning to the “Dark Side” and getting Mandarin lessons. But will it be worth it? Getting tutored after a huge day at work, trying to concentrate, rarely getting the opportunity to practice….there are enough people here that speak it I guess, but it will take a pretty big effort. Do I have it in me? We’ll see…
…And the prison food isn’t actually that good. What’s the fuss about guys?

Well, after-work drinks have become ingrained into my psyche. It’s taken quite seriously. It’s probably the best time to socialise. Drop the slew of work. Grab the bag. Go. Drink. Talk. Make plans. Get some food. Go to a club. If this is sounding too “planned,” too “cyclical,” I can assure you it is. But within this weekly pattern is an extraordinary diversity. You always meet some new freak, learn some secret about someone, find some new item on the menu. You become acclimatised to the“Bubble” that is Hong Kong (Thank you Melbourne Bob for this analogy) without ever completely understanding it. Someone famous once posed the question: “what if we did away with the notion ofcontrolling the city and merely concentrated on becoming it’s occupants?” I think this is a great question, because it shifts our perception of the city as an “entity” towards something closer to an environment, even a “field.” Environments are something we are all more comfortable with “altering”and “manipulating,” and so we do away with all these presumptions. We don’t devalue architecture, we just expand it’s horizons.

Lots of new people at work. It’s a young office. We talk. We draw. People have ideas. Yay!

The last few weeks saw me running around in lunchbreaks, after work, weekends, looking at apartments. Land agents are determined here, they give chase. I checked out some dives, some nice spots too. I visited people who wanted flatmates. I think I’m a relatively easygoing flatmate, and that I get along with most people, but I didn’t really warm to any of the potential flatshare peeps I visited. And so I decided that enough was enough, I was gonna live by myself. Eventually I tracked down a place in SoHo, which is pretty cool considering it’s usually quite pricey. It’s partially furnished which is great. I pay 5700 Hong Kong Dollars a month
(about AUS $980) so it’s world city prices alright. But sometimes you just gotta live right y’know? It’s a short walk to and from work, it’s right next to Lan Kwai Fong where all the fun is. It’s pretty good. Still, after bond and expenses, I am well and truly financially floored until payday. Will it be two minute noodles and bottled water for a fortnight? We’ll see…Anyway, the flat will receive some attention soon. The blue curtains are despicable…

Oh yeah, and many fashion models shop at my local supermarket. It’s a strange thing to see someone you swear you just saw on a billboard. Hong Kong is something of a regional fashion hub so model-spotting is not uncommon. They have local haunts too, exclusive clubs that let them in for free and provide them free drinks, probably more…So how do the clubs make their money? From the rest of the schmucks, who go there to play ‘spot the sweetie.” I got taken to Dragon-Eye one night, one of these clubs, and it was pretty fun for about 15 minutes until you realised that activity seemed restricted to standing around looking at people. Perhaps it’s like a 3 dimensional fashion magazine where one merely turns the pages too quickly. Or maybe I just wasn’t in the mood. I don’t know. They sure do smoke a lot though.

The air is so thick here, breathing here is like a meal. I’ve been jogging up to the Peak Club and back, and my ticker literally can’t take it. For sure it’s steep, but…I think my next holiday will be at an Austrian Spa in the Alps….Clint recalled how the other night, after arriving back home at dawn from party, he realised he couldn’t sleep due to drinking too many vodka red bulls (always foisted upon us by Hans, though I’m developing a liking for this “contradiction” drink…) and so he decided to walk it off by visiting the Peak. It was particularly foggy that morning, and so, unable to see his own hand in front of him, he was disturbed by silhouettes of Tai Chi-ers, and by the eerie sounds coming from somewhere in the mist of a Chinese opera singer practicing lines….
I think I’m also a little closer to understanding the local preoccupation with ghosts. There was a ghost festival on recently, which presented the passer by with things like tables groaning with whole cured slaughtered pig carcasses, and people generally burning shit on the road. I’ll be uploading some images of this soon…Anyway, you get dehydrated quickly here during physical exercise, even after knocking down a litre or so of water. And once this happens, I sometimes get these weird green-pink apparitions in front of my eyeswhen I’m running. Maybe it’s just the congealingsweat running into my eyes. But anyway, this leads to the crackpot theory about how the local culture came to take ghosts seriously: they “saw” things whilst in a physical activity-induced delirium. Going back to this ghost festival though, I think it is more about venerating dead family members. It is a nice concept. The elderly here are definitely respected more than in Australia, and they certainly hold their heads high as they move along the streets with their canes, deliberately taking up the entire footpath. Though burning paper copies of prestigious worldly items (yes, there are shops selling everything from paper Rolexes to paper Mercedes Benzes) can be particularly noxious.

If anyone wants a postcard and haven’t received one, all you must do is let me know. I lost my list…

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

Candy Mandible Stroke 4

I am sitting in Clints apartment. Outside, a typhoon is pelting Hong Kong with rain and electricity. Thunderstorms across the HK skyline are very pretty…
And so here is another belated blog entry. I aim to recap on a few things that stand out in my memory, the entries will get more infrequent from here on in. Why? Because I have a job. Long days, fatigue, you know the drill. All will be explained. But now you must once again begin to plough through the cyberslurry of what is commonly known as…the candy mandible…

Saturday 30th July
Today is Lantau Island Day. The weather is rainy, appalling. Perfect for a hike…
The plan is, I will cross the island’s short axis, from Tung Chung to Cheung Sha Beach, where Clint and some of his workmates are attempting to windsurf.
Tung Chung is a dull, strange place. It is yet another of the many towns around HK that have gone from being small, isolated fishing villages to becoming large, highrise towns within the space of less than a generation. Sha Tin, where I had been a few days ago, is another such town, where hundreds of apartment towers were built to accomodate vast numbers of chinese immigrants in the mid 20th century.
In the case of Tung Chung, I am assuming that it has also developed to meet the demand for airport personnel on Chep Lap Kok Island close by. I leave it behind as quick as I can, and head for the Mountains.
I wind my way up Tung Chung Road, and order a set lunch at the Po Hin Monastary vegetarian canteen. The meal isn’t great. And I can afford to be critical. I am accustomed to the generally very high standard of eats one must provide if they want to make it in this town. The soup is very strangely flavoured, and while I don’t hate it I don’t want any more. It’s very fragrant, with some dried mushrooms, red bean and other curd floating in it. Next is the mock crispy skin duck, yawn. This is then followed by two dishes, mock chicken(mushrooms thinly sliced in a gelatinous salty sauce) and finally house-made tofu with a fresh tomato sauce. The tofu is very fresh and soft and is definitely the meals redeeming feature.
The nuns beam at me as I hit the trail once more, straight into the monsoonal rain.
The trail up to the mountains is beautiful, with lots of little mountain streams and waterfalls, with rock pools to cool off ones feet in. The rain keeps coming down, and I hold the umbrella close.
And so this hike is going well, or so I think. I have not yet entered…
The Valley of the Spiders…
After a solid hour or so of walking, I make it down to the last stretch of sloping forest leading to Cheung Sha Beach. The trail is not concreted like many others, and is therefore not well defined, hemmed in by foliage, a green tunnel of sorts. As I turn a particularly sharp corner, I run into my first spider…
The common spider in Hong Kong is quite large, black and has yellow streaks and enormous fangs. It could be described as a colourful cousin of the Australian Huntsman Spider. It spins its web in localised areas, ie never consciously across paths like some Australian Spiders, but often in clear breezeways, where it can-surprise surprise-catch things in mid flight. This spider has caught a human, one that freaks and chucks a nana and paws at his trembling face for a good minute, yelping.
This sets the tone for the afternoons descent, and from then on every 3 or so metres I encounter another spider encroaching on the path. Mostly I have to hurl huge rocks at them, there are no good sticks around. When I can make my way past them, I raise my umbrella and crouch and crabwalk forward, feeling silly.
This method becomes questionable when I spy a creeping movement from the corner of my vision, on the underside of my umbrella, ie centimetres away from my head.
I throw the umbrella to the ground, and watch gaping as a spider casually makes its way across the underside of my umbrella. A wonderful, unnerving afternoon in the valley of the spiders!

Monday 1st August
Monday morning comes around again. Clint goes off to work, and I set out on my jobsearch once again. Once the interviews are over and the calls have all been made, I set off towards Tai Po on the KCR East Train. I hire a mountain bike near the station and start pedalling like mad towards Plover Cove Country Park. I come across San Mun Tsai, a small fishing village with scenic harbour views of a giant concrete tidal wave breaker. The village is quite unique in these parts, I think. It is a small Christian community, and the church near the entry is probably its biggest building. I wheel my bike along the villages answer to a Promenade: basically a transition space between the inner private dwelling and the storage space/deck overlooking Tolo Harbour. Again, you can see right into peoples material lives. It is all lovingly ramshackle. Soon, construction of a luxury 12 storey apartment complex will be completed nearby, overlooking this enclave. I find a refreshment shop and drain a beer. I look down at my stomach, which is threatening to turn into a beer gut, and reason that I will be pedalling like mad all afternoon and so I can drink as much beer as I wish.
In Hong Kong I am finding I drink beer nearly every day. It is simply the most refreshing drink after a day in the subtropical haze. The local brew of choice is Tsingdao, from the chinese city of Quingdao. This city was one of the few small german colonies in Asia, and so guess who taught the locals how to brew beer? Apparently there remain a number of old German half timber dwellings in Quingdao. That’s even more bizarre than seeing Portuguese architecture in Macau! Soon construction of the new Disneyland in Lantau will be finished, and so these strange architectural mishmashes will pale in comparison. Even the MTR train that takes you to this Disneyland has windows shaped like the silhouette of that infernal talking mouse…
I never quite make it into the Country Park. I only see its violent mountains in the distance. I should come back here. It is stunning…

Tuesday 2nd August
This morning at about 11am I get the call. You got the job, congrats, now, can you come in today at 2 to start work immediately?
The caller is Gavin, a Director at Terry Farrell and Partners. Excellent, I think, this was my preferred place to work anyways. Trouble is, I have another 3 interviews lined up that afternoon. And so it is agreed that I can start the next morning instead.
I go to all the other interviews. I notice that one is much more relaxed when one knows they are inessential. It is nice to talk to different people though to see where they are coming from.
Wednesday, 3rd August
I find out why I was already required to start work yesterday. A competition entry is due tomorrow. And so for my first day of work I help a guy called Roy put together some presentation boards for the Design Competition entry until 4am the next morning.
I am thinking: "it’s good to be back…"

Friday, 5th August
Friday evening I go out with some guys from my new work, Francois the French Canadian and Cedric the cool Hong Kongker. We drink beer and then eat hotpot. Squill are back on the menu, they can also be called Pissing Shrimp I find out. You broil them alive, and you have to watch that they don’t nip you, they have one really large claw.
Cedric leads the way to a great little club in Wellington Street called Senses. Definitely a Hong Kong chinese crowd, but with a few gualo(foreign devils) faces as well. There is a really beautiful little terrace on the mezzanine floor ideal for first kisses, or dancing without care, and generally surveying the streets and the like. Cedric leans on the parapet, looking out at the grimy streets of Sino-Gotham and, taking a swig of beer, makes a sweeping gesture with his arm, and says:
" One day I’m gonna own this city."
The club has musical instruments lying around as well. This guitar-wielding indian guy is trying to hunker down with another guy who plays sax, and a bongo drummer.
Somehow they sense my yearning for la musica, so soon I am holding a guitar as well. It is all a little funk driven for me, all Jack Johnson-ey, even bordering on the fearsome Santana at times. Another guy plugs in a Korean Fender Telecaster knockoff and after about two strums breaks a string. Everyone cheers. We keep strumming and then I also break a string. It is all over.
Saturday 6th August
Saturday evening Clint and I get invited to Sean’s abode on the mainland, in a little village called Hang Hau. The Ashes are playing on TV (Sean has satellite), and there will be both aussies and brits in the audience. I arrive later than the others, having worked Saturday, and having been thwarted by a mad taxi driver. Sean rents his apartment from a Hong Kong architect, and the place is stunning. It is a really great pad on the third floor of a little building (little by HK standards), walls lined with woven fabric and bamboo fibres, everything very summery and casual, yet appointed with a fastidious eye. The other guests are immersed in the cricket as I arrive. An enormous table groans with food. Over the course of watching Australia lose the ashes, giant top grade steaks arrive from the BBQ, and we eat way to much imported cheese. Sean is everyone’s hero. Hans, a Belgian, displays a surprising interest for cricket. He has obviously been hanging with the Australians.
Everyone gets fuller and tireder. Sean suggests we see his rooftop terrace. And we are all gobsmacked. A night time view of the countryside, with the glow of the city from behind the ridge. This is the coolest rooftop ever! From this point on, I decide I am willing to spend more per month on rent if the apartment I find has a roof top or balcony.
The taxi ride home is a long one, and there are four of us: Hans the Belgian, and the three Australians: Bob the Melbournian, Clint the Port Lincolonian/Adelaidian, and me. Our taxi crosses the toll bridge across the harbour. The city is beautiful tonight.

Sunday 7th August
I started reading Sherlock Holmes tonight, thanks James for the book. It can’t wait for the London fog, maybe the misty marshes of Tai Po will have to do…
And I got the Avant Gardners DVD in the mail. I watched it, drank beer and ate peanuts. Thanks to the sender. I point you to my new Blog section, "Southern Austalgia" towards the end of this entry.

Thursday 11th August
I have worked for over a week. The work is challenging, the projects are fun and the people in the office are generally pretty cool and driven. It is a really good atmosphere to work in actually, so far. It is one of the coolest buildings in Hong Kong. Going to the toilet is like going below deck on the Titanic, so many portholes and strange, futuristic/nautical details. And this first week, I’ve had a window seat which looks out over the city. Rain and thunderstorms look good. A little bird even landed on the window sill and said hello. . In my photo album there are some photos of the office building where I work. You’ll find the link at the end of this entry.
So this afternoon some of us who are working on this one hotel project each get memos. Tonight we are invited to dinner, all expenses paid, at a Japanese restaurant called Sushi Sawa in Causeway Bay. And I’ve only worked on this project for, maybe, three days…I feel like a fraud.
And the food is the best ever! Wow, the sashimi is perfect. We find fresh bundles of red and green seaweed hidden under giant leaves, and the fish melts in our mouths. Then there are little sushi specialties as well, like salmon sushi with mandarin peel and roe for example. We wash all this down with an 1800ml bottle of sake. I vow to have a quiet Friday night…

Friday 12th August
…Which of course is impossible in HK. And so once again we find ourselves in Le Jardin, a great bar overlooking Rat Alley in Lan Kwai Fong. It’s a great social space, and has a nice fortified feel to it. After some hefty drinks, it’s downstairs to the Malay/Indian restaurant for some dinner. A fantastic, unpretentious place to eat and eat and eat. We are with brits, who unabashedly proclaim this some of the best curry joints ever-which is saying something when England has such a large indian population. Well, that is my night ended. I walk on home, feeling rather beat.

Saturday 13th August
So I have looked at some flats today. One is large, maybe a bit daggy but cheap by HK standards-4700 bucks Hong Kong for 2 big bedrooms overlooking the Hollywood Road/ Queens Road intersection. I’m very very tempted. I see some others that suck big time. All in all it is a good primer: I am starting to form a picture of what to expect. I MTR it to Kowloon Tong to see Festival Walk, a new shopping centre that we researched earlier this week at work. Again, there are some photos of this in my online photo album. I was reading a book by Rem Koolhaas and his Harvard buddies called "The Harvard Guide to Shopping." It’s some nice, stylised, polemical writing and it paints a picture, like most work by this guy does. I think though that for the first time, I was able to come away with a very positive frame of mind. This sort of cultural critique often seeks to cloak itself in critical coolness, that wry journalistic writing that usually makes the reader feel like they’ve gained access to the exclusive club of human insight for a few minutes afterward. But this time, I realised that these ideas are nothing if they are not applied and tested. Hopefully, there is a project we are working on in the next few weeks that will warrant some application.
Actually, Festival Walk is a good looking shopping centre. The escalators are all mirrored, and the blurred reflected human traffic gives life to these retail spaces.
Oh, and I succumbed myself here and finally found a manbag. It was half price at Ballys, which shouldn’t disguise the fact that the bag still cost way way too much.
But, like every good shopper with his new acquisition, I am happy.

Southern Austalgia.
This is a new section of my blog. I don’t know if it has a future. It serves as an outlet for my homesickness and all the other things I crave.
First off, we have the "5 Things I miss most about Adelaide" feature article.
1. The smell of eucalypts after fresh rains in Belair National Park.
2. The crisp blue water (and NOTHING ELSE) of Maslins Beach, the nicest beach in the world.
3. Buzzing with Coopers Pale, listening to buzzing music at Adelaide pubs.
4. The lack of good music here means that my status as a metrosexual will soon be
complete, with the belated acquisition of an Mp3 player).
5. A café that makes a decent coffee. Eros comes to mind…
6. riding a pushbike in the city without fear of dying.

Then there are the people as well, but I will stop here at the risk of turning all gooey n schmalzy etc. Maybe next week…
And before I go, here are a few links to other friends online Journals you could have a look at…

Monday, August 01, 2005

Candy Mandible Stroke 3

Friday, 22nd July
It's Friday night, my jobsearch can make way for the weekend, and I meet Clint and his workmates at a pub in Lan Quai Fong. It seems that I have already missed out on a number of drink rounds. Two irritating drunken girls are flirting and toying with everyone. As all the lads at our table seem respectable (from first impressions), they try their best to stem their advances politely. One of the girls announces they are from Essex. For some reason some of the english amongst us find this particularly funny. And in some inexplicable way it is.
A grand evening seems on the cards. We are to drink a little more, a little longer, and then make for a housewarming in the Mid Levels. The hosts, James and Angela, have gutted an apartment they purchased (the pricetag staggers this bewildered Adelaidian) and James, another of the many architects amongst us, has retrofitted it to their liking. By the time our taxi is bound for this housewarming, all present are quite tipsy. Between leaving the pub and taking this taxi, we have raided a late night liquor store and are armed with bottles of vodka, gin, tonic, and my HK beverage of choice Pocari Sweat, a kind of Japanese Gatorade. “Why shouldn't it be used in a mix drink?” I ask three incredulous faces.
The rest of the night is comic book drunkenness, entering this enormous apartment complex, careening past the sceptical doorman in the foyer, bursting into the apartment and finding everyone else inside even more boozed than we. Clint takes the initiative in the freshly renovated kitchen, churning out a dubious mix of cocktails. Pocari Sweat is dismissed quickly, as expected. Angela shows us the sights and delights of the apartment. Even at this late hour at your own housewarming, you want to show off your acquisition. It’s your duty as a host. I particularly like the view from the balcony, which looks onto one of HK’s ubiquitous spray-on concrete retaining slopes on the side of the mountain.
The party is a complete success, testified to by the vast quantity of liquor bottles christening the kitchens newly laid granite benchtops. A few of us bundle into a taxi, the driver quaking in fear at the rabble. Stuart is still holding a plastic cup of vodka tonic upon entering the cab, and responds to the taxi drivers swerves and turns by occasionally throwing vodka tonic everywhere. Finally, after the increasingly irritated taxi driver is turning a sharp corner, he sprays the cup’s contents all over Clints lap. The driver snaps, and looks around in dismay, shouting. It is extremely funny, but also a little shameful.

Saturday 23rd July
I need some extra summer clothes, so upon Clints suggestion I get a bus to the town of Stanley, around on the other side of the island. I find some shorts and two shirts at the Stanley Markets, and some cute little old fishermans houses overlooking the bay. Stanley doesn’t really do much for me, just alot of teenage expat girls going “shopping.” Maybe I am just hung over.

Sunday 24th July
Today I get up bright and early (on a Sunday no less) with the intention of going on a good hike. The Clint is floored after a sports bar cricket viewing gone mildly out of control, and so I venture down to the tube station, to catch the MTR to the last stop on the island line, Chai Wan. I am planning to hike it from there into Shek O Country Park, which stretches southward, cut off from the coastline by a ringroad and tiny villages that follow it. I tramp past an enormous hillside cemetery park, hugging the ringroad that envelopes the island. I've worked up quite a sweat, and by the time I've actually reached the park I am pretty dead. It's a solid walk from here on in, and once I make it over the initial climb, I am rewarded with sweeping views down to Big Wave Bay and Shek O Headland in the distance, overshadowed by the Dragons Back.
I descend downwards through some lush bushland, and soon the trail takes me through what seems like villagers backyards. You get a nice intimate feeling walking through these densely jammed in little houses. Like their bigger more expensive cousins, they are often covered in Hong Kong’s ubiquitous pink tiles, or are simply rendered and painted. The verandahs are low and dogs and cats moon about, wishing they could take off their furs while the sun beats down. I catch glimpses of some people watching television, oblivious to the passersby a few feet away from their living rooms. I make my way quickly through big wave bay’s streets, searching for footpaths, which are decidedly absent. I get to Shek O about 20 minutes later, after passing the Shek O Golf Course (world renowned by all accounts). The bus station is cute, as my pictures demonstrate. This is a Chinese beachside town, the outer core composed of all manner of restaurants and shops selling drinks and snacks and cool inflatable beachgear. I will have to get one of these inflatable ducks, they are priceless. The inner sanctum is the beach itself, lined with trees under which families sit, roasting marshmallows or sausages over little brick coal barbecues. This beach is really spectacular location-wise, but as an Adelaide boy used to having the beach all to himself, the multitude of people running around kind of gets to me. And so I walk around the bay a little to the Headland, where evidently Shek O’s crème de la crème reside, in large walled in houses nestled upon rocky outcrops overlooking the bay. The rocks remind me a little of Port Elliott in South Australia, but the water is much calmer and bluer. I am roasting and really needed to cool off in the water, and so I find a shady outcop and make camp. The water is fine, but I am a little uncertain how safe it is to wander out amongst the briny, rocky shoreline with no shoes-I mean, all those crabs and creepy crawlies that get eaten around here have to live somewhere, right??
So I get that over with and set off walking again, steeling myself for this famed Dragons Back. So there I am, my skin sweating and broiling away, trying to get to the entrance of this country park thinking “there will be a little settlement somewhere soon where I can get a bottle of water or two for this trek. ” The walk to the entrance is uphill, along a wide road of heat radiating bitumen. I reach the entrance finally and realise that this will be a real risk, I have no water and am sweating like crazy. I consult my map and conclude that it should be ok but I will have to be careful. The views are pretty amazing along the ridge, but by now I am a little delirious and find myself unappreciative. As I near the road with it's bus stop Shangri La, my sweating quickly ceases, ie my body has literally turned of the waterworks, I am dry. It's a bizarre feeling. But now I don't care, because I am boarding a bus that is city bound, and I have lived to tell the tale.



Wednesday 27th July
And so it is midweek in Hong Kong, where a blonde-headed young man (me) is pressing through the crowds in downtown Mongkok, stopping to check and send emails to potential employers at an internet cafe. I have a job interview on Friday, my second so far this week. The first was successful, I thought. It’s an office I would like to work at too, and this is all too rare for such an inexplicably fickle man as me. I wait patiently. And so in the meantime I begin the next round of telephone calls to check on whether CVs reached their intended destinations, whether it would be convenient to arrange appointments. Now that I am sitting in the gardens opposite the Tin Hau temple, I can actually field calls without the roar of traffic in the background. I’m on the Kowloon Penninsula. It’s the first time, for all intents and purposes, that I’ve visited the mainland, apart from our brief restaurant sojourn the other night with Billy and Hermia. Hong Kong Island is where it’s at, but here is where it all comes together: this is where chinese people go shopping for essentials like clothes, cooking gear, food etc. Ok, that’s all catered for on the island too, but somehow it seems more traditional here, less detached from the mysteries of mainland China. Sheung Wan, on HK island where Clint’s apartment is, lies on the edge of the chaotic lower levels, where Sheung Wan meets Central. I love the walk to Sheung Wan MTR, there are great little eateries everywhere, and the area specialises in dried and preserved goods. Things are done in blocks, streets and precincts here. In Mongkok, for example, there is a street market where you will find little else apart from Goldfish. The next street might specialise in fruit and vegetables and so on.I am still very curious about all these dried things. Some I have to do a double take at when I see them: is that a dried OXE TONGUE? What good is that CUTTLEFISH to anyone? Is someone going to EAT that WHOLE DRIED FISH? There is so much culinary potential for my relatively virgin tastebuds. I had some dried mushrooms in a wonton soup the other day, which became soft and slippery once infused in the hot broth. It was very yummy, maybe a bit slimy though.This week I’m actually trying to be good. I am off too much fun until I find a job, because I could find myself short if I go galavanting. I’m just taking little day trips and incorporating them into scheduled interviews, phone calls and internet café trips.Sometimes my internet café trips have been mildly irritating, when I have to go to Wan Chai. “The Wanch” district is where all us westerners are meant to go, where many restaurants serve steaks and fish n chips and that sort of staunch grub (which I admittedly sometimes crave-I went there with Clint to a sports pub that showed the Ashes tour the other night, and tried to overcome my ignorance of cricket. Clint has been most supportive, though now I just feel un-australian, what with my lacklustre cricketing knowledge. To alleviate this feeling I will visit the supermarket soon and buy an Arnotts Family Assortment pack-oh, that’s right, they got rid of the YoYos in that assortment didn’t they…oh well, Clint has a BBQ out back, guess I can practice the patriotism on that!) and there are a number of themed clubs and things for us western suckers. And the irritating part we always dread? Having Strip Club hoochimamas grabbing your shirtsleeves and trying to get you into their clubs for “happy hour.” No thanks, I’m happy as it is right now-well, maybe you could totter off back to your club and drink one of your cut-price beers FOR me eh? The rest of my eventful day is spent catching the KCR eastern line train to Sha Tin, a town slightly northeast of Kowloon. There was a monastery I thought I’d go and see, the 10 000 Buddhas Monastery. It was just slightly west of the train station, and you had to climb a hill. But in this case, the journey was most of the fun, because the 10 000 Buddhas that give this place its name begin at the bottom of the steps at the foot of the hill. They line the steps right up to the top, then they line the bounds of the temple. All are lifesize and each has a different pose and expression. I realised I didn’t have the patience of a Buddhist to review every single fibreglass statue. They were very smoothly finished with gold lacquer paint, and would look great at the helm of someone’s boat. Oh there was a pagoda at the temple too, and some other fun statues. By this time I wasn’t that into it anymore, the burning incense was choking me and the sun beat down on my already sunburnt scalp.After this I made my way down to the city centre. The plan was to make my way back to the train platform via the ridiculously large shopping centre that enveloped it, apparently one of Hong Kong’s largest (and that is saying a lot). The route I took was roundabout, and I ended up in what I think is Hong Kong’s answer to the british welfare housing estate. I didn’t take any photos once inside, I have only one or two images of the entrance. You entered what you quickly realised was going to be the prevailing reality for the next few blocks through a series of pilotis, or in plain speak large columns at ground level that support a building above it to allow for ground level circulation. At first there didn’t seem to be that much difference between one of these highrise concrete monstrosities and the ones that I was familiar with from elsewhere in HK. But these formed walls around an entire complex, which was also undercut by several large open concrete plazas lined with shops. Covered walkways left off of these and became skybridges that connected to more of the same, and I ask the reader of this journal to try to colourmatch aqua green with bright pink and orange with smoky purple highlights. This was the colourscheme for the next plaza I blundered into. While I’ve witnessed financial poverty before, I’ve never experienced such experiential poverty in my life, and became quite depressed. Apparently this estate is for “squatters” with nowhere else to live. Check my photos of the entry. On my way back to Clint’s apartment I bought some chinese sausage and some vegis for Clint’s “1000-year curry.” He began it the other night and we are going to add to it continuously until we probably get food poisoning. It’s like a different curry every night. I also found some of this white sauce which is such a nice accompaniment to chinese steamed greens. It is made mostly from soya beans and eggs.I also snacked at the Shanghai-style dumpling shop down from Hollywood Road, which was a revelation. I will be back for more, armed with beer.I am finding I am drinking lots of beer here, simply because nothing is more refreshing after a sweaty day out and about. Clint is refusing to drink for a few days after the monster weekend dissuaded him. The beer found in his fridge these days is either San Miguel (from Macau? I don’t even know…) and Tsingdao Draft, from mainland China. It works out to being about AU$1.80 for a longneck, which sometimes makes it literally cheaper than water.

There is a newphoto album, entitled "julysjollyjaunts" which you can view here:
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/yert06/my_photos

Here are some photos of our Outpost show at the Prince Albert on Sat, July 12th 2005, for those who haven't seen them yet. They are courtesy of Mr Niko Bourmas:
http://au.pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/testtone000/my_photos

Saturday, July 23, 2005

Slideshows

Below are some links to three photo slideshows of my jaunts.

Slideshow 1 shows some general impressions of this crazy island.

Slideshow 2 shows a japanese restaurant in Lan Kwai Fong that Billy and Hermia took us to. The interiors rock! And we never stopped eating. You'll no doubt note the gradual erosion of our collective humanity. I seem to remember the red bean icecream being particularly good, as was the Sake...

Slideshow 3 shows a visit to a traditional chinese restaurant on the mainland side. It's a traditional hotpot, coal heated. You whack whatever raw something in a wire strainer and boil for however long. You could really taste the charcoally infusion, this was a real winner.

http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/yert06/my_photos

Monday, July 18, 2005

Candy Mandible Stroke 2

I am using a computer where the default language for most website hotspots is Cantonese. It is therefore proving difficult to navigate my blogger profile. I am in the Hong Kong Central Library building, a towering shrine to neo-classical kitsch. Photos will follow...
I arrived last wednesday morning at Hong Kong's airport Chep Lap Lok, initially rather nervous. My ongoing ticket to London was nowhere to be found. Would immigration send me home for failing to produce an ongoing ticket? Where HAD I put that thing, I had been careful with my tix after all...

Well after some quick emails to my travel agent, I confirmed a suspicion I had: my ongoing ticket is an E-ticket. So of course there is no paper copy for me to produce. Which was good. No more worries!

Felicity picked me up from Central after my short train journey from the airport, and our taxi took us to an apartment building in Po Yan Street, Sheng Wan. Felicity's boy Clint lives here, and so had Felicity a while ago when both had worked in HK. Felicity is visiting him at the moment.

The week has been very funny so far, and F and C have been awesome tour guides. On Thursday we headed out on a ferry to Cheung Cha, a cute little fishing island possessing beaches and bountiful seafood. After an innings of swimming, beer and meandering, we made our way back to Cheung Cha Village. There are a number of seafood vendors here, who sell live crustaceans, eels and fish from holding tanks. There are some ridiculous specimens, which should soon appear amongst some published photos.

And eat them we did, at a restaurant amongst several along the thriving wharfside pier. The coolest were salt n pepper squill, little prawn like crustaceans with nasty little barbed tails. We all nursed pricked fingertips from this outing.

Our ferry back to Hong Kong Island gave me my first experience of Hong Kong Harbour by night, a delirious spectacle of lights and lasers. Luckily, Clint thought to provide "Ferry Beers," and we boozed and schmoozed our way back.

Friday, the hangovers were slight. We all went shopping around for little things like power adapters and other useless essentials in and around SoHo. F and C took me to a little dumpling shop for lunch, perfect for our sweaty, boozy states.

On Friday evening, we met up with some friends of F and C's, Hermia and Billy. Both proved fantastic dinner partners. Hermia is a food lover (the term "foodie" is reprehensible, so I am choosing food fanatic until there are any better suggestions) and so of course it fell upon her to choose the venue. After a few beers at the Fringe Club, we found ourselves in a really cool japanese restaurant with an awesome fitout. Again, photos will do it more justice, but we had our own circular booth and a really kooky menu. We did not stop eating and drinking for at least two hours. I can't remember what happened next...

Saturday evening F and C had invited dinner guests to the apartment, and we all went on a shopping expedition. Clint had just gotten a new BBQ, and was keen to test it. My particular obsession was to make tropical fruit skewers to bbq. I got mangoes, peaches, nectarines and strawberries.

We rearranged the loungeroom and went to work. In the end there were about 5 guests: 3 expats from the Netherlands, one from the Philippines, and one from Switzerland.
Clint is an adroit barbecuer, Felicity a deft skewerer. The food ended up being a hit. The fruit skewers had been a gamble, but they paid off in the end. Barbecued strawberry is sexy, sexy food. Amidst the boozy haze, we ended up at a Club called Gecko. I can't remember much.

Sunday afternoon, there was a lunch on Lantau Island planned, at a little beach at a restaurant called Cococobana. Here we met up with many of F and C's other expat friends, from Scotland, England and South Africa. I lucked out on the main course-the mackeral, though tasty and something of a "dark horse," gave me food poisoning, from which I have not yet recovered. I managed to head out to the Peak Club on Victoria Peak for some amazing views and a hike down through the steamy hillside. But my heart wasn't in it. I was sick.

And so here I sit, in the Central Library, nursing a groaning stomach. My writing has been unremarkable, and unembellished. Tommorrow I go kayaking with F and C around the harbour, provided I am well.
I have a postal address. They are as follows:

Erik Brasse
Flat Q915
Po Hing Mansions1 Wa Ning Lane,
Sheung Wan, Hong Kong

I also have a mobile number here: 95306619
Hopefully my next entry will find me in better health and better able to write.

Erik.

Sunday, July 10, 2005

Candy Mandible stroke 1

Hello readers, or lack thereof...this is my first test post for this fresh new blog of mine. You'll forgive me the initial ramblings as I find my feet. I'll try to keep entries brief and succinct, and will not badger your daily routines with descriptions of my toenails and what I ate for breakfast (although this morning the croissant had a certain piquancy...)
I am setting this up to keep y'all informed about my whereabouts and whatnots as I begin an unforgettable journey through space and time. You will ask the question: " but aren't we all travelling through space and time?!" I will quickly change the subject and tell you that my initial plane flight takes me to Hong Kong on tues, 12th July at 15:00pm. And that journals like these are cheaper than sending post cards. Now, there will be exceptions, because we can all appreciate the charm of postcards from time to time. In order for you to recieve one, you must send your addresses to me so that I can begin my identity fraud racket AND send you said postcards!

Ok, that's it for now. Burble.