Stanley

The day started in a most disappointing way - I decided to march over and command Mr Crepe chef man to whistle me up one of his creations on his griddle. But he had one he had already prepared to hand! How on the back foot was I? Bah. I countered by spooning excessive amounts of whipped cream and chocolate sauce on his limp offering under his malevolent nose. I shall catch him out tomorrow.
So, across on the ferry and then a bus round to the south side of the island to Stanley. What a lovely little place - sure, a few high rise blocks aren’t far away but there was a genuinely good market (the SK got her card out) and shacks right on the bay overlooking the South China Sea cooking up seafood and serving cold bottles. And the sun came out.
On to Aberdeen and a comically touristic trip round the harbour on a stinking diesel sampan while the captain shouted impenetrable observations. I have no idea.
Back and scrubbed and out on the subway to the Temple St night market which is very fabulous if you want handbags, scarves, usb connectors or tiny drones. Actually, I do, but there are also some great eateries out in the thronging streets which command your attention a bit more. Proper meals with great egg fried rice and large, yes large bottles of Tsingtao.
And so, back to Whampoa station and up to the 18th. Moving on tomorrow. And no jet lag? How very strange.