Black Jacked

I woke up too late to accompany Jess to Maisie’s school today so I decided to get in touch with an Indonesian girl I’d met a few days back to arrange lunch. She was up for a month to visit an uncle she hadn’t seen for over a year now. When we met up, I hadn’t had any lunch and was ravished so she asked me if I wanted to come and have lunch round hers. I didn’t want to be rude. I mean, she wasn’t really my type to be honest but hey. Besides, she had an eyelash, stuck in the section of her eye, closest to her nose which I couldn’t stop staring at. It was dangling by a bit of wet sleepy dust and equated to a complete turn-off. Anyway, we got in a taxi and headed off out to her place. After driving for about twenty minutes, I started to get a little worried. She started asking me questions about marriage, weight and sleeping habits. All the way there, she kept getting phone calls, saying one word and then hanging up quickly. When the taxi finally crept into her block of flats, I could see we were miles out of Bangkok. It was a bit annoying because I’d promised to get back to take care of Maisie for Jess and it was going to take me ages to return. We walked into her uncles place and it was empty, apart from a dead cockroach on the living room floor being munched on by about 50 odd mini-ants. We sat down and her cousin walked in. They stuck the telly on and both headed off to the kitchen and after about ten minutes or so, brought out a bowl of classic noodles and bean sprouts. It smelt lush but the noodles were a bit too stuck together for my liking. Then, her uncle Rudi steps in. He was short (about my height) with a brimming smile. I actually liked him more than the girl. His English wasn’t as good, but what he didn’t know in language, he made up in happiness. He was a card dealer on a ship that was docked in Bangkok harbour and said that if I ever wanted to make a little extra cash (at this point he threw me a little wink ;-)), to come to his table! Luckily for me, I don’t really play cards. Anyway, he insisted on showing me how he did it and told me to follow him. He took his shoes off as he went upstairs so I followed suite. The room had a double bed, a table, a couple of chairs and a clothes cabinet. The thought that this guy was gonna force me to have sex with his niece zipped into my mind and then zipped straight out again when he pulled out a deck of cards and some chips. I breathed a sigh of relief and sat down. He started showing me how he did it. It was Black Jack. He dealt out the cards and then showed me how he could let me see the next card that was coming, by flipping the pack and hiding it from whoever my opponent would be. He’d also see the opponents hand and then indicate with his fingers, which cards the guy had as well. Because I’ve never played this game and probably because I’m a little stupid, this whole process took about half an hour, during which time he started telling me about this guy called Mr. Malik. A spoilt brat from a rich family in Brunii who loved to gamble his parents wealth. They’d struck a deal on the ship Rudi was working on but Malik had only cut him a small percentage of what they’d agreed to split. Naturally he was pissed off at the bastard and suddenly, I could just about see a light at the end of the tunnel. He obviously wanted me to go to the ship and play one on one with this guy and take his money. It turned out I was right about part of that statement. Rudi leaned over to me and said “You know, I’m actually Mr. Malik’s favorite dealer and he’s coming here, to my house, for a quick game before he heads out to Japan for a business conference” and all of a sudden, Mr. Malik shows up at the door. At this point I just freeze. My heart stops and I feel a deep chill run all down my body. I turned to Rudi’s niece with a look of “What the hell is this?” and she just returned the glare, worried as I was and shrugged her shoulders as if to say “I don’t know, I don’t understand”. I squeezed her leg, nervous as anything as Rudi’s whole demeanor changed. “Ooohhh, Mr. Malik, Mr. Malik, how are you? Would you like something to drink? Can I offer you anything at all Mr. Malik?”. Mr. Malik was tall, dark, dressed in a suit and sported geeky glasses. “Not at all, I am well thank you Rudi. As you know, I cannot stay long”. The introductions were made and suddenly I was involved in poker game I couldn’t get out of. A poker game in which Rudi and I were attempting to scam this rich brat. The game started and this guy pulled out a thousand dollars to bet with. Rudi was dealing, sitting on the same side as Mr. Malik and could see all the cards he was pulling. With his little tricks, we soon won the thousand dollars off Malik. All I could think was that if this Malik guy realized we were doing him, I was dead. Suddenly, the stakes changed, he opened his briefcase and pulled out $40.000 and handed it to Rudi. “Lets play proper, yes?” Rudi was gobsmacked but covered it pretty well. “Ooohh, Mr. Malik, we want to play serious now, yes? Ok, Ok.” And started dealing everything out. I squeezed his nieces thigh again and my hands started to tremble. The bet got to a stage where I had no more cash and Rudi, eyes wide, just said “Do you have 6000 Baht?” (which is about £70) and I didn’t so I just said no. “6000, just 6000 to see Mr. Malik”. I scampered through my wallet and had about 300 Baht. “Sorry, none with me”. Rudi turned round to Mr. Malik and said, “Mr. Malik, I know Jason for a long time now, I will lend him the money”. Happy about the situation, Mr. Malik let the game go on, and on, and on. And I went on borrowing, convinced that we were gonna win this. Finally, with a pre-determined sign we’d arranged, during the half hour explanation of the game before hand, Rudi indicated to me that he wanted me to end the game. And so I did, with the bet at $36.000. This was it, we’d won. I had the highest hand and we’d scammed this guy. But Mr. Malik stopped play and gestured to the piece of paper we’d been taking notes down on for the borrowing of the money. “Mr. Jason” he said, “As you know, I have come into this game with $40000 in cash, and you, you have not shown me any money. Now, I have a pretty good hand here. If I win, what cash will I receive from this game?" My heart stopped again and I glanced over at Rudi with probably the stupidest expression I’ve ever pulled. Luckily, I wasn’t someone else so I didn’t know just how stupid I must have looked. Rudi looked over to me and said “Do you understand what Mr. Malik is saying?”. The stupid expression remained. I got good at that for the next minute or so. “Do you have any money? A passport, a camera, anything you could put into this deal to see Mr. Malik's hand”. So I got my camera out. Mr. Malik looked a little annoyed and suddenly stood up and said “look, I have a meeting to go to, why don’t we adjourn this for an hour or so and complete this when I come back”. We all agreed and Rudi put my camera into a suitcase with the $40000 and our cards, sealed and signed in a pink envelope. He gave Mr. Malik a copy of the key and then headed off. Rudi then sat in front of me. “We’ve won! We have the cards! We have his $40000! I phoned a friend and he can lend me $18000 but you have to help me out here. Once we finish this, you can keep $20000 and I’ll keep the other $20000. You just have to help me out here. How much can you get?” Here is where I thank the lord I’m not rich. I’m stupid, but I’m not rich. I was ready, right there and then to go and get this money for him, if only I had it. But I knew I had no where near enough. He pressured me for about 10 minutes to the point where I just said “Look, this is now your problem, you put me in this, I haven’t got the money. You know we’ve won so you get the money cus I can’t do it”. Eventually, after a little more pointless persistence, he gave up and said he’d find another way. He gave me my camera back and I got into a cab with his niece. She was furious and was shouting at the cab driver, all sorts of orders and directions and stuff. She just couldn’t believe that her uncle, who she hadn’t seen for over a year now, could have done such a thing. We got to the main road and we had to change taxis. She got out, paid the guy and said she was really sorry for what happened and that she was going back to have a go at her uncle for putting all this pressure on me. When I got home, my mind was racing all over the place, it was madness. I told Jessica the story and as soon as I mentioned the words Black and Jack, she smiled and said I was part of a scam. The more I thought about it, the more I was convinced she was right. The bad part of it all was that, when I went to check my camera, my memory card had gone. Rudi had stolen my memory card! I couldn’t believe it and was about to contact his niece when suddenly my sister said “No! Forget it man! It’s so not worth it”. “But I really want my memory card back”, “Give me you phone” she said. She took the sim card out of the back, stuck it in the side of her mouth between her teeth and crunched down on it! Wide eyed she handed it back to me. "Fair enough", I said. I stared at her for a number of seconds, slightly shocked by the mini-overreaction and after a few moments, we both just burst out laughing. I mean, the number was still in my phone and the girl had written it in the back of my book for me too... but I got the idea. No point re-kindling that little affair.

Stir-Thai-Crazy-Land

Well, what can I say about Thailand. I'm afraid I can't really say much that hasn't already been said but I'm sure if I put my mind to it, I'll be able to say an awful lot anyway! In a nutshell, it's magnificent. Apparently I've come at the best time of the year. In the summer, the temperature gets to unbearable heights and the humidity is in the 90's for a period of approximately 6 months. Being here in December means that the temperatures fluctuate between 20 degrees at night and 30 or above during the day. Its kinda bizarre but I love it. You get to wear shorts and a t-shirt everywhere you go apart from between 5 and 8 in the evening, when certain flying creatures come buzzing out from their little homes and annoy the humanoids of this world. A vocation they have become very good at here in Bangkok. So, if you like the idea of maintaining a bump-free profile on your body then you have to spray yourself with anti-miji stuff. I've actually sprayed some towards one of these horrors and the results are rather satisfyingly horrid. They just go mad! It's great because it doesn't kill them, but you can certainly see the effects it's having on its poor little brain. But Bangkok isn't too bad actually. It's a huge place with over 15 million people, in a very hot and humid area of the world so it's bound to have some in there. The thing I'm loving about this place is the people though. They're all so friendly it's incredible. Polite, educated, ready to help out with anything. Not that many of them even speak English but for some reason, communicating is really easy. Here, just smiling gets you straight into the mix. My Thai book has helped me no end and when they see I'm trying, they do anything and everything to help me out. Bangkok transport is the best. They have a super technologically advanced and hygienically crisp tube system and an Eco-friendly "sky-train" which travels 3 floors above the city roads. It's a modern and clean running system where children, then women have absolute seat priority and where people actually cue up outside the doors, wait patiently until everyone is out and then file on in. There's arrows on the floors telling people where they should stand and guards on all the platforms making sure no-one even touches the yellow lines before the trains have stopped. So that's all great. But what I love is the contrast. When you either climb down from the sophisticated cloud nine sky-train or up from the super cool swishy-underground with it's built in tellies and jubilee-like door opening systems, you emerge in a metropolitanaec jungle, where cars and motor bikes whizz in all directions with very little regard for anything non-machine like. The roads are all clean and clearly labeled but the vehicles care little for it's intentions. It's a place where the machines become a living entity. Artery-like veins pulsating through the major parts of the huge animal called Bangkok and keeping it alive. The buses have no windows and the doors are always open. Travelling inside one is great. The drivers chair seems to have been added into them, almost as an after thought. It's like a car seat that sits on the floor and you could literally walk up to it and look over what the drivers doing. One of the most efficient forms of getting around is actually by boat. The city is full of canals. The boats are insane. They pull up but rarely come to a full halt so you have to kind of jump in and then the engines propel you at crazy speeds from mini raft-like stop to stop. During the ride, they hitch up these plastic bits of sheeting to stop you from getting wet and the ticket people walk round the outside hanging on to nothing but a rope in a death defying fashion to get over to you. Finally, back on Terra firma, there are three forms of taxis. The regular car taxi, painted ridiculous pink, yellow, blue and red neon like colours that just hurt your eyes. The highly polluting, loud but admittedly, mildly thrilling bike-with-a-cart tut-tuts and the deadliest of them all, the motor bikes. The traffic here is silly. It's always jammed. The lights seem to fluctuate between red and green for a full 3-5 minutes at a time. At first, I thought this should actually work. You stop for a long time, but then you all go for a long time. WRONG! I don't know why but it just doesn't. So the fastest way through town is on a bike. Now, as an experience, I do recommend it... but only as an experience. As a way of life? It can surely only lead you onto a path to death. I've done it twice and both times were on streets that weren't even busy. Yet both times I finished with my heart in my mouth. Its strange. The roads are very good quality. There's no dirt tracks here. But in between negotiating speed bumps, the occasional drain, oncoming traffic, sleeping dogs, people and the stalls on the sides of the road, you end getting home in a flash... only to realize that flash was your life flashing before you. It's a bizarre system too. Bangkok is divided into huge roads and then little roads that many times shoot off to dead ends. It would normally take about 10-20 minutes to walk them so the bikes laze around at the junction of these roads and take people up and down it in about 3 minutes. They never wear helmets and neither do you. Apparently there's an option to wear them but, I guess because the trip is so short, there's no point. Ok, I could go with this story for a while, so I'll just finish up quickly by talking about the food. The food here is... in... credible!!! The people seem to love eating and love cooking. All day, every day, everywhere you look, there's people eating (apart from on the Sky-train and the underground where it's forbidden). There's little stalls on the sides of every road, and at different times of the day, they seem to change round from sweet bananas and pancakes to stir-fry noodles and rice and at night, barbecued "stuff"! It's a bit weird sometimes. I had some BBQ grasshoppers with lemon juice the other night... verdict? Crunchy. But not bad :-) They had cockroaches too along with other mysterious insect-like creatures but I haven't quite got round to them yet. I've come to the conclusion that I'm gonna go for it all. Once again, my plan for losing weight has gone out of the window. I sometimes fear that by the time I've finished my month here, when I try to get on my plane to Australia, they might not let me on unless I promise not to take any extra baggage. Oh well... hey, maybe I'll just stay here :-D Uh-ohhhh!

Look away now

The trip to Bangkok was quite a cool one. I met some nice people on the way. A guy from New Zealand called Josh was sitting on one of the computers in the Airport. I had some time on my hands so I asked him what I had to do to get on the computers. He pointed over to a little coffee counter and just told me I needed to buy something from there and then they'd let me on. After copying him in his orange juice request and being commended on the action, he told me he was on the last leg of a world tour that took him 4 years and was heading on back to Auckland. We exchanged a few tales and I tried to help him find a place to stay in Hong Kong. Jess had written an email telling me of some places to go to if I wanted to stay there. What I didn't realize was that they were she and Maisie had stayed in. A sort of YMCA for women. You can imagine my embarrassment when I told him he should go there as I scrolled down the email looking for the info. Anyway, I did what I could and he seemed like a guy that could easily fend for himself (4 years out in the wild must do wonders to ones survival skills) and went to check-in for my flight. In the cue I met a cool Scottish couple that had literally finished doing a year in Australia and were on their way back home with a quick stop in Bangkok. They were telling me about a horror flight they were on when on their way to the Maldives when suddenly on engine failed to land and they had to turn back, turn the engine off and do a crash landing. The woman behind them was hysterical (not in a funny way though... although when they mentioned the word, I could help but think of the scene in Airplane when all the passengers cue up to bash the crazy, uncontrollable and "hysterical" woman!). We went through more "You are a visitor" check points, something I'm actually starting to like more and more. It's good to see the flipside to stuff. So many times when you come into London, you see all the poor people cueing up, waiting their turn as the rest of us just head on through the E.E.C. section. The plane was cool. I was flying with Emirates and the seats had a little screen in the front which actually had an on-board camera, seen from the pilots point of view so take off was most interesting. Landing was cool as well. It reminded me of those old ZX Spectrum F-15 games. You see the landing strip up ahead, line up for it and then wait patiently for about 10 minutes as you approach. I got a little nervous when I remembered that I was never able to land it. It all seemed fine for those boring 10 minutes... then I'd just crash the plane. Luckily for me and everyone else on the plane, this was not me playing computer games. The downside to the trip was having to endure the company of the arrogant guy next to me. He worked in the mobile phones industry and had a nose the size of a ping-pong ball which kinda made it hard for me to concentrate on much of what he was saying... which was a small bonus. It got particularly hairy when he decided to go into his anti-American spiel. Oil, Arabian Kings and Iraq being his main points of focus. And you could see the intent and passion he had for the subject as he raised his voice a notch and sped up his talking. I could just imagine his heart pounding away inside his chest, thumping up against his rib cage, encouraging him on "Go, Go" said the rib-cage, "A cardiac arrest is just what the doctor ordered!" He was a rude man too, tutting at the hostesses when they didn't have what he ordered and generally making their life difficult by refusing to put his seat up for landing and take-off, etc. Basically, being a bit of child. He was staying on the plane as it was going on to Dubai from Bangkok and when he realized he had to get up to let me out, he threw the blanket he was using off, to expose an unzipped and unbuckled area of his body I'd really rather have known little about. The people that were walking by in the isle might have fainted if they were of the fragile sort, but luckily, none did. Once he respectiblized himself, he got up and let me off the plane. The first thing I noticed about Bangkok was the heat. Everybody prepares you for it and you always go along with it but this was crazy. It was one in the morning and it was hotter than any day I've ever experienced... and this was their winter apparently. I'd had to be here in the summer... when it's actually the rainy period. The humidity must be unbearable! Everything is air conditioned. Which is weird cus it's actually very cold in all the cars, trains, undergrounds, supermarkets, shopping centres and cinemas and then when you come out of anything, you just get hit by a wall of heat! Not that I'm complaining :-)

Portugueast

Macao is nuts! I love it... yet equally feel a little awkward there. I arrived at the port and after a little while getting through immigration, with bizarre looks from the guy behind the counter after he sees my passport photo (with glasses and dark hair) and then looks up suspiciously, without moving his head to see a bleach blonde glasses-less guy with a brimming smile. Once through, I tried to call Ze Chan again but couldn't get him on his mobile, so I ventured off out the port and immediately got propositioned by a prostitute, laying half passed out on a bench, smoking a cigarette. As she kinda whispered sweet nothings under her breath, I returned the whisper with one of my own but disguised it under a 'helloing' smile, "At least make an effort!" I marched on, avoiding public transport through fear of going in the wrong direction and decided to head for the lights in search of some food. I love it when my stomach dictates my actions in life. Nothing, and I mean nothing gets in my way then! Walking into the brightness that shone from Macao was quite an experience. I was shocked to see thousands of cars, all with the old Portuguese number plates, classic Lisbon black & green taxi's, streets named after weird Portuguese places like Rua da Praia Grande, which is kind of like going to Beijing and seeing a place called Bournemouth Beach Road! There was also Rua de Lisboa, Rua de Sintra and numerous other Portuguese street names. Even the people looked and acted slightly Portuguese, shouting out in the middle of the streets, spitting everywhere and smoking like chimneys! I felt like I was at home but in a paradoxical "Back to the Future" style universe where Biff pinched the almanac and created Casinos everywhere! In fact... I couldn't be closer to a better description of the place. Casinos are everywhere you turn. I went into one such place and it's mad. Filled with young Chinese drunk kids throwing chips about all over the place. No beans or ketchup were involved thank goodness. I did manage to grab a bite to eat, right in the centre of the place. A lovely big dish of chicken noodles and green tea. And then came the slight change in feeling. The waitress had been very smiley and lovely as I ordered and thanked her for the food (in English mind you...), but at the end of the meal, I decided to thank her in Portuguese. "Obrigado", I said... and she froze on the spot, furrowing her brows and looking rather pissed off with me all of a sudden. "You are Portuguese?", "Yes, well, half English, half Portuguese..." "Oh, we don't speak Portuguese here any more, but I know the answer... De nada, right?", and she walked off. "Right", I mumbled to myself. I suddenly felt very strange. In a place filled with Portuguese memories, why was there an apparent hatred for it? Why didn't they change all the signs when the Portuguese moved out? I can understand the colonialist problems that might have ensued but, get rid of it all if you have a chip on your shoulder, don't just wallow in a depressive cloud of laziness and leave it there. Anyway. Strange stuff. I finally met up with Ze Chan, who broke up a conversation I was having with another "lady of the night" trying to chat me up outside Wynn Casino. It's all very flattering but I was actually starting to feel a little uncomfortable as the hours ticked on by. Talking to me about my marital status wasn't really something I wanted to get into with her and Ze's intervention was perfect! "Jason?"..."sorry, but there's only enough room for you in the car!" and he grabbed me by the arm and whisked me away. Ze is Great. He works as an editor for Radio Macao and plays in a Jazz band with a lovely 5 string bass guitar. Him, Lina and her husband (a chap who also played in the band with Ze) took me round the sites and showed me the wonders of Macao at night. We went to it's highest point to have a good overall look at the city and then to some of the more defining parts of it all. Squares that still look very much like down town Lisbon with classic Portuguese-style buildings. It's a magical place, no doubt. By 5 in the morning, after lots of cigarettes and chats about Portugal, Macao, colonialization, ill feeling, food, smoking, spitting, friendships and many more late-night subjects, I hit the hay and readied myself for my trip to Bangkok.

Jet Foiled?

When I got to Hong Kong, I checked my luggage and guitar in at the airport and headed out to lord knows where. I got out to the bus and asked him to take me in to the city. The trek in was ok, but it was foggy and darkness was winning in the battle of dark versus light. Was evil really about to arrive? Actually, no it wasn't cus Hong Kong has many lights. The city is very cool and it's a shame I didn't have more time to explore it. Instead, I got onto the Boat of Death that takes you from Hong Kong to Macao as I was gonna meet up with some friends of friends of the family. There were about one hundred people trying to get on this thing and the boat, situated in a sort of water-plaza, surrounded on both sides by unforgiving walls that ricochet waves from one side of to the other. It was like the seas were having a bit of a giggle with the little expendable human race and just throwing the ocean around a bit. They didn't mean to hurt anybody, it was just a laugh, I'm sure. The boat hurtled up and down and passengers waited patiently to cross a little foot-bridge over to it. When the waves dulled down a little, the rush would begin and twenty or so at a time would pile forward trying to get on it. When you were finally on, it was like being ridiculously drunk, walking down stairs holding on to banisters or people as they walked by. Imagine my fright when I sat down and read one of the leaflets informing me that the boat was powered by Boeing engines. I don't know what speed we ended up going at. All I know is that most of the people on board fell asleep in the first 10 minutes. It was a bit like constant air turbulence and you actually had to put seat-belts on! Great stuff. Anyway, all in all, it was actually an O.K. ride and although Macao's arrival was a welcome one, I kind of enjoyed my first experience of Chinese water sports.

WhatevAirlines.com

After missing a few heart beats in the week running up to the big move, the day finally crept up on me like a little child playing “BOO!” games with you. Boo games being the cattle equivalent of cow tipping at weirdly and unholy hours of a Welsh morning. I’d booked my flight on Oasis Airlines, a company that is claiming to be the first ever long-haul budget airline. Initially, I was supposed to fly out on the Monday, but, due to the late arrival of the airlines second plane (!), they had to cancel my flight. They’d initially rebooked me for a flight that same night on New Zealand Airlines… or so I’d thought. I called the airline and when they told me that I wasn’t on the flight, another mini-heart attacked beckoned. I got in touch with my travel agent and he said they’d put me on the flight for the next day and upgraded me to Business Class for my worries. It was all becoming a little hairy. I tried calling the number Oasis Airlines had left me in my email and I ended up contacting a little old lady in North London, who told me I wasn’t the first person to call her about this shenanigan. I was beginning to wonder if this company was really for real. With a name like Oasis, my mind was rushing. Motto’s like, “Mirage Airlines, seeming so close, you really believe you could touch it” or “Oasis Airlines, making you fall for a vision”. After a string of worrying emails to the travel agent again, I received a quiet and re-assuring one back, informing me that this was actually an official company. Still somewhat apprehensive, I decided to go with it and set off for Gatwick the next day, giddy as a schoolboy, eyes nervously wide, twitching away like a madman and with the hairs on my arm standing so much they caught winds which had never before been caught. Like the ones on the escalator when the guy in front of me farted! That was not cool. There’s never anywhere to run to when that happens. They deposit, it lingers and you have no choice but to travel through it, grimacing. Anyway, Kirsten dropped me off and I set off on my epic ride with nothing more than my shoulder bag, rucksack and guitar in hand. Jessica had told me to ask for seats in the middle of the plane if possible and right at the back. When I got to the check-in desk, I not only breathed a sigh of relief when I saw “Oasis Airlines” plastered all over the screens, but also sported a little smile as there were no cues there what-so-ever. I walked up to the counter and said hello to the guy behind it. He was writing something on a piece of paper and when he lifted his head, he raised an eyebrow, looking me up and down. At first, I thought he was wondering why someone, dressed as shabbily as I was, would even dare walk up to his counter… but after a while, I realized he was actually checking me out! I mean, I know I sound and maybe even seem gay sometimes but… do I look gay too???!!! Grrrrrr!!! Maybe it’s the hair! I dunno. So yeah, I told him about the “sitting at the back” thing and he just giggled and said “Ermm… ok, lets see what we have here...” He bent over backward for me, strapping my guitar with extra duck-tape and giving me all the time I needed to “fill” out the necessary paper work needed. He even got one of the girls to escort me to the ‘Over-sized’ Luggage section. She was an English born Chinese girl, about as stupid as plank of wood. I tried to make polite conversation, but she couldn’t stop going on about how everyone that worked at the Airline Company was gay! “Like that guy that served you! Did you know he was gay??!” Dear o Dear. Anyway, when I dropped off my guitar and the pain experienced by the girls company had abated, I set off to my plane. After about a 20 minute walk, I arrived at the gate to a sight that left me in awe. The plane was massive! A four engine double-decker monster, probably capable of unholy speeds on the ground as it built up for lift-off. I’ve been on quite a few flights before, but never on one this size. As I walked onto the plane, to my surprise, they ushered me upstairs. I got to the top and turned to see a very smiley stewardess who, after taking my ticket, showed me to my place. The seat was enormous! Twice the size of a normal one and with enough leg room space to put a large dog kennel or maybe even a complete scalectric train track. There were seven rows of seats upstairs with 4 per row. I had no-one sitting next to me, not that I would have noticed anyway! I didn’t have a window at my seat, I had FOUR! On my left I had a little compartment to place all my stuff. A bit like an over-head luggage compartment (which I had as well) but to the side of me, which double up as a glass holder. One of the arm rests opened up and unfolded a table and the other unfolded a mini T.V. Both had their own little controls too. One side had the one for changing the channels and the other one had them for seat controls. Legs go up, legs go down, legs go up, legs go down. The whole seat opened up and tilted back to make a “nearly-bed” and you could adjust sections in your lower back for utmost comfort. Anyway, by the end of the trip, I’d managed to brake the “legs-go-down” button but I didn’t tell them anything. I just took the free blanket, toothbrush and mini toothpaste and skidaddled outta there! I think I pissed a few of my fellow passengers off with the noise but they were all pompous businessey type people anyway, rah-rahing on about percentages and flow-charts so I was quite smug at that one. I don’t think I got much more than an hours sleep with all the entertainment around. I kept going round for walks on the plane, chatting to fellow non-sleepers and feeling guilty as hell, seeing all the people down in Economy, sleeping very uncomfortably, and knowing that really, it should be me right there. Even the Business Class section downstairs, that seemed to be funnelled into the front of the plane wasn’t as cool as the one upstairs. We had a bar and first class service, lovely meals served by sexy waitresses and a choice of films to rival any ten-screen Odeon cinema!!! Apart from the fact they were all pretty old films ;-) Anyway, we arrived in Hong Kong in a blanket of cloud and saw nothing apart from the last few seconds of our landing. Hong Kong is pretty amazing. I ambled around for a while after checking in my guitar and shoulder bag overnight at the airport, but I was still buzzing from the flight. The more I looked at it, the more I kept thinking back to the guy at the check-in counter. Was the colour of my hair working to my benefit now! If there’s a moral to the story after all that then maybe its something like… you know what I’m gonna say: It pays to look gay!