Since leaving Adelaide our travels seem to have gone around in a full circle. I remember eating pizza in a shack-like restaurant in Kings Cross in Sydney almost 3 weeks ago; trying not to look shocked at the girls wearing little more than stretchy belts, whilst policemen with sniffer dogs patrolled the streets. I pointed out to John a portrait of Jesus hanging on the wall. He became the landmark for when we were exploring and needed to get back to our hotel in Potts Point, a leafy classy area just a breath away from all the drugs and vice further up the pavement. Of course we also saw the Opera House and the Sydney Harbour Bridge,

and ate dinner and sat in the sun with Nick and his girlfriend, Kathryn. It wasn’t all hanging out with Jesus and the fallen women!

Scotland was a whirlwind of visiting and not coping at all well with jetlag. I remember eating a lot of toast in the ‘wee sma hours’ and feeling totally zonked most of the time. The highlight for me was a visit from Gerry and Natasha,

while John flew south to meet up with his kids. For us it was a ‘brideshead revisited’ time and most of the talk was of weddings and plans. Of course we all dressed up in our gowns and Natasha looked stunning in hers, me in mine, but Gerry looked the star of the show, and we were both in awe of her in all her splendour. Roll on February when we can dress up for REAL!  In the meantime Natasha is going for a month to China and Gerry is going to Colorado for some induction before taking up her new job in Dublin. Changing times for her and Cathal.

It was lovely to see Edinburgh in the colours of autumn, and walking along the Water of Leith was just so good. We bought loads of second hand books in Stockbridge, as the price of books here in Australia and NZ is just a joke… £7-15 for second hand paperbacks. One of these days I suppose we should buy a Kindle but for the moment, we still hang on to our old ways.

We did take the train to Evesham to visit John’s 97 year old mum and his sister and brother-in-law, and it was such a nice visit.

I slept under ancient beams in a house built in the 16^th Century and which I was told witnessed the Battle of Evesham. I should check my history here, but I think it was all to do with Cromwell and his revolutionary army. I didn’t feel the presence of any ghosts. No doubt they left after Roy started all his renovations, turning Ye Olde Bakery into a family home. I loved waking up and looking out at the red and gold leaves falling past my window… aaaah Yves Montand singing in my head again.

When we landed in Hong Kong, it was as though we hit the ground running, and the whole time we were there we didn’t get a minute to catch our breath. I think I am still hyper-ventilating! John’s son, James, and his girlfriend, Chris, whisked us everywhere. I was asked if there was anywhere special where we would like to go. Long ago I read the book, The World of Suzie Wong, and later saw the film with Nancy Kwan and William Holden, so off we went to Wan Chai and ate the most amazing dinner, then patrolled the ‘girlie’ bars!

Poor James, he was nearly broke as the girls kept massaging our backs and necks and for each little attention they demanded ‘a drink’. I was unaware of the bargaining going on; I just thought they liked us! Two lithe nearly naked ones did a bored sort of dance in front of everyone, and John tried to keep an impassive face as though he wasn’t there… in spite of ‘Karen’ busy massaging and chop chopping his back! A careful study of indifference!

Next day we sailed on the Star Ferry to Kowloon, then drove up to the Peak, and saw the sights and I tried to imagine life in the ‘rich lane’ where people live in the lap of millions. We saw the contrasting lifestyle in Aberdeen harbour where the boat people live on sampans and some never come ashore.

It was a world of contrasts. I loved Soho, where the government have built an amazing elevator system to transport everyone to and from work every day. We sat eating breakfast watching people of all walks of life going up the hill on the moving staircase amidst the ancient buildings.

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Later we caught the ferry to Macau. It was the weekend of the Macau Grand Prix.

The plan was that we were to watch the Formula 3 racing from our Hotel terrace. But first after booking into the 5 star hotel, we met up with lots of James and Chris’s friends (mostly pilots and wives and girlfriends… I checked that they weren’t going to be flying us the next day, as I was a little alarmed at the drink that was being consumed) and we were taken to a quiet Portuguese fishing village which apparently was just how Macau used to be. The food was delicious, Portuguese-Chinese fusion. Rain fell outside the plastic awnings, and I nibbled my crab and prawns and squid, drank loads of Chinese beer when suddenly I realised the restaurant was situated in a church courtyard. And yes… there was the same portrait of Jesus that I saw in Sydney. I asked John to photograph it for me; he had to brave the rain but he took the porticos and the church façade.

The architecture was all so familiar; you could almost imagine you were in a Spanish or Portuguese village.

Then we went on to the casinos. Oh my! One of the pilots told me that more money is made in a month in Macau than in a year in Las Vegas. Well we went in, and I was open mouthed at the sheer opulence and the magnificence of the place.

I wandered about watching the roulette, blackjack, craps, baccarat all going on in a fevered frenzy. Our group did well, many doubled their money, but they were on the cheaper tables, and didn’t take too big a risk. I watched one group of Chinese playing blackjack, it was very tense, and a guy picking his teeth next to me laughed and said, ‘Us Chinese, we go crazy, yes?!’ I could only agree, and then there was a roar as the player just won $10,000!

Luckily I didn’t feel any urge to throw away even one dollar; somehow I would prefer to buy a new lipstick or a pair of shoes!

The following morning John and I escaped from the hotel plushness and wandered out to the street beside the hotel and found a foot massage joint. We were ushered in, and persuaded to have full body massage. We asked for pyjamas, which were later yanked off us, quite without ceremony. I had to giggle, it reminded me of Vladimir in Kiev! It was amazing. Part physiotherapy – my girl had fingers like lobster claws, and she really did her shiatsu stuff, but then she applied the oil, and that was just heaven on earth. Both of us returned to the hotel as floppy as jelly fish. John looked very calm and relaxed and seemed to be enjoying his return to the Far East!

And the racing! I have never been so close to so much noise or speed in my life. I tried to photograph the cars as they roared past, but sadly each time all I got was another picture of the road.

There were screens recording the races so we could see where the cars were careering off to after they whizzed past us. It was actually very exciting, and I was surprised. I didn’t expect to enjoy it at all.

John and I decided to go for a walk afterwards, in order to see Macau properly. We took a taxi as the warren of streets were a nightmare and so many were closed off because of the racing, but when we arrived at St Domingo’s cathedral the crowds who had been watching the race all decided they were going home, and we were marooned without a hope in hell of ever getting a taxi.

We quickly looked at the historic square, a juxtaposition of ancient brushing against Macdonalds and Body Shop, then tried to decipher a map (all in Chinese). By this time John was getting snappy, ‘Where are we? What direction is the hotel?’ and I studied the map, trying to look intelligent and make out the Chinese writing… hmmm – tense moments. We walked and walked, and the sun set. We stopped and had watermelon juice beside a strange reconstruction of the Queen’s royal carriage (???) then plodded on, criss-crossing the streets, until we finally got to a casino that we sort of remembered. The taxi queue was about 40 people long. We decided to take our chances. The minutes ticked to nearly an hour, and we were supposed to catch the ferry to Hong Kong at 7 p.m. Both of us were getting a little anxious. Our flight to Adelaide left at 10.45! Our phones didn’t work and no one on the planet knew where we were! Meanwhile, whilst standing in the taxi queue, we listened to a rendition of Shirley Bassey singing ‘Diamonds are forever’ and the fountains in front of the casino were keeping time, dancing, and undulating and changing colour. Quite impressive. If we hadn’t been so stressed it might have been more fun. Eventually I did a crying maiden act to the concierge and we were able to hire a private car (at great expense) and we got back, at one minute to 7!

And now we are back in Adelaide. Not in our beautiful ocean view apartment, instead we are only a spit away from Chinatown and Victoria Market.

These next few weeks will be different, but that is good. This apartment is adequate, it’s clean, and has all the necessary things for our comfort. The street outside has an avenue of Jacaranda trees which must have been stunning a week or so ago but the petals are falling now, making a purple carpet on the pavements.

We will only be here for a couple of weeks we think, so we must just keep positive and enjoy it all whilst we can. On Wednesday I have booked tickets for us to go and see Eddie Izzard! How amazing is that!