One more night

Another day draws to an end; and so the long journey back to Singapore begins. The best way to prepare for a flight to another country is to get plenty of rest and avoid alco- what am I saying? The best way to prep for a journey is to get as tanked up on booze as possible, to the point where you're breathing fumes over the customs officials strong enough to strip the paint from an oil rig, and then you can stumble with happy oblivion over the border from one country to another. That undiscovered country, indeed.

The only possible flaw in this escapade is that my flight isn't until almost 9 tomorrow evening, and I've got to be in the office all day tomorrow, which means that staying out all night and hammering the Cristal isn't really an option. Not on a Tuesday. I'm not some kind of inebriate reprobate, after all.

We went to Posto Publico, which is a Spanish bar. Or an Italian bar. Or a European bar of some sort, but it's a faked up brick interior in the middle of Elgin Street in Hong Kong, which is as far from Europe as you can get and still be surrounded by masses of drunk Europeans. The wine was good, the beer was good, but I had a toilet malfunction five minutes after arriving and ended up with a soaked pair of shorts, so I must have looked like the world's least capable man.

I don't want to think about what I smelled like - I'm hoping that by being parked under the air conditioner it dried out pretty quickly, but we don't know. A reason to be happy that Hong Kong's air conditioning has given me a blocked up nose over the last few days. Well, that was just as pleasant for me to experience as you to read it...

Finished drinking early, which shows a lack of commitment, or funds, or both, came back to go to sleep. Tomorrow I'll probably find I've left something important somewhere. Or something or other like that.