Return

Last night I got back on stage in Hong Kong; I don't think I'd appreciated how much I missed it. Having performed there on an almost weekly basis for four years, everything was where I expected it to be. The microphone stand was the right height, the mike itself wasn't plagued with feedback and every time I got a laugh, it reverberated around the cramped, low-ceilinged room.

I got to wheel out some Singaporean material, partly because of the hen party in the front row, the lucky wife-to-be having her nuptials in Singapore. I could be fairly gentle because a hen party in Hong Kong is a fairly sedate affair, rather than fifteen female cave trolls bellowing while they demand their acquaintance/victim is embarassed and disgusted in equal measure.

And then done, and off to the bar to discuss the evening, and then to bed, where I stayed up too late reading The Spectator, of all things, then woke today, semi-comatose and struggling with life again. I made it through dim sum without collapsing but it was a close run thing. While down in Victoria Park you could see Indonesian ninjas (Indoninjas?) practicing, up in the dim sum joint we had awe-inspiringly grumpy waitresses flinging pens, napkins and anything else onto the table.

You shouldn't fling a pen unless you have a very strong arm; air resistance and its low mass make the action fairly ineffectual. Napkins, doubly so. Well, they have half the effect. Still, that wasn't much help to me in my maudlin state, and even a wander around Causeway Bay afterwards, to the burger joint and the bookshop, failed to lift my spirits. Like I said, you can't really go back.

Back again we went, this time to the restaurant serving chilli crab under the bridge in Wan Chai. You can't miss it - it's called Chilli Crab Under The Bridge. Although if you're not paying much attention you might wander into Under The Bridge Chilli Crab instead.

Even then, looking at overgrown crustacea wasn't quite enough for me, so I got a ticket for Prometheus. I hear it's quite disappointing, which means my expectations are good and low, so I'll probably be quite happy tonight, watching the doom of the human race.