Snot all it's cracked up to be

Having been away from Hong Kong for ten days, I'd missed out on its many beautiful sights, not least a man picking his nose on the platform of the MTR.

Advertising on the MTR - slight return

It's been a while since I've seen really idiotic advertising in the MTR. Or perhaps I'm inured to it, having walked past countless pictures of pseudo-models advertising breast enlargement cream / slimming pills / scowling lessons in these past few years.

But today as I strolled through the concourse, an ad for Hitachi air conditioners caught my eye.

Butterflies

Walking through the concourse of the MTR station, I saw a butterfly fluttering across the floor; baffled, perhaps, by fluorescent lighting, it was flitting around at shoe level in the tiled expanse.

Happy on the train

Today on the train I saw somebody who was happy, which is a rarity on the MTR and unheard of in the morning rush hour. She was crammed into the corner by the doors and talking on her phone to somebody else.

This also marked her out as an aberration, because nobody ever uses their phone to talk to anyone when they're on the MTR (unless their phone isn't really a phone, but is some kind of tablet). So I guess she must be a recent arrival to Hong Kong or a holidaymaker, ignorant of the particular manners in this country that demand everyone is grumpy on public transport.

Fortunately, there wasn't another face in the carriage that didn't look like a slapped arse/a bulldog licking piss off a thistle/your own favourite simile, so I didn't get confused and think I'd boarded a train for another country by mistake.

Like Taiwan, perhaps.

On the train this evening, there is a strong smell of farts. So this, perhaps, is my day: gloomy people in the morning, flatulent people in the evening, and air conditioning in between. There was probably some salad in there too, but that isn't something to mention here.

Life on the MTR

I love the MTR. It provides constant opportunities to observe humanity. And get shoved in the ribs.

An unexpected discovery at Central MTR

As usual, I took the MTR home from Central today. I saw something quite odd, that I've seen many times before yet never realised.

Heating up again

Hong Kong has suddenly got warm again. After almost two months of damp chilliness, just as I prepare to fly off to Japan, where conditions are still baltic, the sun comes out again. It's almost like I'm cursed, a Flying Dutchman doomed to always avoid clement weather.

Getting off on the MTR

I've written before about the mystical gweilo power and the abilities it confers on otherwise unremarkable Europeans. One place gweilo power isn't so great is navigating the MTR. Rather than the hordes of locals recognising the White Man's Burden (in this case, an overfull rucksack) and parting like the Red Sea before Moses, the crowds shuffle and give no quarter.

Etiquette

I went to the gym today and burned off at least a packet of crisps and a bottle of Pocari Sweat (the best-selling perspiration flavour sports beverage in the Orient), but perhaps not all the pineapple cakes I'd been stuffing in my gob all day, to distract myself from the heart-breaking ennui of my daily existence.

Going out in style

I went to see Avatar last night; it was all I could have hoped for; computer generated images galore, realistic looking hair (how far we've moved on since Toy Story and the unpleasantly unrealistic looking dog) and no script whatsoever. It was certainly nice to watch various exotic animals swooping around through imaginary landscapes, but I could help but pause occasionally, noticing that the plot made. No. Sense. At. All.

But it was two hours of mindless escapism, and another forty minutes of Stuff Blowing Up. I enjoyed it a lot.