Junk

Today I went out on a junk, for the second time this year. I was surprised: I really don't like junks, because they involve being trapped in a pub-sized space for an entire day, with no means of escape from the other inmates apart from swimming for shore, and then trudging home from some godforsaken beach in the New Territories.

Junk

It's summer in Hong Kong, when people decide it will be fun to spend the day on a boat, drinking.

Surrounded by diesel, and rubbish from other junk trips.

On a hot day, stationary in the beating sun, without even rudimentary air conditioning.

On a hot day, all day. Drinking. In a place with only the most limited access to the written word.

While around you, other people on other junks are all doing much the same thing.