M. is on the loose (or, inside an airconditioned building)

All the remnants of the typhoon have been swept away to Vietnam. It is a very clear, hot and sunny day in Hong Kong.

M.'s forays into the streets of Hong Kong so far have been somewhat limited. On Monday he was complaining of trench feet, having traipsed around in torrential sheets of rain. When I took him to Kowloon at night his interest in Temple Street market was markedly diminished by untimely hunger. A walk around Happy Valley at night was also humid and hot. I told him to try the trail up to the Peak today.
"It's a really sunny day outside, you should try it," I said.
"If I walk that in this heat, I'll die," he said.
I think I understand what M. feels. I am definitely past enjoying romantic ideals of 'roughing it' - cold showers, uncomfortable bunk beds in dodgy dorms, cheap beer and insane food (just because the locals like locusts doesn't mean I have to) don't appeal to me in the same way as the thought of a well-stocked mini bar inside a five star hotel. I would like to think this is not because I am snobbish but rather because I don't think I can handle the alternative as well as I used to. Having seen Liddle Sis go through her food poisoning saga and having gone through some of my own, I find my feet voting for plush hotel lounges. Sweaty adventures are all very well and good but sometimes airconditioning works, too.

If you are around Happy Valley, Causeway Bay or Central, you may well see a tall guy wearing a Man. U. shirt listening to music inside a nice, cool Starbucks....