on the shitter

After I had checked into my hotel in Hong Kong, I dumped my stuff and went for a stroll. 'Dumped' would prove to be an operative word.

As I meandered down the streets towards the centre of Hong Kong Island, I was struck by the fact that almost all of the shops seemed to devoted to selling bathroom accessories. I must have walked for about half a mile and all I passed was outlet after outlet flogging toilets. It was utterly bizarre. Is there some kind of cottage industry in selling bogs out here or something? And how do you go about buying one? 'Ah, yes, that one looks like it will give optimum comfort while I'm playing Sudoko. Do you mind if I have a test drive?'

My flight to Hong Kong had been relatively straightforward. We were two hours late taking off while waiting for the plane's wings to be de-iced, but from then onwards it was perfectly relaxing. Fortunately I managed to sleep for roughly half of the flight, which given that I was flying with British Airways was a real relief. I've never liked BA. The planes seem cramped and old, and the staff are stuck up and snooty. It's like a glorified airborne Tory Party conference.

The journey from the airport in Hong Kong to my hotel could not have been more straightforward. Everything in this city is clearly signposted and the public transport is extremely efficient. It's almost difficult to believe the British had anything to do with running the place...