In six weeks, we’re moving out of Pak Wai and into Lung Mei. This will be our final move, and we are desperate for it. We haven’t slept in our own bed since 3 December. Hurts. We are living in wrinkled clothes we pull out of vac-pacs. Many suitcases are crammed into the spare room which could otherwise be occupied by our much, much, much, much, much-needed (but yet to be hired) helper. Our cats are languishing in a cattery 10km down the road. Our shipped goods remain in a warehouse somewhere on the docks.
Though we are happy enough in Pak Wai (especially with its walking distance to both Ru’s kinder AND a Wellcome, purveyor of three-for-AU$2 massive Tsingtaos), we need to settle somewhere. This feeling of statelessness isn’t good for any of us. It will take a measure of resolve to get through the next six weeks without killing each other (through cramped frustration, or just tripping over an errant suitcase) or one of the aforementioned fucking chihuahuas (sure there’s no room to swing a cat in our place, but I could find room to swing a beribboned “dog”, yes I could…)
To appease our anchorless discomfort somewhat, this weekend we took a stroll up to Lung Mei to see our new house. Lung Mei means “Little Dragon” (we think. Any prospective Cantonese readers, please don’t correct me if I’m wrong. Living in a village called Little Dragon is too rad.) I’ve already posted photos of the wonderful house we’re lucky enough to be moving into. See now the path we will have to walk up and down to get to Sai Kung Town. It takes 10 minutes each way (+10 minutes for current unfitness, +23 minutes compensating for shitty fold-up pram definitely not designed for uphill hikes).
There are a few old dwellings near the start of the path. You get the impression life hasn’t changed much around here in a while.
Lung Mei there in the distance.
There’s our house, in the middle with the red roof.
Looking back towards town.
Back at the bottom of the trail again, about to cross onto the main road, who do we run into casually sauntering down the footpath but one of the herd of wild cows that roams Sai Kung. Of course, the one with horns and testicles.
Joel chose this moment to tell me that in summer the path will also be replete with cobras and pythons, so I will have to walk along tapping a stick to scare them off. So in 90% humidity, while lugging a steno machine, laptop and handbag up or down a really steep hill, I also have to tap constantly with a stick, while not startling a bull and also avoiding stepping in cow pats in my thonged feet (dude you would not walk this path in your work heels). And then I’ve still got to catch a minibus and two trains to get to the civilisation of Hong Kong Island. Lucky it’s a nice walk, I tell you what. And I sure do wish I’d have the time to relax and enjoy it instead of gingerly deploying preventative farming techniques.