*sniff*

I'm back in Bangkok. But I’m really in it this time. I flew from HK to here this evening and got a taxi to my hotel. I was so crazily worked up over that taxi. They usen’t have a good name in Thailand, but I didn’t really have a choice for getting to the hotel. Once I’d persuaded him to put on the meter, informed him that this was my third time in Thailand, and told him all about my good friend (who was male) that I was going to meet and travel to Chiang Mai for a week with, everything was fine. Paranoia is debilitating. In my mind I had him made out to be a secret royal mafia chauvinist who was trying to get me to bad mouth his highness so I’d be imprisoned. And he could steal all my prescription drugs.

I’m on the 20th floor of a smelly little hotel with no free internet, so this is unlive blogging again. Wait, I’ve just checked, and I can get it, but I’m in pyjamas... and the guy at the desk said I couldn’t get it anywhere but the lobby. WHAT TO DO?!

Anyway, the hotel is probably fine, but I’ve just come from Hong Kong. And Taiwan. Where I was in a PALACE. So, yeah. Downgrade. I’m here because I meet the tour here on Monday (my male friend from above doesn’t exist, in case you haven’t twigged yet) and I didn’t want to be taking anymore taxis than the one from the airport. There, they keep a record of your taxi and your address and give you a complaint form which the drivers sometimes try to take from you. I’ve read up on my taxis. But back to the hotel. The air conditioning is noisy, the bed is floppy and there’s a weird smell around the bathroom door. But I have National Geographic and a "Zhang Ziyi Visits..." marathon. We’re just back from Oman and currently in Inner Mongolia “which is a part of China and bordered by the independent country of Mongolia.” She’s doing a photoshoot in the steppes and thinks Catering is more like a barbeque with her friends. Isn’t that sweet? Forget the Sherpa. I want her crew to bring me around the world next time I travel. At least three people put her jacket on after every session. AND someone holds her hair back while she’s being interviewed. They don’t even bother to tie it up. Oh, and you just missed the ad for “lastikman ultraman fantasticman” and some of their friends. Darn.

So, back to Hong Kong. Ah Hong Kong. Guangzhou, Taiwan, Bangkok... they all just throw up how much better Hong Kong is. I was beside a Spaniard on the plane who much preferred Thailand (!), but he had had a bad experience with his hostels/hotels. I don’t understand why people don’t book in advance. Imagine arriving in Hong Kong at night and walking up Nathan Road with your backpack, looking for somewhere to stay. Or, just imagine doing that in Limerick. Whatever. I wouldn’t. And though my hostel wasn’t perfect, it was quite nice, and definitely better than a lot of what you hear about in HK.

There’s a perfectly serious ad on for a crazy looking Indian film called Naadodigal now...

Anyway, got back to Hong Kong on Thursday and slept for a while. Early flights ruin your whole day. You get up so early that you have to spend the rest of the day either sleeping, or wishing you were asleep and hating the city for keeping you from a bed. So I slept, rested, checked email and admired the view. We were upgraded to a suite since there had been a fire alarm in the middle of the night the last day we were here (part of the reason I was so exhausted in Taiwan), and we had a magnificent view of the entire harbour.

The following day we visited Man Mo temple and admired the giant incense spirals. And took some sneaky photos. Shh. Then we rode the escalators up to the mid levels. That was amusing. And if I ever live in HK, it’ll be around Soho or Boho. Who wants to walk uphill when there’s a public escalator right there?! We walked back down to Central, and got the Peak Tram again, to see how much has changed since the last time Daddy was here. The walk down was actually like walking through a concrete jungle. There were all these bushes planted in concrete that was the base of the pillars that held up the many roads above us. Up the peak this time, I knew how not to get trapped in the Peak Tower shopping centre, so we admired the view from the hill (Naadodigal just came on again. I’m never, ever going to India.) and had some lovely tomato and basil soup (oh lord, I’m going to cry again... real food!). Daddy had to go back to the hotel then, so I decided to try my luck at getting to the observation deck in the Bank of China building. It was convoluted, security paranoid, and didn’t have great views, but I made friends with the x-ray lady and now have bragging rights. And in case you’re not impressed, that’s the angular one with the white criss-cross stripes.

Dum dee dum...

Zhang Ziyi is back on in a “China’s Hollywood” special. For some reason they have a little Irish ditty on tin whistle playing in the background all the time. Annoying. And since we’re only on 'Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon’, she hasn’t learned English yet, so it’s up to an overly enthusiastic voice over. OH! The had a premier party in Lijiang! I was there! I was there!

Maybe I’ll sleep for a while now.