More holiday tales and sensational photos for you. This week: Hong to the Kong. So, Hong Kong was a funny one. I walked for miles every day, with my heavy camera. But, irrespective of whether the camera was in its bag or around my neck, I didn't use it much. There was a lot to look at, and I'm sure I could have got a far greater number of excellent shots than I did, but I didn't feel entirely comfortable snapping away. Plus, the people were the most interesting - faces, fashions etc - but I rarely photograph people. It just doesn't seem right. Hong Kong is very densely populated, particularly in Mong Kok (where a good proportion of these pictures were taken), so it's hard to take a picture without people thinking you're taking it of them. I'm extremely conscious of the way cameras have infiltrated every part of our lives now - nothing is too sacred or too mundane to be photographed - so this is really my mini-stance against all that.
The above notwithstanding, I do love taking photographs - people and non-people. The camera wasn't completely redundant in Hong Kong either, so here are the results of those instances when it actually got switched on and buttons got pressed etc.
By the way, I had a bit of a spooky experience in Hong Kong. For someone who doesn't believe in spooky experiences, this is no throwaway statement.
I was in a bar and went to use the bathroom, but the door was pushed back when I tried to open it; I assumed someone was already in there. A few minutes later, one of the people I was with said, 'Is someone still in there?'
'No-one has come out,' I replied. She went to the door and opened it. Nobody in there.
'Must have been a draught coming from behind the door - could you feel the resistance when you opened it?' I asked.
When I went in, water was gushing forcefully from the faucet. I turned it off.
I noticed that all the loo paper had gone, even though the roll had been full when I went in the first time and there were only half a dozen women in the bar, including my group and the staff.
On washing my hands, the water wouldn't even come out as strongly as it had been doing when I went in. I also didn't like looking in the mirror (normally LOVE looking in mirrors) but couldn't say why.
The door proved difficult to open again (pulling this time), although I couldn't determine where a draught might have been coming from (it wasn't the most modern facility, though).
I engaged my arm muscles, got the door open and went back to my group. The other girl hadn't seen the water coming out of the tap, either (sink directly in front of door, but she probably didn't open door far enough to see).
Anyway, as I said, I don't believe in stuff like that. Here's Hong Kong.