Hong Kong Diaries 5: It's All Gone Suzie Wong

Ben Zabulis (centre, black T-shirt) enjoys champagne with teammates at the finish line

Years ago, with last bus long gone and no dosh to hail a taxi, I would find myself stepping blearily out of the Palais or Rock City early hours to embark upon a tedious traipse across NG5 to the boondocks of Arnold. Of course, the quiet and loneliness of such a ridiculous nocturnal activity affords one a generous dollop of rumination, typically along the lines of why, besides  exercise or saving money I didn’t have, am I doing this and might it ever lead to more than a good kip at home -surely there’s a calling here. Answer came there none, well, not until twenty years later when I found myself traipsing equally tediously and blearily (though for different reasons) across the boondocks of Hong Kong.

For some daft (but noble) reason I had gotten involved with, and seriously addicted to, Oxfam Trailwalker – hence my crepuscular creepings through the Asian wilderness. It’s a charity event and if I explain that it was inaugurated in 1981 as a Gurkha training exercise then you’ll appreciate this is no ordinary sponsored do; in short it’s a masochistic 100km hike (for teams of 4) against the clock, 20 hills with an accumulated rise allegedly equal to Everest – the Gurkhas quite literally walk it, lesser mortals crawl.

This year’s has just finished, was I there? No, wish I was. Amazingly there’s so many up for it that it’s nigh impossible to get a place, 5,200 participants raised a splendid 5 million quid. The winners were a local team who arrived in just under 12 hours, the slowest took 47 and the best we did in our day was 24.5, not bad for office-wallah weedies! Incidentally, UK’s own Oxfam Trailwalker spills across the South Downs and yes, the Gurkhas imported it from Hong Kong after the garrison was disbanded in 1997 – be warned, you may wish to heed the organisers’ advice re insurance covering ‘death’!!

Macau circuit

Talking of death-defying deeds, now’s the season to mention another sporting epic though admittedly a more glam one altogether. It’s an event which grabbed my imagination way back in the early 70s and doubtless marked me as a complete weirdo. Whereas most kids at Claremont School worshipped the City Ground’s hallowed turf, dreamt of a Neil Martin or Martin O’Neil kick, my focus roared east to a tiny Portuguese enclave and a Worcester man by the name of John MacDonald.

I refer of course to the Macau Grand Prix next-door. You can keep your recent influx of modern FI arena for Macau is the real thing, the stuff of legend, a narrow street circuit unchanged since conception in 1954 – tight, bumpy, hilly, evocative names such as Faraway Hill, Moorish Hill and Maternity Bend (don’t ask!) and with a long straight that draws 171mph out of the current F3 crop. It’s too small a place to take bigger machines, they won’t fell trees to accommodate ‘em - tell that to Donington Park! John Macdonald went to Hong Kong on National Service, stayed, established a garage business and began to race cars and bikes to become the most successful participant of the era – that I should one day traipse that hallowed tarmac is a dream come true.

The event is regarded as one of the most challenging races anywhere; champions have cut their teeth here, think Senna and Schumacher for starters.  This year another name stirred schoolboy memories, that of Teddy Yip. Not the Teddy Yip (he died in 2003 aged 96) but junior who recently resurrected dad’s team to commemorate the 30th anniversary of Ayrton Senna’s win in their car, victors again this year by the way. Yip senior entered a variety of formulae in Europe and US, cars emblazoned with ‘funny’ Chinese writing which may have unwittingly instilled in me a fascination with these parts – well, it’s taken 40 years but at least I can read the bloody things now, even at that speed.

A very silent protest

Now a bit to compensate me school pal footie fans. We don’t normally associate Hong Kong with a huge football presence but nowt could be further from the truth. At amateur level its huge, everyman and his kid play, the Premier League is massive; there’s even a Chelsea soccer school and a Man U pub. Some of you may recall Forest’s Neil Webb enjoying a stint here in the 90s. And recently Hong Kong held China to two goalless rounds in the World Cup qualifiers, a great achievement which, resources-wise, would be like Arnold Town holding Brazil to a draw. Interestingly the first tie endured a bit of argy-bargy when local fans booed the Chinese anthem, FIFA threatened disciplinary action and the culprits warned to behave better next game. They did. Instead of an audible disapproval of March of the Volunteers fans silently held placards aloft bearing the word ‘Boo’ in English – ingenious dissent methinks!

 

Departing from this sporting theme, we’re marking 55 years since the cinematic release of The World of Suzie Wong. Yes you old romantics it really is that long. A film starring William Holden and Nancy Kwan, not a bad view and although storyline liberties arise, it follows the meandering liaison between artist, Robert Lomax and Suzie, a young prostitute.

The fictious Nam Kok Hotel, a brothel, was based on an establishment where the author Richard Mason once stayed, it’s still there but like most of Wanchai smartly redeveloped, the red lights have dimmed and the chance of an exotic how’s-yer-father now spreads wider, so to speak. Long ago I picked up a first edition of the book at Geoff Blore’s in Sherwood but put it aside to read here later – an extra dimension to any book if read in location. By coincidence it was published the year I was born and features a character called Ben, ‘intelligent and charming’ said Suzie, ‘early middle-age; fair, good-looking’ reckoned Robert. I know what you’re thinking, how uncanny is that…

Ben Zabulis is the author of Chartered Territory An Engineer Abroad.