Look at this photo. Dawn, right? Just starting to get light? Wrong. It’s my camera that’s so great, it can take photos even when it’s too dark for the human eye to see anything, and →
Last month I went to Hunan province and after a few minutes there was overcome with shark flu (or some other fierce animal) – awful. Just awful. Anyway, so today, instead of advising you on →
Do you live in Hong Kong? Have you lived here for a number of years? (Any number higher than, say, one?) Then you must already be starting to get sick of people leaving. Now it’s →
Woo-hooo! WE did that! the happy cooks A, K and D are beaming, so pleased with themselves after studying Sichuan cooking for only two hours. (Chuanxing village spicy potato cake) Now you can also learn →
This week my first specialised crash course kicked off, with two excellent and fast learners, working titles ah-Lei and ah-Ga. In only two and a half hours, they learnt enough Cantonese to go into any →
Here is an article I wrote about one of my favourite books: Gone With the Wind. What does it have to do with Cantonese? Hmmm… not much. Nothing really. Except we’re the Southerners being overrun →
Chinese characters (normal, not simplified) are beautiful, aren’t they? Even ordinary words like ‘toilet’ look somehow elevated to a higher sphere when they’re written with a brush, or printed for that matter. Not that the →
People are busy and don’t always have time to commit to one or two hours of studying Cantonese every week. But does that mean you can’t learn Cantonese? NO! With Happy Jellyfish Language Bureau’s many →
Everyone who travels in China for more than, say, five minutes, has something to say about her toilets. But I stand by my column (above) – they are nothing! Nothing, compared to only a few →
When I started learning Cantonese there was no shortage of Chinese people warning me against it. At that time the most common refrain was: “It’s too difficult – for you“. OK, maybe they didn’t emphasise →
Last weekend a group of three ecstatic revellers hopped on the ferry to Jung Saan (Zhongshan) and got straight in a taxi at the ferry pier and darted into the hinterland. In the lovely, slightly →
Guangdong is the best province in China, and not because of Cantonese! It’s got the friendliest people and the best hovelage. And today I’m off to savour her charms again! I just thought I’d share →
As I was looking through my old columns from South China Morning Post trying to get some other newspaper gigs (do newspapers even exist anymore?) I found the above story from Norway. Allowed only 450 →
Nick (a.k.a. Cassette) and I go to an Italian restaurant in the throbbing metropolis of Mui Wo, centre of the universe and make a programme about lots of interesting things – specifically the idiotic spelling →
Yesterday I had an email from a … person, who said: “I sobbed vehemently when I saw your last Sunday Morning Post entry had come and gone.” Me too, mate, me too. Except I didn’t →
July 1st! July 1st! That day in year zero for Hong Kong, 1997, it was rather wet. OK, it torrentially bucketed down for about three weeks before and after that momentous day. Coincidence? I think →
It’s so much fun to have friends visiting Hong Kong, especially when the day they arrive kicks off a week of unprecedented beautiful weather! I shouldn’t say unprecedented; the weather was probably like this every →
Hello everybody, welcome to my roof! I normally arrange Sichuan dinners and lunches there, but this time it doubled as a recording studio for the best Cantonese news currently available on cassette! (And telex.) Talking →
A couple of weeks ago I interviewed the beautiful and delightful Zein Williams, mother of three and tireless champion for the Nepali people about her life and work – with the earthquake victims especially – →
Oh Cassette! Two weeks ago we went up to Guangzhou to see him live in his stand-up glory at a place called… Panda something? No! Paddyfield, an Irish pub right behind the Garden Hotel. Cassette →
Life is funny eh? You think you know something or at least are fairly familiar with something, and then something happens that sends your whole world view tumbling to the ground.
Me, I thought I knew a bit of English, at least enough to get around. The other night proved me wrong. I was coming off the ferry in Mui Wo, cold and bothered after another sub-Arctic half an hour and was relieved to spot a taxi at the pier. Now I wouldn’t have to wait ten minutes for the bus that may or may not take me on a horrible 12 minute detour around Mui Wo Market, a distance even the most decrepit can easily cover on foot much faster than it takes the bus to drag its tired body around, what with the 60,000 traffic lights permanently stuck on red.
Now I would be home in nine minutes! I saw a couple behind me and as usual I offered fellow wanderers a lift, telling them I was going to Pui O. “Oh, you can just drop us off at [mumble mumble]” the man, a corpulent Englishman, said breezily.
Not a problem. We all got in and he proceeded to tell the taxi driver to go to – Mui Wo Market! My jaw dropped so far, it took several seconds and the car speeding off before I managed to hoik it up again. “That’s not dropping you off, that’s an enormous detour!” “Oh, I’ll pay 20 dollars,” he said, still breezily, adding “we always take a taxi home.”
I couldn’t say a word for the rest of the trip, staring stonily ahead as they struggled out without a word of thanks. When I came down the hill near Pui O 20 minutes later, it was to see the lovely sight of the arse of bus number 1, stopping at every bus stop and taking its good time about it too.
So the result was that I got home a little later than I would if I had taken the bus, but got to pay $35 more.
However, I got something out of it: I found out that while I was sleeping, the English expression “dropping off” had taken on a completely new meaning.
英文 (Ying Man – English language)
一對夫婦 (Yat deui fu fu – a married couple)
車我去 (Cheh o heui – drive me to)
Oh! Oh! Oh! USA! Talk about the exact opposite of Mexico – at least Mexico City and Horn Cow. In those two places, everyone lives behind high walls and sturdy gates. And according to my →
You will forgive me for my thoughts and feelings straying somewhat from Cantonese recently. It’s all about the Spanish now. Now, for example, I’m in Cuernavaca which interestingly means Horn Cow. It’s a beautiful, hilly →
Let me just say, any town where this is the central post office has my vote! Yesterday as we were driving and walking around downtown Mexico City, I shouted out loud with joy several times. →
Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! This is even better than I had envisaged. It feels indescribably good to walk on cobblestoned streets knowing that the same houses were here 200 years ago. I can’t remember the →
Thank you for not being an arse? That was my first reaction. Then I thought: That doesn’t make sense. Why would someone put a sign saying Thank you for not being an arse on their →
Hong Kong’s airport – don’t you just love it? I do. It’s so so airport-y! I had been looking forward to spending a couple of hours there before my flight to Mexico (I’m now in →
I’m so afraid of the dentist, I go every four months. That sounds like a contradiction and a half, but it’s true. Going every four months gives me peace of mind and no cavities. (Also, →
Where are these people going? Could they be going to the headquarters of venerable bank HSBC, you know, The World’s Local Bank that you can only access if you live in China or Hong Kong →
Ahhrghhh! I normally love making and editing films but this one from Hainan Island is dragging. Is it because I made it a long time ago and it’s no longer fresh? Or is it because →
Wei wei wei, do you remember Naked Cantonese on RTHK? I do. Oh, happy times with ah-Sa! The laughter, the tears! We travelled to public toilets and other wonderful places; one one weird occasion we →
