Hong Kong

After spending all day in Brisbane airport and eight hours on a plane I'm tired. I look at the email Mr Chen sent me which scares me a little.

I'd booked my budget accommodation on Nathan Road (Hong Kong is expensive) through a great little website called www.trav.com. A couple of days later I received an email from Mr Chen giving me intructions on how to get there. Every second line mentioned people 'cheating me' in capital letters so I wasn't to talk to anyone, tell anyone where I was going or show anyone anything. 'THEY WILL CHEAT YOU' was firmly engrained in my brain. Have the Triads taken over Hong kong?

I call Mr Chen when I land at midnight and he tells me to go to the Holiday Inn and call him from there. At the plush hotel the porter takes my bags and asks me if I want to check in. How awkward. In a meek voice I say I'd like to make a phone call as I'm waiting for my 'friend'. I don't want to say 'Mr Chen' in case I look like a lady of the night, but I'm certainly not well-dressed enough to be one of those.

While I'm waiting I'm hoping Mr Chen's 'hotel' is as nice as this one but I know it won't be. Ten minutes later Mr Chen shows up in the lobby and says 'this way'. I'm too tired to ask questions or worry, so I follow him on to the neon highway that is Nathan Road and into a shabby labyrinthine building. There's rubbish everywhere and it smells of wee.

We take lift up to the 14th floor and enter a tiny reception crowded with random items. Mr Chen shows me to my room. It's the smallest room I've ever seen. Like a cupboard with a bed. There's a shower cubicle with taps off the wall. It reminds me of a marine shower. I spend a couple of seconds wondering where to put my backpack and realise I can only put it on the floor. I'll have to climb over it to get in and out of bed. The air conditioning rattles like an unfastened gate in the wind. At least it's clean.