We are sitting in a ritzy open air Russian cafe on the Dadonghai coastal strip of Hainan Island in China.
A tropical storm has imprisoned us here.
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We’ve been on the run for over a week now. It all began with a Air Asia flight to Kuala Lumpur, which was fortunately without incident albeit uncomfortable. I did my best to contract Durian poisoning while Veronica tried to track down her Malaysian boss who has been hiding from her in KL. We eventually found his Clinic but he had somehow gotten wind of the approaching Dragon Lady and fled.
We checked out of our KL hotel at 4 am and took a hair-raising, one hour taxi ride to the airport for our flight to China.
“Sorry sir, your flight has been cancelled, come back tomorrow.”
“Sorry sir, your flight has been cancelled, come back tomorrow.”
Various textures of excretement hit the aircon before they consented to putting us up in a ghost town on the outskirts of KL. It was a reasonable hotel surrounded by reflexology brothels and hundreds of deserted shops.
We arrived in Haikou ( Capital of Hainan Island ) a day late. The official welcoming party tried to explain to us that there was no bus and their overpriced taxis were the only option. We eventually arrived at the Banana Hostel after a series of bus trips and settled in to playing one of our favourite holiday games – spot the cockroach.
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There are parts of China where a white man can starve.
Last night we stayed in a remote ethnic minority region called Wuzhishan ( Five finger mountain ). The restaurant served up a dish I call Exploded Chicken.
The basic recipe is: One chicken; 6 large mushrooms ( which the chicken has to eat just before going to God ) and a stick of dynamite.
The dynamite is forced inside the chicken and then they blow it up. The resultant mess is gathered up, put in a pot and sauteed in its own urine. Toss in some chilli, garlic and more chilli then serve hot.
Last night we stayed in a remote ethnic minority region called Wuzhishan ( Five finger mountain ). The restaurant served up a dish I call Exploded Chicken.
The basic recipe is: One chicken; 6 large mushrooms ( which the chicken has to eat just before going to God ) and a stick of dynamite.
The dynamite is forced inside the chicken and then they blow it up. The resultant mess is gathered up, put in a pot and sauteed in its own urine. Toss in some chilli, garlic and more chilli then serve hot.
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The previous night, after being eaten alive by mosquitos the size of small birds, we discovered that this area is Malarial. My little Lotus Bud panicked and we made a bee-line for the nearest Yaofang ( Chemist ). I must point out that we have not heard a word of English in 3 days and my Chinese only serves to confuse most people. I asked for quwenji ( mosquito repellant ) but they wanted to give us toilet paper. Veronica immediately drew upon her years of professional acting and started buzzing around the shop, flapping her wings and poking her proboscus-like index finger into the arms of several very distressed looking shop assistants. They asked us to leave.
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As we drove out of town on the first bus this morning I imagined passing a huge under-cover area full of tai chi masters teaching advanced forms in perfect English. Next door was a boutique Coffee House with a large TV screen showing replays of Brisbane Lions Grandfinal wins and episodes of Master Chef. Home suddenly didn’t seem such a bad place.