I got a letter today from China, Hong Kong to be precise. My mail is depressing and so this was a lovely addition, it’s rare I’ll get too many letters from Far East, unless BT, NatWest, Powergen, Liverpool Council, or the people that send parking tickets relocate there, and so this was a treat.
It was from Fook Ping Lau, or ‘George’, the elderly man I met on the 15th of last month in Edinburgh and had a meal with because all the tables were busy. He sent a photograph of the two of us, another couple of himself, and on the back of one was a note;
‘Hi! How’s your trip in Edinburgh? I went for “a one day tour of the highlands� and have had some “horrible� seafood the following day before returning to London. Went to Paris for another five days and “suffered� a lot with the live shellfish / prawns (cooked) of course. Here is a snapshot taken during the Chinese New Year in Kowloon side with your oriental foe in it. Hope you “HATE� the (can’t make out last word). Ciao and Best Wishes, George. Your enemy of course.�
The references to ‘enemy’ and ‘foe’ came about from him saying to me that he has enemies all over the word, and he calls his friends that “because you always keep your enemies closer�. So therefore I can assume he is calling me his friend. I hope that this is the case and he hasn’t forgotten about this discussion, deciding that he does hate me and we are now to be enemies for the rest of time.
It would be unfortunate to have an enemy in Hong Kong, and he’s obviously a successful man with connections, and so that would make pretty much all of China a no-go zone for me. I think I’d rather pick a fight with a Chinese gang than, say, a Japanese gang (gotta fear those Triads) but I think that even a small Chinese gang (in terms of numbers, I’m not making a remark about their size individually – one enemy is enough) would make mincemeat out of me as soon as George gave the word. Indeed, one Chinese man probably would. One Chinese woman probably would. One Chinese hamster.
He also makes quite a lot of references to “horrible� seafood. This is sarcasm because he loves seafood, does George. Probably loves it more than anyone alive. Just to emphasise this, he included this photograph.
On the back of this photograph he’s written “One of the “HORRIBLE� seafood plate in Le Procope, which I “HATED� most of all. 13, Rue del’ Ancienne Comedie, Paris. “HIGHLY RECOMMENDED� by your Enemy.�
Again, I am taking both the “horrible�, “hated� and “enemy� parts to be sarcasm. But looking at it the other way, he could be saying “Here is a horrible meal I ate in a place I hated. Because you are my enemy, I wish you to go there and have as bad a time as me, hopefully getting food poisoning.�
He could also have included a sly little in-joke saying that the restaurant is located at ‘Rue del’ Ancienne Comedie’, implying that my style of comedy is ancient. This would be a devious jibe but if it is the case, I take my hat off to him.
That is not what he’s saying.
It’s very kind of George to write to me, I really like him. I like his style – he packs the wife off on a cruise ship and then just jaunts around the world eating as much seafood as he can in lots of exotic places. He’s well into his seventies and has obviously chosen to get as much out of life as possible, and as much seafood in his belly, without leaving a single stone in the world unturned. And if there’s a little crab under that stone, all the better.
Unfortunately he’s not included a return address. I have his number though, for when he’s in Hong Kong (probably never) so I can call him with my thanks. I’d like his address so that we could become pen pals and send each other photos every so often – me with martinis and him will shellfish.
Here’s the photo of him and I.
On the back he’s written ‘Mussel Inn – 15th August 2006. Presumably – You are recommending something “HORRIBLE� for me to eat. Right.’
I think George would be one the strangest and most entertaining pen pals in the world. I was delighted by his letter.
Also, who’s the woman at the next table? Trying to muscle in on our photo at The Mussel Inn. Look at her smiling face… Who does she think she is? Perhaps it’s his wife, secretly having returned from the cruise ship to stealthily follow her husband around and see what trouble he gets into? She’s thinking ‘Wait until he gets this developed, will he be in for a shock… Packing me off on a bloody cruise ship indeed… He must think I’m an idiot.’
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