We are now in Scotland; Ayr to be precise. I love Scotland because there are more redheads per square metre here than in any other place on the planet. Having said that, it is necessary to be a bit careful because they are a volatile bunch. I’ll let John Cleese take over here temporarily and he’s talking about security threat levels as in the American Defcon 1-5 and the English version which ranges from “miffed” through “peeved”, “irritated”, “a bit cross” to “a bloody nuisance” which was last invoked in 1588 when the Spanish Armada threatened.

“The Scots have raised their threat level from “Pissed Off” to “Let’s get the Bastards.” They don’t have any other levels. This is the reason they have been used on the front line of the British army for 300 years.”

Thank you John.

So I suggested to the CB that she not irritate the locals. This is somewhat problematic because she has recently taken to suggesting better or more interesting ways to cook food to waiters in restaurants. As long as this happens after the food has been delivered I am sort of okay with it. Doing it beforehand is really asking for trouble (or food poisoning).

But let’s backtrack a bit first because we had a few terrific days in England. England is part of Great Britain which if we’re completely honest is better described as “Fair to Middling Britain” these days. But after all of England went ape-shit due to winning a penalty shootout to advance to the last eight of the World Cup, try telling that to anyone from Carlisle to Bournemouth. I know I’m mixing countries here, but it’s my blog. However the places we go to and the people we see (mostly relatives) still qualify for greatness I have say.

So after a few days of “hostile hospitality” (a phrase coined by a very good friend of mine in India who was and is peerless in this regard), the CB and I are now able to regroup and do a bit of touristy stuff.

Still on England, many years ago Francis Rossi asked his legion of fans “Would you like to ride my Deutche car”. If this is a bit esoteric for some, refer to Status Quo’s classic song “Paper Plane”. The legion responded by saying they would like to ride in a Deutche car but not his and promptly went out and bought their own. Consequently every second person owns a BMW / Audi / Mercedes / Volkswagen (strikeout whichever is not applicable). Either there’s a massive amount or wealth in this country, a massive amount of debt or we in Australia are being massively ripped off. It reminds me of Cambodia where every second car is a Lexus. That’s a Machu Picchu-like mystery which no one has been able to adequately explain to me yet.

The real Scotland experience starts tomorrow when we visit Fort William and seek out some Scotch distilleries. Hopefully the child bride won’t start telling them where they’re going wrong.

We haven’t hit Europe’s impressive river system yet. That’s about 10 days away. First up is visits with rarely seen relatives and some wonderful (if you call a raging hangover wonderful) reunions. So the title of this and the next few entries will be something of a misnomer. So, from the beginning.

The CB and I are now winging our way to London. A break of almost a day in Hong Kong was nice. The CB hasn’t been here for years and it’s changed a bit. However it’s good to be back on our way to the final destination. Actually that’s an interim final destination – Manchester and probably better described as “the start” as Hong Kong has been designated Day Zero. The “final” final destination is Budapest in four weeks.

Anyway, it was a good day spoiled by the fact we have been given the two middle seats of a row of four on our flight to London. Those of you who have read my previous travel stuff will know I am a firm believer in frequent traveller privilege. That’s a bit like white privilege but not as insanely PC. We are in premium economy with seats configured 2-4-2. Qantas wouldn’t have dared put us in those seats but we are on British Airways and despite the fact I was born in England, I suspect winning back the Ashes hasn’t counted in my favour. And just for the record, when sitting in a Cathay Pacific premium economy seat, I can’t reach the seat in front of me. On BA I can almost reach the seat in front with my elbow. And not to labour the point (much) when the seats are dropped back for sleeping (they go back a long way – big plus), I am trapped.

But let’s scroll back. The flight to Honkers was fine. I had an aisle seat. Okay, okay, enough. Pretty uneventful. Airline coffee is not remotely like real coffee and I fell asleep before Stephen Hawking had got though the two years he was initially given to live, in the movie about his life. Did you know he outlived his doctors?

It’s August so Hong Kong is hot and sweaty. Notwithstanding, the usual haze was absent so the CB and I got the Peak Tram up to the Peak (funnily enough) to look at one of the most spectacular views in the world. We had to queue for about half an hour. Not too bad considering the time of year but I am willing to bet money that in all of that time we didn’t encounter one member of Asia’s most exclusive club – the Personal Space Appreciation Society. When I traveled frequently for a living and especially during the period when I had a pathological hatred of wheeled luggage, I used to carry a suit bag, the sort that carried a week’s worth of clothing, a couple of pairs of shoes and a spare book. If anyone nudged up behind me, they wore that bag which could be swung around savagely, ostensibly to realign it on my shoulder. In these circumstances I’m always reminded of a sketch on the old Dave Allen (the late great Irish comedian) Show where about eight cloth capped workers marched into the sardine factory, for want of a better phrase, dick to bum.

A few cold beers and a bit of pub food in Lan Kwai Fong (see previous post, A Week in Honkers) and we were knackered. It would have been almost unbearable had we not been able to walk almost all of the way from Hong Kong station to the Peak Tram station, undercover and mostly in air conditioning. The walk-way system round Central is brilliant.

We have now landed in London. Immigration hasn’t improved since last time (see European Safari). We faced long queues, minimal personnel and total indifference. If minimum airline connection times used Heathrow as their base line, they’d all be increased by an hour.

To finish Day Zero on a positive note, the weather is excellent…….but we haven’t got to Manchester just yet – sorry, couldn’t help myself.