To reach the Sha-mien—and particularly the Hotel Victoria—one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and children in varied shades of faded blue cotton. My Mom and Dad were on the brink of divorce, what else is new, they still are. Some of the delicate colour which the afternoon walk had brought into her cheeks had already returned. I’m not Gerald, remember. ‘For my part, I am in no hurry to end this exciting little adventure. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind.
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