Sitting in the garden of our modest flat, I am enjoying the mid-morning sights and sounds of Lamma Island. The deafening, grinding, drilling noise as two octogenarian Chinese gentlemen struggle with a pneumatic drill which they share to dig up the narrow concrete pathway that connects the traditional three storey houses of Wang Long Village.
To my right, the sound of Abba’s "Dancing Queen" pounds out at some considerable volume from the home of our trans-sexual neighbour with the amazing new breasts. She parks his/her bike against the picket fence of our garden, so we often exchange shy glances across the tropical plants. She is a helper for a family and can be heard scolding the small child in her care with a deep threatening voice.
Inevitably, the unique symphony of noise is embellished by the wild howling of someone’s dog. Even if you are a committed dog lover, you will hate most of the dogs on Lamma Island. They are all descended from the same feral pack of wolf-like mongrels with pointy snarling faces and curled up tails. They come in about three different shades of shitty brown and prowl the streets in packs, cocking their enormous legs on small children and crapping where the hell they like. Quite sensibly, owners of these vicious beasts do not even attempt to train or discipline them for fear of being eaten alive.
Often they are left all day on the balcony of their owner’s flat pacing backwards and forwards in the heat going more and more insane and barking madly at any sight or sign of human or dog life.
There was enormous controversy recently when it was discovered that some heinous member of the Lamma community was distributing toxic poison for the dogs. Cruel and evil yes, but if you were living in a flat next to three of these beasts barking and howling all day and night, weeing on your children and defecating in your bed, you might feel sorely tempted into extreme measures too.
There are no cars and no high rise buildings on Lamma Island. If you ignore the three towering chimneys of the coal fired power station (and the copious amounts of dog poo) it is a pretty green and tranquil place compared to most of Hong Kong.
Its 3000 residents are an eclectic mix of Chinese fisherman, Filipino maids , ex-patriot teachers and writers, bankers, vegetarian women of a certain age and just some general intoxicated low-life that were washed up on the beach when the tide went out about 25 years ago.
Lamma life revolves around the ferry that transports residents from the ferry pier at Lung Shue Wan to the high rise concrete and glass chaos of Central district. It is usually a 20 minute journey that costs about £1-40 and remains my favourite boat trip in the world. Crossing one of the busiest shipping lanes in the world, past anchored container ships awaiting cargo and then depositing you in the heart of one of the most vibrant and cosmopolitan cities in Asia.
It’s like getting on a boat in a remote Breton Island and 20 minutes later having crossed the English Channel, arriving in the middle of Piccadilly Circus or Canary Wharf.
Hope all is well with you guys. I am very sorry that I will not be joining you for the top of the table clash on Monday night. It will be a tough and tense game and I will try and stay up for it but 4am is not my preferred time for listening to football.
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