From Tai Long Wan : Epilogue

Sadly all we had to comfort ourselves with on our return, were an unopened bottle of Carlo Rossi, the makings of at least two Dry Martinis and blow me down not another Sri Lankan (birriyani) curry to ease our by now very weary bones. "Ah well I wonder what tomorrow will bring asked Tigger?" Pooh's reply and observations on a possible repeat are not permissible on a public blog like this.

From Tai Long Wan: Nae Ferry!

"Sorry Babe but the ferry appears to have left on time at 4.45pm ( now 5.15) You know how unreliable these Chinese are, keeping to timetables and such" chortled our amused leader.

"I know, lets try your iPhone and one of its new apps to call up a water taxi". Aye right! thinks the unamused 'she who must be obeyed'. "I'm not walking another inch tonight..." as the dying embers of the eastern sun going down in the west(that's enough peotic mince! ed.)brought a rapidly advancing darkness.

Hey Presto! (or Apple if you will), within about 7 minutes the comforting roar of twin 150bhp Evinrudes brought joy and comfort all round and less than 10 Minutes later hair blowing in the slipstream, the whole expidition was arriving at Wong Shek pier to pick up the number 94 bus back to Oi Gin (Outward Bound) as if we had never been away.

From Tai Wan Long: Are We There Yet?

"Are you there yet?" squawks an interested observer. "halfway again" confirms our Che capped leader.

Sadly his optimism was misplaced as when we arrived at Chek Keng, Gess Whit? Nae ferry!

Look closely at the bottom picture here and you'll see a pier with no ferry...worse than a bar with no toilet(depends upon your point of view and whether you are male or female)
The last had sailed 30 minutes before we got there. Worse than a windy night at McInroy's Point with no "going round by road" option as there wis none. Road, that is.

From Tai Long Wan: The Trek Back

A well, what's another 3.5 Kilometers rising to over 160meters between friends.

Here we are leaving the outskirts of Ham Tin Wai en rout for Check Keng with a delightful view of Tai Mun Shan ( actually its Sharps Peak standing in, as as the cameraman forgot to take the required photie)

At Tai Long Wan: Here Be Sand Part 2

Her are some of the younger members of our expidition losing all control and disporting themselves with abandon. Those of us not shown here bemoaned the lack of forethought that had left the neccessary (for us at least) cossies behind! A paddle would have to do.

We forced ourselves to remain at this outpost since there were essential supplies to inventory and run quality checks on, until about 1530hrs. All the while being assured by our youthful leader that that would allow us time to catch the last ferry out of Check Keng.

"When exactly is that?" asked some of the party. Hrrmph, Hrrumphty tum was the reply. Anyway we had confidence in our indian scout.

At Tai Long Wan: Here Be Sand

And this was why afterall we had braved the perils of the McLehose trail, well 3 kilometers of it anyway, the beach.

Easily comparable with the West of Scotland but with certain endearing elements missing. Wind, Rain, comfortable temperatures of 5deg C, so it wasn't quite perfect, but it'd do in a pinch.

At Tai Long Wan: The Beach

Now we are here with the kindly mine host opening the Tsingtao as we stubled with cracked lips into, and nearly out of, his humble er, car port.

Nevertheless the hospitality was cold (the beer) and hot (the chillies) and we had a marvelous mix of anglo chinese grub, with dumplings of unknown content, sweet and sour fish, noodles, spring rolls (up to this point the best I have ever tasted) and quite definitely the best chips in the world. Hot, dry, salted and floury, themselves requiring further applications of the wonder potion that cures all discomfort out here whether its mosquitos, canisiums, bad knees etc. Of course there were noodles , this is a noolde (sic) bar!

To Tai Long Wan: Ham Tin Wai

Yup, this is us.

About .5km from the beer.

Nice place, Ham Tin Wai; note the supply of larger than ususal wheelie bin but surprisingly no dates forcollection.

Note the Chillies and Dogs. Both have a remarkable capacity for lying around in the sun, more later.

To Tai Long Wan: Tai Long

This is the village of Tai Long which seemed desrted apart from a few dugs but apparently had been host to nearly 500 surfers the weeks before.

It looks a bit like the Alamo after the Mexicans left, although there was a house for rent with all mod cons including air conditioner and electricity for 18,000HKD ( £1,500 app).

Commuting might be problematical.

To Tai Long Wan: Couldn't be Easier

This looks like a walk in the park doesn't it?

The mountain below is Sharps Peak mentioned earlier and and assured by our youthful leader just a 5 hour walk in the park except for softies like Cathay Pacfic pilots wwho moaned a bit . I can understand this.

Yes we were nearly there at this point about 1km from the base camp at Ham Tin

To Tai Long Wan: View From The Top

This is the view when the mist clears from the eyes at about 160 meters.

Just a fraction of the Tai Long Wan Coastline(see guide books)

At the encouragement of the management we had taken water supplies with us which proved to be useful but by now sorely depleted.

"Just think of the beer at the Noodle Bar" well that got us through.

To Tai Long Wan: Are We There Yet?

Help ma Boab!!

This is your 'umble, ever so, at the top of the pass, supported by and supporting, she who must be obeyed.

To Tai Long Wan: The McLehose Trail

The ferry dropped us off ay Check Keng pier and we set off along the McLehose trail (very nice man the best Governor of the Colony,ever.), or part of it since it runs right through the whole of the SAR. At this point it is all concreted, a Skoosh thinks we, the jolly walkers.

What our intrepid leader neglected to impress upon us was the reality of a 4 kilometer trek rising to over 160 meters.

When the Chinese put a path up a mountain that's exactly what they do...straight up and through between two mountains Nam She Tsim (Sharps Peak) at 468m hardly half a munro and Tain Mun Shan at 370m barely a boil on the landscape.

We were put right in our place when we were being overtaken by a variety of nationals, ages and sex as our sherpa RG waited paitiently on our hirpling, groaning bodies to make the ascent.