(Song by John Lennon and Paul McCartney. It’s on their “Help!” album. My favorite versions are by Kenny Rankin, which is slow and somber, and Holly Cole, which has a touch of the country sound to it.)
I’m traveling through that ancient country again. Much to tell. But first I have to tell you about my transit through Hong Kong. Direct flights between Washington and Beijing were stopped during the pandemic and have not started up again. So, I routed myself through Hong Kong.
Going there wasn’t a problem, except for the timing. From my house to the hotel in Shanghai took 38 hours. On my way back I flew from Beijing to Hong Kong. In Beijing there were two different immigration and security checks. Upon arriving in Hong Kong, there were two more security checks. After the second, I assumed I was free to leave the airport. As I was headed toward the exit, I saw 4 police officers standing near the exit looking over the people. Their eyes landed on me and when I approached, a female officer headed straight toward me, held up her hand, and asked to see my passport and boarding pass.
I had just finished a hard 2.5 weeks traveling through China and was exhausted – and in mood to be picked on. So, as I was searching through my cargo pants for my passport, I said, in an annoying tone, “I guess you stopped me because I’m not Chinese, right?” She should have admitted it, but no, she said this is just a random check. I unbent my aching body, looked her straight in the eye, and with a more annoying tone, said, “I don’t think so.” Fortunately, instead of taking me in for interrogation, she returned my passport and told me I’m free to go. Sorry I have no photos of the incident.
Ah, yes, Hong Kong
保罗
DC's Asian Adventures 