Monday, 19th November 2007 – Macau, Hong Kong, Day 9
Bloody BMW… Their post race party was very, very good indeed, which was why when I woke up I felt as if someone had sandpapered my eyeballs, my throat was sore and clogged and my nose was horribly blocked up. I could have used several more hours sleep and several less glasses of Moet on Sunday night… We had a good time though!
As a result, Monday was a very slow moving day. Because I hadn’t had much time to drink at the prize giving dinner, and because (with the exception of a solitary glass of white wine) I’d stayed strictly on the Champagne during the six or so hours we were at the BMW party, I didn’t have a hangover although I did have all the other side effects. I was desperately tired though. Four and a half hours sleep is just not enough these days… It was as well I was awake though, because I’d managed to leave my mobile phone in Glyn’s room, and as he was leaving with the main F3 party at 11.00 that morning, he was coming over to drop the phone off first. I just wrapped myself in my silk dressing gown and sat there sorting photos and drinking coffee while I waited for him. When he turned up he reported that some people had arrived at breakfast at the Rio straight from the party, and that he’d found a semi-responsible member of Carlin Motorsport and reported to them that we’d returned Brendon Hartley to the hotel the night before, but that we couldn’t be held responsible for anything that had happened to him beyond that!
Anyway, eventually Lynne surfaced and we spent the remainder of the morning packing, and generally trying to get our act together so we could get the ferry to Kowloon mid-afternoon. Eventually sorted, we checked out just before noon, and booked ourselves in for next year. The Pousada is an absolute delight, and so cheap as to be ridiculous. It’s probably the best value for money in Macau, so long as you don’t mind a bit of a walk to either the ferry terminal to pick up shuttle buses, or down to town to snag a cab.
Check out accomplished, we dumped our bags at the ferry terminal and headed for Fisherman’s Wharf in search of lunch.
We’d not bothered with breakfast – it would have eaten into sleep time for Lynne and photo sorting time for me. We eventually settled on the Restaurant Camoes which Lynne had noticed while we were at the Pedicab race. It’s on an upper floor with a balcony all round, and great views of people passing by and of the water (if you get the right table, which we did).
Casquinha (stuffed crab) for starters, followed by Duck Rice and Bacalhau com Natas, neither of which we managed to finish, with a bottle of vinho verde to accompany it and we were set to deal with the ferry crossing. Which was pretty chaotic, as was immigration at the other end. It meant we arrived a lot later than expected, but the car that the Intercontinental Grand Stanford sent for us was still waiting, so we rode in air-conditioned comfort all the way to the hotel, which was splendidly decked out for Christmas.
Once at the hotel the porters and the concierge immediately took charge of us, shipping us up to our room on the 12th floor. We’d had plans to do things in the evening, but apart from hunting down a supermarket for some essential supplies, we’d run out of energy. Instead, we used our welcome drink vouchers in the Lobby Bar on a caipirinha apiece, and then went to eat in the hotel’s Cantonese restaurant, Hoi King Heen. Faced with a long rambling menu, and with our decision making capacities shot to hell, we gave in and ordered the set menu because it contained a number of things we hadn’t tried before. It was all good, some of it exceptionally so (the prawns at the end especially so), but I still can’t see why the Chinese get so excited about abalone. I mean, it was tasty, but not “shell out your monthly salary to eat a meal of it” tasty frankly. It seemed to me to be similar to a mussel, but with a denser texture, and really it was the sauce that made it. Oh, and it was served with what was translated as “goose web” but was actually a goose foot. Now there’s slightly more meat on a goose’s foot than on a chicken’s foot, but not much. And again, I’m not sure what the excitement is really all about.
Oh, and in that very Chinese way, the dishes arrived one at a time, but with almost no break between finishing one and another appearing. Normally, I would hate that, but today it stopped either of us falling face down asleep in our food! And so, around 10pm, we found ourselves tucked up in bed and drifting off to sleep.