Guest Blogger, Chris Durbin writes from his bed in the Queen Mary Hospital, Pokfulam, Hong Kong.

Wow what a view, overlooking:
The South China Sea and an array of islands
One of the busiest shipping lanes in the world
A classic Chinese graveyard wending its way down a steep sided valley
Is this the 20th floor of a luxury hotel? No it is the 20th floor of the Queen Mary Hospital.
Now for a geographer there is nothing quite like a view from a great height. Just to let colleagues know [and those who don’t know Hong Kong] that I am looking down on West Island School [my children’s school] and the Education Development Centre. The view would allow me to do a playground duty with binoculars!

And so to the ships that pass by every thirty or so seconds. It is like Thomas the Tank Engine on the ocean. I am looking down on a variety of shapes and sizes, all conjuring images of people in my mind. Personification of transportation has made millions. It is a shame really the Rev William Whateverhisnameis thought of this concept first. I passed by a maxicab/minibus this morning advertising Ming the Minibus so there may be hope for this idea yet. Sea going vessels ought to have faces to portray their characters. As ships are all traditionally female, they ought to have appropriate names. There is the big cumbersome one, seemingly top heavy with containers, making way for no-one, Frances the Freighter, oversized, haughty and yet unkempt. Frances is rather like Clarissa Dickson Wright of Two Fat Ladies fame. At the opposite end of the size-scale is the small stubby one, seemingly cut off at the rear. This is the cheeky one, a fidget of vessel, agile at turning, and these spherical boats come in pairs, meet Terri and Tabby the Tugboats.
There is a myriad of merchant vessels, shifting cargo from A to B and back again. Then there could be Teresa the Tanker, Ingrid the Bulk Carrier [proudly displaying large white lettering Hapag-Lloyd is on her black side] and Clarice the Container Ship all heading for Denise the Derrick and her many friends. This is where cargo is loaded and unloaded on to small vessels like Bryony and Bobby the Barges. Bryony has the skipper’s bridge at the front and Bobby has hers at the rear. One seems to be pushing the four containers and the other, pulling.

The seas are a hive of activity, the ships are competing for space, the small ones buzz around large ships like flies around a cow’s face. The small, elegant, thin vessel must be Priscilla the Pilot, quick and agile, the bow wave looking like a tutu, the wake like long thin ballerina’s legs with white tights. Jodi the junk, Suki the Sanpan continue on their journeys despite the wakes from ships like Ingrid. Harriet the Hydrofoil is racing Jenny the Jetfoil to Macau and back. Ffion and Fiona the Ferries take a divergent course, one heading for Lamma, the other for Lantau.
Then there are the military vessels, Dervla the Destroyer and Amy the Aircraft Carrier, sleek and grey, still and inactive whilst in safe haven, yet brooding and waiting for action.
Not to mention the fleet of fishing boats, Tania the Trawler……Enough I hear you cry….
I cannot blame the drugs for this mad vision for I haven’t been on drugs since the 27th December. I am as fit and healthy as I have been for 9 months; I have just completed two weeks’ work uninterrupted by dizzy spells. This however is the start of things for me. I am about to be harvested, combined or plucked. This is the day of arrangement for stem cell capture and nothing much happens so I have time to think, time to go mad. Every now and then another little piece of the 10 day protocol comes into my ken. A doctor pops up and says I need to arrange a catheter in your neck, a third nurse asks me if I have allergies to drugs another one explains how to look after my catheter. Looking down on the world from this hospital window, it all seems magic, and I want to stay around for a while yet. I am thinking of you all out there in schools, shaping young people’s lives, bringing new experiences to young people and developing the people who will inherit this wonderful planet. When you feel miserable or fed up, just stop and rub your palm and think of something that is joyous [on the other hand it might be better to rant and kick a cardboard box!]

Tomorrow is day two of the 10 day protocol. It involves hydration, chemotherapy and growth hormone - irrigation, pesticide and fertiliser more like. In ten days I will have a crop of stem cells and out will come the Wurzels to sing “I’ve got a brand new combine harvester, and I’ll give you the key!” The crop will be my own stem cells, and, like a bag of frozen peas, will be stored in a freezer for a later date. Sadly I am feeling very well with remission and an immeasurable disease, yet I know I will be getting worse.
Many thanks for bearing with me and allowing me to indulge myself. Back to the reports I need to finish….from the hospital bed.
Thank you Chris. The photographs are of Pokfulam including one from a memorably stormy day.
Chris is the first contributor to my new more inclusive blog where I hope a variety of voices and views can be read. If you would like to contribute than please email me at tom_wood@tiscali.co.uk
Recent Comments