Donkey Fire

god damn idiot.

A few months ago, I purchased a shirt from Zara in Hong Kong airport on my way back to Sydney. After trying on the medium and the small, I went for the small: and so began a saga of me being a total fucking idiot.

I arrived in Sydney, and on Saturday night out decided to wear the new shirt. However, upon putting it on, it felt a little snug: however, if I stood still, I liked how it looked, so I wore it out (because I was OBVIOUSLY going to stand dead still all night).

About 8 minutes after leaving the house (juuuuust two far away to head home and change) it dawned on me that a) I was completely uncomfortable and b) I looked less cool than I thought. I then proceeded to twitch, jerk and basically inform everyone within sight that i was uncomfortable, and wanted to change. Luckily my sister brought me a T-Shirt, and all was well - I vowed to never wear the shirt again. However, being my mother’s son, I couldn’t bring myself to throw it out.

Skip forward 6 weeks.

After a delightful bought of gastro, I was getting dressed for work this morning and saw the shirt. Feeling slim (GOODBYE WATER WEIGHT), I put it on: and once again was sucked into it’s slimming charms.

Once again, I was wrong. After yet another uncomfortable day in the shirt, I gave in and went to Zara to buy a tee, and am now waiting for my co-workers to return to the office from lunch, and mock me.

I am a god damn idiot.

Saturday Night.

Please note: sister of DonkeyFire has mocked the second person voice of this blog, albeit in passing. As both proof of adaptability and as a challenge while intoxicated, DonkeyFire will briefly appear in a new tense.

DonkeyFire left the house; too early as it turned out. Lesson learnt: consult both husband and wife before committing to a meeting time and place.

Second time’s a charm: we meet on schedule, and DonkeyFire makes an entrance. Gin and tonics, pony beers and small talk; this evening is so far on track. We giggle, we reminisce, and we predict the future (marriage is in the air, on multiple fronts) and we move on to dinner.

Dinner happens. Hiccups and laughter dominate. By any measurement metric, good times. We move on.

Mesh: Espresso Martinis (probably fueling this blog). Then we head to a rooftop.

A strong feeling takes over: DonkeyFire no longer wants to exist alone. Sure, there is fun to be had, but more exists: there can be more to every encounter. Every moment is lonely, even when filled with loved ones and friends. A short conversation, a moment in passing: the message is clear, and the want is strong. What will be will be. And she will be, because she is all that matters.

DonkeyFire leaves the bar, despite the protests and the party still going. DonkeyFire wants to be closer, even if that means being alone at home while she does the same. She is asleep. And so shall DonkeyFire be (damn third person).

DonkeyFire gets home. DonkeyFire thinks, how to fix this?

Time to go back to the 2nd person.

Tighten up the plan.

Despite being chirpy and happy, there is considerable uncertainty in life at the moment (proving that uncertainty isn’t always bad). It’s mostly good uncertainty (the kind that makes you feel spoilt for choice), but that being said, I’m still getting sick of it. I’m a much more satisfied bloke when there is a plan.

And worst of all, I feel I don’t have the time to completely dedicate myself to making firm decisions: possibly the most crippling component of the whole situation.

Do I stay or do I go? Where is the next adventure? How do I ensure it will be a success?

So many damn questions. Hopefully, though, a plan will form in the next week. And when I know, you’ll know.

Requiem for an Airport.

You just want the flight to leave on time. Oh god, let the flight leave on time.

They’re simple wishes, but they take on many dimensions when you fly all the time. You asked for this: travel is a big part of the job. You land in Ningbo. You fly out of Pudong. You land in Singapore. You wake up in Hong Kong. You return to Beijing International. The Air China counter host greets you with ’Back again?’ You smile. You think about Edward Norton in Fight Club.

Fundamentally, you can’t complain: it’s pretty awesome. You know where to get an English magazine, a cold beer and an upgrade in 25+ airports in Asia, and you rack up points that make Star Alliance staff pretend they give a shit (still not gold, but by Christmas). You know the ins and outs of 1st, 2nd and 3rd tier city hubs. You’ve got a lot of stamps in your passport (soon to run out of pages).

 But then again, you get the down times.

The brutal frustration when you miss a flight after 10 on time, but this is the one that gets you home. You land 9 hours late. You have missed connecting flights, and slept on benches because the lounges and hotel are full. Tough shit, be a man. Still sucks.

You miss your flight back to Beijing, and you end up getting 2 hours sleep and pitching as a zombie. Not cool. You lose: not your fault, but still. The blood still boils.

Worse is tonight: you say goodbye to her, you get ripped in half, and then you need to pull it together for 4 more hours until you, too, leave. Thank god Changi knows what they are doing. Another Tiger thanks, and yes, I’d love you to mind my bag before I lose it. Still hurts, but thank god soon the airport will just be for work. You don’t want anymore airport goodbyes. She’s worth too much for this.

The Hard Rock Cafe in Changi is playing ‘Journey - Live in Houston’. The irony of ‘Journey’ playing in a transit bar is far from the minds of the staff. But you know what? Anyway you want it, that’s the way you need it. Truer words have rarely been spoken.

From where you’d rather be.

REPORTING LIVE FROM THE PARK HYATT NINGBO, it’s a Tier Two Tour 2012 update!

Here we are, sportsfans, at the brand new, just opened, luxury resort and spa in the gorgeous city of Ningbo near Shanghai*. I sit in my room, overlooking my balcony which overlooks the gardens that border the lake (so much overlooking to be done). Speaking of Overlooking, we are the only people staying here: 4 people in 4 rooms, out of 226 rooms. Very ‘The Shining’.

We toured the hotel this morning, and I’ve sampled their cuisine and hospitality and I can declare this to be the 5-stariest hotel I’ve stayed at in China. It even has a 500 year old tea house they’ve converted into a bar: an obvious ploy to attract more Australians. IT’S WORKING.

Here are some jealousy inspiring images.

I do like me a mid-room bath.

Does YOUR bathroom have a double, sit down shower? Does YOUR bathroom double as a steam room?

Infinity pool overlooking lake: OVERLOOKING CONTINUES.

If your pool doesn’t have free hanging mega beds and a gong at each end, get fucked.

All hotels should have superfluous, ridiculously high, empty bird cages. Because STYLE.

No funny comments, just a nice garden.

*note, I have no idea what the city actually looks like as we are staying far from the city on a stunning lake. We drove through it last night, but I was asleep in the car.