Finally finally. We packed up, paid our bills and walked to the nearest tube station. Hong Kong had been more than ok, considering the circumstances - I mean there are far more places I'd rather not be stuck with a chickenpoxy daughter. It took a bit longer than we hoped at the airport. But if they had complained about not coming back to the airport doctor to get a "fit to fly" certificate I'd have done my nut. Anyway, after some altercations with the paperwork we were checked in, and they waved a blind eye at my overweight luggage when I explained we'd had to stay a week longer than planned.
For the first time since 2003 I was actually happy to be on the plane back to the UK. It was fairly uneventful, and luckily we got a seat at the bulkhead with a mother and her kid. So Xixi didn't sleep for ages and I was so looking forward to a relaxing glass of red. This did eventually happen but I was so exhausted it didn't really count.
And that was it for another year. A great time again at our home-from-home. A house sale agreed. My brother having his first Pingguo experience. My American colleague also getting the Pingguo taste. There was rarely a dull moment, and that's why I love being there - chickenpox cannot affect that.
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