I hate it – that crunchy noise I make when I don’t change gears smoothly in my 18 year old car, whose clutch and gear box have probably seen better days.
It feels a bit like that whenever I get to the last few days in Hong Kong. That time between the end here and the start of being there, exacerbated by trying to figure out the self quarantine process that doesn’t come with very clear instructions.
Today was the first of several goodbyes, a gathering of belongings. I am trying to be fully present and enjoy these precious days, but my mind is always running ahead of me. How does the Airport Express thing work again? Do I really need to bring a bunch of year of the rat stuff, so lovingly given, half way across the world? How will customs react to this home made massage thing Mr Leung has made for me, as I have no hold luggage?And a bunch of other getting into homeward bound thinking. All 3 weeks sooner than I thought.
Who gets the bike? Who might like a yoga mat? Who might want the precious alcohol rub and facemasks, or should I be bringing them home? crunch, crunch, crunch.
Time to upgrade to an automatic car and find the nearest thing to a HK charity shop that might like a strange assortment.of donations.