Photo Diary

I shouldn't be here. It is 10.30pm on Sunday night and I am already short of sleep before the new week has even started.

The Pioneering Accountant has just left for a week in London where, I am hoping, he will find us somewhere to live. Without him and his unfailing ability to rise early each morning to get the children up and out, the coming week is going to be hard work.

And yet unrecorded days in these last hectic weels are like pearls slipping from a string. Once lost they are gone for ever.

So in brief, my week as a photo diary:

Tuesday. We attended the Beijing Evening at the ten year old's school. The children put on a wonderfully entertaining performance which included ribbon dancing, kung fu, sketches, singing and drumming. The trip had clearly been an amazing experience for all. I was close to tears as I watched my eldest boy reenacting in Mandarin a scene of bartering with traders at the Great Wall. He's been at this school for just over a month and yet seemed totally at home. We on the other hand snuck in and sat at the back for fear someone might actually notice us. Our stay is so fleeting that I am almost embarrassed to be seen at all and shy away from meeting other parents in case the lunacy of our brief stop-over is revealed.

Thursday. A public holiday - the Dragon Boat Festival at Stanley. We stood for hours on a jetty waiting to be transported to a junk from which to watch the races. It was cold and windy and when we finally got to the front of the queue we began to have second thoughts as the pier heaved dramatically on the choppy water. Clambering from ferry to junk was perilous. The ferry men assumed those with long legs could bridge yawning chasms of black water between the bobbing boats while small children and bags were tossed into the waiting arms of ships' hands on the moored junks. We saw some races, nibbled cold pizza and made a quick get away on a passing speed boat, arriving at the beach just minutes before the heavens opened. It was one of those events you have to do once. Once will do, however.

Friday. There was no school for the eight year old so he and I enjoyed the rare treat of a morning together and went and nosed around the Police Museum. It wasn't thrilling for him - lots of old photos and masses to read - but I loved it and lost myself in Hong Kong's history and the long running battles between police and the Triads.

Saturday. Our eldest was again at the University in Sha Tin so we drove off to discover Clear Water Bay. We found an enchanting beach, small, clean and relatively empty and sat on the sand while the three others stripped off and swam in the waves. It was hot and sunny and both of us were thinking, Damn, it would have been nice to have a bit more of this.

Sunday. Sailing for the two older boys on Middle Island. After lunch we packed suitcases for the PA to take to London full of stuff for our UK summer - sweaters, raincoats, wetsuits all of which we'll need before our sea freight docks. I remember doing this in reverse last summer, packing suitcases of stuff we'd need in Hong Kong before our container arrived. We ended the day with friends at Shek'O and ate supper at a round table for 11 with all the children chirruping with excitement.

As we arrived home I reached for my handbag to get the keys. No bag. Flashback of putting it on a wall behind the car while I loaded the boogie boards into the boot. Shek'O is a good half hour's drive from us along narrow winding roads. It is about as far away as anywhere on Hong Kong Island. And at 8pm on a Sunday night I had no desire to return. Except for the fact that my bag, passport, wallett and camera were all sitting there on a wall. At least I hoped they still were.

I drove fast with anxious thoughts of what I would do if the bag were not there. Where to start looking? The PA had to leave at 9.15pm so I didn't have much time.

It took me 22 minutes to get there. I was having fantasies about a F1 Hong Kong Grand Prix as I drove. And as I drew up to the space we had parked in but an hour earlier I saw my dear old bag waiting for me on the wall. Hallelujah!