Thursday, September 29, 2011
Our first Typhoon 8 in Hong Kong came noisily knocking on our windows in the early hours of this morning. Up on the 36th floor, we heard and felt every aggressive and relentless turn. Winds were howling, rain was pounding, doors were slamming, windows were shaking. It was as though some form of possessed being had a century-old bone to pick with the city, and it wasn't going to pass without making sure we all knew it, we all felt it.
A Typhoon 8 is the city's cue to stop. No one drives on the roads, no one walks the streets, no one goes to work. It is a welcome excuse to bunker down at home, cook up a feast, watch some DVDs and enjoy a guilt free day away from the everyday slog. That is, unless, you too are possessed by some intangible force and cannot tear yourself away from the trading floor. Ahem.