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ariadnew · 8 months

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CTJL SYDNEY, FINALE: PART 2

At a bar table for three by an extravagantly large window thirty-two floors above Sydney’s Darling Harbour, a pair of figures settle upon the seating, uncork a bottle of champagne, and pour it.

They immediately get to arguing.

The first voice is warm, masculine, as clipped as the greens at Lords in London. Low and slightly husky, it bears barely perceptible notes of mirth, as though the speaker feigns a sang-froid greater than he feels.

The second voice is abrupt, feminine, unyielding as a locked door. Sharply American— east coast, but suggestions of time spent abroad— something about the timbre suggests, on a good day, it is as capable of sweetness as it is smoke.

The present tone would suggest today is not one of those days.

The first figure lifts his glass from the table with easy grace and holds it aloft.

‘To you.’ ‘No.’ ‘To your victory.’ ‘Third place isn’t a victory.’ ‘You won your class.’ ‘So did you.’ ‘Top of the leaderboard in a global tour,’ continues the first voice. ‘Top of a leaderboard, not the leaderboard.’ ‘One could rightly celebrate—.’ ‘You placed higher than me.’

For a moment, the first voice is silent. The figure it belongs to remains motionless, long legs tucked beneath his chair, jacket sleeves rolled to the elbows, glass frozen in partial toast. The second is likewise still, but her glass remains on the table. Her posture is tall and proper. Her hands are folded neatly upon her lap.

Eyes are held. The silence stretches. ‘Alright,’ concedes the first voice. ‘We won’t toast to your accomplishments.’ A nod. ‘We’ll toast to what a hundred other riders didn’t achieve, which was top of their class and a podium finish overall.’ Unfazed by the humour twinkling in his voice and his eyes, the woman leans forward and picks up her glass. ‘Why don’t you just call it what it is?’ ‘And what is that?’ ‘Us being good, but not good enough.’ ‘Mm.’ The first figure inclines his glass toward his companion’s and says, in the gentle echo of glass meeting glass: ‘How unlike you to be dark.’

They take the first sip in companionable silence, the thin band of orange at the horizon fading faster, faster; early southern starlight beginning to prickle the lush black-blue of night above. *

When Dorothy Lawley arrives at their table, Archibald Rothersay-Vandover— champion show jumper, lifelong idol, object of her involuntary and wicked affections— is telling a story about the first time he came to Australia, and Agatha Foskett— generous employer, sort-of mentor, mistress of nightmares— is smiling. That is, smiling as much as can be considered smiling where Agatha is concerned, which is usually capped at a kink in the corner of her mouth and a certain lustre to her eyes. Archie pulls out her chair and Agatha offers her a glass of champagne, which Dot declines right as Archie picks up the bottle and begins pouring it.

It sits, bubbling, golden, probably expensive, taunting her as Archie catches her up with his story.

The Mugler syndicate, in their infinite wisdom and eccentricity, had sent him Hong Kong for a competition. This, he reminds them, was before it was fashionable, profitable, and practical for riders based in Europe to compete in Asia. The latter is of particular importance to the story, he points out, though his explanation as to why is derailed after he begins detailing the highs and lows of modern Cantonese political history, and Agatha cuts him off partway through to tell him– bluntly– to get back to the point. As Dot listens, she finds herself becoming enthralled by a world vastly different to those she has previously seen and conjured. She imagines the heritage property he describes, three hours from Sydney. The old homestead, the stockyards, the corrugated iron sheds. Cattle drinking from old bathtubs; the steel groan of a weathered windmill; a stock saddle with a string girth thrown over a worn wooden fence. It smells of dry and horses and sweat; feels like dust and scorching December sun. Archie continues, and Dot’s mind follows, walking to a clearing on a mountain ridge. One of the farmhands— clad in paddock boots, bootcut jeans and an Akubra— turns chops and steaks on a rusted plough disc set over a campfire, a beer in his free hand. Another brushes ash and embers from the lid of a cast iron camp oven and peers within before replacing it and nodding, satisfied. The evening air is fresh and clear, scored with the smells of sizzling meat and baking damper, smoking wood and iron, and the dry, grey-green scent of gum trees enduring the summer heat. Can she see, there, the wraithy-white branches of the ghost gums? Yes, there, those ones, hauntingly beautiful with their thin limbs and smooth pallor. She listens to the relaxed, twanging chatter about her; the snap of the fire; the song of insects; the sudden and frantic screeching of unknown birds in the hot, still, otherwise peaceful dusk. A horse stamps its foot. A fly whizzes past her ear. The valley unfolds before her: sunburned grassland and bush-covered cliffs, vast unlike vast ever was before it; the sky burning lurid orange and apocalyptic red as the sun lowers itself to the horizon and beyond.

At a bar table for three in an air-conditioned lounge overlooking Sydney’s Darling Harbour, Archie Vandover continues telling a story. Dorothy Lawley hears him distantly, in his BBC radio voice, mentioning a string of things that don’t make sense. Polocrosse. The distance to Zurich. Something about wine; someone named Peter. He’s left the unfathomable beauty of the bush behind. But Dot hasn’t. She remains by the fire, staring at the view.

The dizzying, terrifying, entirely bewitching view. *

The darker the night grows, the more the harbour glitters.

The lounge has somehow managed to ever increase in the number of people present, and, courtesy of the efforts of the person in charge of music, a high-spirited and convivial mood grips the room. Madonna pumps through the sound system at present: Beautiful Stranger. Dot quietly bobs her head side to side with the beat. She’s barely touched the champagne, but she has touched it. Timid sips, here and there, taken with all the poise of someone who has clearly never had a champagne flute in their hand before— it’s a wonder it hasn’t yet trembled all the way out of her hand and ended in a flood on their table. She seems brighter than usual— more confident than usual, more forthcoming with questions and wordier in her responses. Whether it is due to the victory, the vibe or the alcohol, Agatha cannot say, but she can’t imagine Dot has had much practise holding her liquor. Archie is livelier than usual, too, indulging Dot’s questions and sharing stories of his own accord. It was always difficult to explain his particular balance of introversion and extroversion to people who did not know him. He is sociable, but he has his limits; reserved, but by no means dispassionate or uncommunicative; honest, but not necessarily open. His genuine interest in people coupled with a quick wit and miscellany of interests tended to make him a capable and popular conversationalist; what it did not make him was forthcoming with his own experiences. On the contrary, he seemed perfectly content to listen, ask questions, and otherwise take the conversational backseat unless invited (at times, coaxed) to do otherwise, often to the effect that new acquaintances walked away from conversation charmed by a man they had learned next to nothing about.

Him openly sitting at the table offering pieces of his life for their pleasure, therefore, is a rare– and honestly, rather interesting— occurrence.

He’s in midst of telling Dot another story about his time riding for the Mugler syndicate (a story Agatha has already heard) when they are approached by a smattering of excited young people. Their presence evokes visible surprise in all three of them, but only Dot bears traces of recognition. They’re a collection of predominantly grooms, apparently, whom Dot has managed to charm sufficiently enough over the course of the year to earn herself an invitation to join them on the dance floor. Her face is, at separate points and sometimes simultaneously, a picture of surprise, confusion, doubt, elation and hesitation, but she ultimately allows herself to be spirited away.

Archie, very deliberately, turns to Agatha.

‘Will you dance with me?’ ‘No.’ ‘Not even in celebration?’ ‘We’re celebrating right now.’ She lifts her near-empty glass. ‘The end of the season.’ ‘Special occasions call for special celebrations.’ ‘This is a special celebration.’ ‘Champagne? Hardly. You can drink it any time.’ ‘What, you classify dancing as “special celebration”?’ ‘With my team mate and third-place getter, yes. Quite. There’s something rather poetic about second and third place dancing together, don’t you think?’ A beat passes while Agatha appears to consider this, holding his eye all the while. Eventually, she leans closer. It is a calculated movement. Slow, serious. Decisive. To any observer it might seem she is about to reveal a thought of pivotal importance. This includes Archie, who, apparently surprised, leans slightly forward in anticipation.

Her voice, when she speaks, is low and rich and velvet.

‘Third place doesn’t want to dance with you,’ she says. ‘I think you’re being a bit of a sore loser.’ ‘And I think you’re dangerously close to being an asshole winner.’ His mouth curls into a hearty smile, his eyes crinkling to match. Agatha leans back. Archie does the same. ‘We’ll bet on it next year,’ he says. ‘I’ll beat you next year.’ ‘Then you’ll have nothing to worry about, will you?’ He rests an arm down the back of his chair. ‘What do you intend to wager?’ ‘Your employment status.’ ‘If you want me to sign on another few years, Agatha, you need only ask.’ Her response is the unimpressed arch of a brow. ‘Was that not what you had in mind?’

Ignoring his feigned innocence, Agatha takes her glass in hand and turns to face the view. The waters of Darling Harbour shimmer in the midst of the dark: silvers, blues, greens, golds; rippled and restless in the wake of evening ferries and returning yachts. They had not discussed what would happen when Archie’s contract ran out. Joked and jokingly made threats, respectively, but never spoke about it seriously. Hadn’t so much as indicated it existed. Not a word, not a breath. Was it even real, that contract? The day Archie had all but sank to his knees asking her to let him keep his job, if not on his merits, then for the sake of his little girl? It’s not just me, Agatha. I have a daughter to think about. She can still hear the words in his voice. She remembers almost everything about that day when she looks for it. Her shock; his manners; Eva’s awkward backtracking. Speaking in private. Not being able to look him in the eye. Listening to him petition her, earnest and unashamed; Eva waiting in the courtyard, watching surreptitiously through the window. Not wanting to cave in; the self-loathing when she did. His vow that she wouldn’t be disappointed. Her retort that it was too late for that.

It was strange to think of it, now. Hard to fathom.

‘I’ll find you someone to dance with.’ ‘Hmm?’ ‘She looks like she’d be up for it.’ She nods at a lithe-looking woman by the bar in turquoise gossamer skirts. Taller than average and Bondi blonde, her legs are tanned two shades beyond plausibly natural, but the athleticism they speak of is authentic. The fact she’s wedged between three men in their thirties and apparently lapping it up suggests she might be the kind of person who’d relish being the centre of attention, which equates to further points in her favour. Clearing the floor of a large party to dance with a six-thousand foot tall man who knew how to move around a dance floor was probably right up her street. ‘It’ll be better than dancing with me. You won’t have someone periodically crushing your toes and clawing your coat around.’ He rests his chin in his palm, a smile playing at his lips. ‘Crushed toes are a key part of the experience. If my dance partner isn’t going to crush my toes, what’s the point of it at all?’ She lifts a stilettoed foot. ‘Is a trip to the ER also part of the experience?’ ‘Not as a rule, but it does happen.’ He reaches again for his drink, peering a moment into the glass as if there is something foreign floating in it. Agatha resumes her survey of the room, thoughtful. ‘What about first place?’ She turns in place, scanning the room over her shoulder. ‘Little Elizabeth Howell. She’d dance with you.’ ‘You think so, do you?’ His tone is indulgent rather than interested. ‘Sure. You could put her on your toes and waltz around the room.’ ‘Mm.’ ‘You’d still have a solid foot clear to see where you were going, too.’ ‘Hotly desired in a dancing partner.’ She picks up her glass. ‘Didn’t you promise her a drink?’ ‘I did, yes, but I expect every man and his dog will have made a similar offer.’ ‘You think she fobbed you off?’ ‘I think she’s a lively young person who’d rather be celebrating with other lively young people, not the old fellow who’ll stop after drink number two so he can put himself to bed by eight.’ She smiles. ‘It’s after nine.’ ‘Then we’re alarmingly behind schedule.’ He tips back the last mouthful of his champagne, sets down the glass, and picks up the bottle. He does not need voice the question aloud: Agatha holds out her glass, and Archie begins filling it. ‘The deal was a drink,’ he continues as he pours. ‘She has to work harder for a dance.’ He lifts his gaze, his eyes bright with humour. ‘Aim for the illustrious third place next time.’ ‘A downgrade.’ ‘Not at all,’ he says, leaning back and filling his own glass. ‘Think about the effort it would take to consciously achieve a specific place in the middle. One knows what must be done to finish at the top or the bottom, but how can you account for the movements in the middle? The real talent, when you think about it, is intentionally achieving a specific place in the middle.’ ‘There was no talent involved in my third place, if that’s what you’re working toward.’ He sets the bottle down, smiling.

‘We'll argue that point in a minute,’ he says. * The first thing Archie notices when their table re-enters his view is that Dot has returned from her adventures with the other grooms. It seems premature. He hopes they haven’t done her dirty.

As he makes his way back to the table, he gradually discerns that Dot is wearing a different dress. Not only that, but a different hair-do. And, it seems, a different face. In the simultaneous process of drawing closer and realisation, Agatha turns her face in his direction. She, at least, is the same as when he left her, albeit wearing a suspiciously amused expression. Aware that he is now too much in view to raise his brows in question, he smiles, takes his seat, and begins telling Elizabeth Howell, who is newly seated at their table, how delighted he is that she has managed to join them after all. * When the final glass is finished, the three of them stand. Presumably, Liz will head off to the next party; Archie will head to bed; Agatha's activities are anyone’s guess. He and Elizabeth exchange cheek kisses, an endeavour which requires stooping on his part and tiptoes on hers. Agatha offers a handshake which, judging by her expression, she has found fantastically uncomfortable. He tries his best not smile, but his best is not enough, and he has to look over his shoulder and compose himself.

Goodbyes said and done, the celebrated Miss Howell slips off into the crowd. Agatha and Archie stand in front of the window together, observing the view in silence.

After a beat, he says:

‘She did not mention dancing.’ The ensuing pause is brief. ‘No.’ ‘Did you mention dancing?’ ‘No.’ She turns to look at him in profile. ‘She didn’t earn it.’ ‘Mm.’ He holds in a smile. ‘So how, exactly, did you lure her into joining us at the ‘not-good-enough’ table?’ Agatha turns back to the window as he turns to face her. There’s a dark sort of mischief in her eyes.

Concerning. ‘Agatha?’ Darker, deeper. Delighted. Archie opens his mouth, but there are no words at the ready. ‘You didn’t threaten her, did you?’ ‘Don’t be stupid.’ ‘Then why are you standing there looking like the cat who ate the cream?’ ‘Because I told her there was a tired old man who’d go to bed heartbroken if he didn’t get to have a drink with the exciting young talent of the tour.’ She turns. ‘And that you’d love an autograph. She signed a napkin for you. I think she may have drawn a heart on it, too.’ It is Archie's turn to pause. He holds his hands behind his back and watches the lights of a helicopter blink across the sky. ‘What a flattering portrait you painted.’ She lifts a shoulder in a languid shrug– and the corner of her mouth, in a languid smile. ‘She must have thought so.’

A young woman swishes by and clears their table. Agatha turns again, this time to face the exit. She seems about to leave when a sudden wash of hesitation fills her air.

‘I didn’t actually congratulate you,’ she says. 'Oh— Well. Thank you. No need, really. But thank you.' 'You're shocked.' ‘No.' 'You are.' 'I suppose I wasn't expecting it.' 'Were you expecting me to be a bad sport about it?' 'No— No. Not at all.'

The moment feels like the first steps on untested ice: tentative, quiet; unnerving, ready to crack. Agatha's gaze is unhurried, dark and direct; her scrutiny obvious, her conclusions unreadable. Archie presses his palms together. Looks at the floor; bites his lip; looks at her again. Smiles, gentle.

'Goodnight,' he says.

She lingers a moment longer. Finally, Agatha nods, turns, and follows Elizabeth's lead, vanishing into the crowd. *

(Hastily writing the last few sentences at one AM; no way I'm going to regret this later!!!)

I did say of my CTJL Sydney collaboration with @calveroterranorasj that it was part one. You've probably forgotten about that post. If that's the case, (1) no judgement, and (2) lucky you! I almost never get to forget anything, and as such unfinished projects hang like swords over my head while I battle with the axis powers of an easily distracted nature, crippling perfectionism, and an ungodly amount of artistic self-loathing. Some applaud this as dedication or tenacity, but I don't think this is necessarily a good thing, because some things in life are better forgotten or abandoned. Otherwise you just keep them around like relics and end up sort of tethered to the past, and that's decidedly not a good thing. But that's enough late night philosophy; there's already too much nonsense on this blog.

#The Sims 3 #TS3 #Sims 3 Story #Simblr #Writing #Narrative #Collaboration #Um #Agatha Foskett #Archie Vandover #Elizabeth Howell #CTJL #Location: Sydney

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neocatharsis · 1 year

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🧋奶茶走甜~(Cha Chaan Teng/Silk-stocking Milk Tea/Victoria Harbour) | Tour Box : Chapter 5 | HONG KONG

#nct #wayv #reblog #phantom #Youtube

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aroundtheworldwithphillyfogg · 2 years

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November 6th: Hong Kong.

Land was not signalled until five o’clock on the morning of the 6th; the steamer was due on the 5th. Phileas Fogg was twenty-four hours behind-hand, and the Yokohama steamer would, of course, be missed.

The pilot went on board at six, and took his place on the bridge, to guide the “Rangoon” through the channels to the port of Hong Kong. Passepartout longed to ask him if the steamer had left for Yokohama; but he dared not, for he wished to preserve the spark of hope, which still remained till the last moment. He had confided his anxiety to Fix who—the sly rascal!—tried to console him by saying that Mr. Fogg would be in time if he took the next boat; but this only put Passepartout in a passion.

Mr. Fogg, bolder than his servant, did not hesitate to approach the pilot, and tranquilly ask him if he knew when a steamer would leave Hong Kong for Yokohama.

“At high tide to-morrow morning,” answered the pilot.

“Ah!” said Mr. Fogg, without betraying any astonishment.

Passepartout, who heard what passed, would willingly have embraced the pilot, while Fix would have been glad to twist his neck.

“What is the steamer’s name?” asked Mr. Fogg.

“The ‘Carnatic.’”

“Ought she not to have gone yesterday?”

“Yes, sir; but they had to repair one of her boilers, and so her departure was postponed till to-morrow.”

“Thank you,” returned Mr. Fogg, descending mathematically to the saloon.

Passepartout clasped the pilot’s hand and shook it heartily in his delight, exclaiming, “Pilot, you are the best of good fellows!”

The pilot probably does not know to this day why his responses won him this enthusiastic greeting. He remounted the bridge, and guided the steamer through the flotilla of junks, tankas, and fishing boats which crowd the harbour of Hong Kong.

At one o’clock the “Rangoon” was at the quay, and the passengers were going ashore.

Chance had strangely favoured Phileas Fogg, for had not the “Carnatic” been forced to lie over for repairing her boilers, she would have left on the 6th of November, and the passengers for Japan would have been obliged to await for a week the sailing of the next steamer. Mr. Fogg was, it is true, twenty-four hours behind his time; but this could not seriously imperil the remainder of his tour.

The steamer which crossed the Pacific from Yokohama to San Francisco made a direct connection with that from Hong Kong, and it could not sail until the latter reached Yokohama; and if Mr. Fogg was twenty-four hours late on reaching Yokohama, this time would no doubt be easily regained in the voyage of twenty-two days across the Pacific. He found himself, then, about twenty-four hours behind-hand, thirty-five days after leaving London.

The “Carnatic” was announced to leave Hong Kong at five the next morning. Mr. Fogg had sixteen hours in which to attend to his business there, which was to deposit Aouda safely with her wealthy relative.

On landing, he conducted her to a palanquin, in which they repaired to the Club Hotel. A room was engaged for the young woman, and Mr. Fogg, after seeing that she wanted for nothing, set out in search of her cousin Jeejeeh. He instructed Passepartout to remain at the hotel until his return, that Aouda might not be left entirely alone.

Mr. Fogg repaired to the Exchange, where, he did not doubt, every one would know so wealthy and considerable a personage as the Parsee merchant. Meeting a broker, he made the inquiry, to learn that Jeejeeh had left China two years before, and, retiring from business with an immense fortune, had taken up his residence in Europe—in Holland the broker thought, with the merchants of which country he had principally traded. Phileas Fogg returned to the hotel, begged a moment’s conversation with Aouda, and without more ado, apprised her that Jeejeeh was no longer at Hong Kong, but probably in Holland.

Aouda at first said nothing. She passed her hand across her forehead, and reflected a few moments. Then, in her sweet, soft voice, she said: “What ought I to do, Mr. Fogg?”

“It is very simple,” responded the gentleman. “Go on to Europe.”

“But I cannot intrude—”

“You do not intrude, nor do you in the least embarrass my project. Passepartout!”

“Monsieur.”

“Go to the ‘Carnatic,’ and engage three cabins.”

Passepartout, delighted that the young woman, who was very gracious to him, was going to continue the journey with them, went off at a brisk gait to obey his master’s order.

Hong Kong is an island which came into the possession of the English by the Treaty of Nankin, after the war of 1842; and the colonising genius of the English has created upon it an important city and an excellent port. The island is situated at the mouth of the Canton River, and is separated by about sixty miles from the Portuguese town of Macao, on the opposite coast. Hong Kong has beaten Macao in the struggle for the Chinese trade, and now the greater part of the transportation of Chinese goods finds its depot at the former place. Docks, hospitals, wharves, a Gothic cathedral, a government house, macadamised streets, give to Hong Kong the appearance of a town in Kent or Surrey transferred by some strange magic to the antipodes.

Passepartout wandered, with his hands in his pockets, towards the Victoria port, gazing as he went at the curious palanquins and other modes of conveyance, and the groups of Chinese, Japanese, and Europeans who passed to and fro in the streets. Hong Kong seemed to him not unlike Bombay, Calcutta, and Singapore, since, like them, it betrayed everywhere the evidence of English supremacy. At the Victoria port he found a confused mass of ships of all nations: English, French, American, and Dutch, men-of-war and trading vessels, Japanese and Chinese junks, sempas, tankas, and flower-boats, which formed so many floating parterres. Passepartout noticed in the crowd a number of the natives who seemed very old and were dressed in yellow. On going into a barber’s to get shaved he learned that these ancient men were all at least eighty years old, at which age they are permitted to wear yellow, which is the Imperial colour. Passepartout, without exactly knowing why, thought this very funny.

On reaching the quay where they were to embark on the “Carnatic,” he was not astonished to find Fix walking up and down. The detective seemed very much disturbed and disappointed.

“This is bad,” muttered Passepartout, “for the gentlemen of the Reform Club!” He accosted Fix with a merry smile, as if he had not perceived that gentleman’s chagrin. The detective had, indeed, good reasons to inveigh against the bad luck which pursued him. The warrant had not come! It was certainly on the way, but as certainly it could not now reach Hong Kong for several days; and, this being the last English territory on Mr. Fogg’s route, the robber would escape, unless he could manage to detain him.

“Well, Monsieur Fix,” said Passepartout, “have you decided to go with us so far as America?”

“Yes,” returned Fix, through his set teeth.

“Good!” exclaimed Passepartout, laughing heartily. “I knew you could not persuade yourself to separate from us. Come and engage your berth.”

They entered the steamer office and secured cabins for four persons. The clerk, as he gave them the tickets, informed them that, the repairs on the “Carnatic” having been completed, the steamer would leave that very evening, and not next morning, as had been announced.

“That will suit my master all the better,” said Passepartout. “I will go and let him know.”

Fix now decided to make a bold move; he resolved to tell Passepartout all. It seemed to be the only possible means of keeping Phileas Fogg several days longer at Hong Kong. He accordingly invited his companion into a tavern which caught his eye on the quay. On entering, they found themselves in a large room handsomely decorated, at the end of which was a large camp-bed furnished with cushions. Several persons lay upon this bed in a deep sleep. At the small tables which were arranged about the room some thirty customers were drinking English beer, porter, gin, and brandy; smoking, the while, long red clay pipes stuffed with little balls of opium mingled with essence of rose. From time to time one of the smokers, overcome with the narcotic, would slip under the table, whereupon the waiters, taking him by the head and feet, carried and laid him upon the bed. The bed already supported twenty of these stupefied sots.

Fix and Passepartout saw that they were in a smoking-house haunted by those wretched, cadaverous, idiotic creatures to whom the English merchants sell every year the miserable drug called opium, to the amount of one million four hundred thousand pounds—thousands devoted to one of the most despicable vices which afflict humanity! The Chinese government has in vain attempted to deal with the evil by stringent laws. It passed gradually from the rich, to whom it was at first exclusively reserved, to the lower classes, and then its ravages could not be arrested. Opium is smoked everywhere, at all times, by men and women, in the Celestial Empire; and, once accustomed to it, the victims cannot dispense with it, except by suffering horrible bodily contortions and agonies. A great smoker can smoke as many as eight pipes a day; but he dies in five years. It was in one of these dens that Fix and Passepartout, in search of a friendly glass, found themselves. Passepartout had no money, but willingly accepted Fix’s invitation in the hope of returning the obligation at some future time.

They ordered two bottles of port, to which the Frenchman did ample justice, whilst Fix observed him with close attention. They chatted about the journey, and Passepartout was especially merry at the idea that Fix was going to continue it with them. When the bottles were empty, however, he rose to go and tell his master of the change in the time of the sailing of the “Carnatic.”

Fix caught him by the arm, and said, “Wait a moment.”

“What for, Mr. Fix?”

“I want to have a serious talk with you.”

“A serious talk!” cried Passepartout, drinking up the little wine that was left in the bottom of his glass. “Well, we’ll talk about it to-morrow; I haven’t time now.”

“Stay! What I have to say concerns your master.”

Passepartout, at this, looked attentively at his companion. Fix’s face seemed to have a singular expression. He resumed his seat.

“What is it that you have to say?”

Fix placed his hand upon Passepartout’s arm, and, lowering his voice, said, “You have guessed who I am?”

“Parbleu!” said Passepartout, smiling.

“Then I’m going to tell you everything—”

“Now that I know everything, my friend! Ah! that’s very good. But go on, go on. First, though, let me tell you that those gentlemen have put themselves to a useless expense.”

“Useless!” said Fix. “You speak confidently. It’s clear that you don’t know how large the sum is.”

“Of course I do,” returned Passepartout. “Twenty thousand pounds.”

“Fifty-five thousand!” answered Fix, pressing his companion’s hand.

“What!” cried the Frenchman. “Has Monsieur Fogg dared—fifty-five thousand pounds! Well, there’s all the more reason for not losing an instant,” he continued, getting up hastily.

Fix pushed Passepartout back in his chair, and resumed: “Fifty-five thousand pounds; and if I succeed, I get two thousand pounds. If you’ll help me, I’ll let you have five hundred of them.”

“Help you?” cried Passepartout, whose eyes were standing wide open.

“Yes; help me keep Mr. Fogg here for two or three days.”

“Why, what are you saying? Those gentlemen are not satisfied with following my master and suspecting his honour, but they must try to put obstacles in his way! I blush for them!”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that it is a piece of shameful trickery. They might as well waylay Mr. Fogg and put his money in their pockets!”

“That’s just what we count on doing.”

“It’s a conspiracy, then,” cried Passepartout, who became more and more excited as the liquor mounted in his head, for he drank without perceiving it. “A real conspiracy! And gentlemen, too. Bah!”

Fix began to be puzzled.

“Members of the Reform Club!” continued Passepartout. “You must know, Monsieur Fix, that my master is an honest man, and that, when he makes a wager, he tries to win it fairly!”

“But who do you think I am?” asked Fix, looking at him intently.

“Parbleu! An agent of the members of the Reform Club, sent out here to interrupt my master’s journey. But, though I found you out some time ago, I’ve taken good care to say nothing about it to Mr. Fogg.”

“He knows nothing, then?”

“Nothing,” replied Passepartout, again emptying his glass.

The detective passed his hand across his forehead, hesitating before he spoke again. What should he do? Passepartout’s mistake seemed sincere, but it made his design more difficult. It was evident that the servant was not the master’s accomplice, as Fix had been inclined to suspect.

“Well,” said the detective to himself, “as he is not an accomplice, he will help me.”

He had no time to lose: Fogg must be detained at Hong Kong, so he resolved to make a clean breast of it.

“Listen to me,” said Fix abruptly. “I am not, as you think, an agent of the members of the Reform Club—”

“Bah!” retorted Passepartout, with an air of raillery.

“I am a police detective, sent out here by the London office.”

“You, a detective?”

“I will prove it. Here is my commission.”

Passepartout was speechless with astonishment when Fix displayed this document, the genuineness of which could not be doubted.

“Mr. Fogg’s wager,” resumed Fix, “is only a pretext, of which you and the gentlemen of the Reform are dupes. He had a motive for securing your innocent complicity.”

“But why?”

“Listen. On the 28th of last September a robbery of fifty-five thousand pounds was committed at the Bank of England by a person whose description was fortunately secured. Here is his description; it answers exactly to that of Mr. Phileas Fogg.”

“What nonsense!” cried Passepartout, striking the table with his fist. “My master is the most honourable of men!”

“How can you tell? You know scarcely anything about him. You went into his service the day he came away; and he came away on a foolish pretext, without trunks, and carrying a large amount in banknotes. And yet you are bold enough to assert that he is an honest man!”

“Yes, yes,” repeated the poor fellow, mechanically.

“Would you like to be arrested as his accomplice?”

Passepartout, overcome by what he had heard, held his head between his hands, and did not dare to look at the detective. Phileas Fogg, the saviour of Aouda, that brave and generous man, a robber! And yet how many presumptions there were against him! Passepartout essayed to reject the suspicions which forced themselves upon his mind; he did not wish to believe that his master was guilty.

“Well, what do you want of me?” said he, at last, with an effort.

“See here,” replied Fix; “I have tracked Mr. Fogg to this place, but as yet I have failed to receive the warrant of arrest for which I sent to London. You must help me to keep him here in Hong Kong—”

“I! But I—”

“I will share with you the two thousand pounds reward offered by the Bank of England.”

“Never!” replied Passepartout, who tried to rise, but fell back, exhausted in mind and body.

“Mr. Fix,” he stammered, “even should what you say be true—if my master is really the robber you are seeking for—which I deny—I have been, am, in his service; I have seen his generosity and goodness; and I will never betray him—not for all the gold in the world. I come from a village where they don’t eat that kind of bread!”

“You refuse?”

“I refuse.”

“Consider that I’ve said nothing,” said Fix; “and let us drink.”

“Yes; let us drink!”

Passepartout felt himself yielding more and more to the effects of the liquor. Fix, seeing that he must, at all hazards, be separated from his master, wished to entirely overcome him. Some pipes full of opium lay upon the table. Fix slipped one into Passepartout’s hand. He took it, put it between his lips, lit it, drew several puffs, and his head, becoming heavy under the influence of the narcotic, fell upon the table.

“At last!” said Fix, seeing Passepartout unconscious. “Mr. Fogg will not be informed of the ‘Carnatic’s’ departure; and, if he is, he will have to go without this cursed Frenchman!”

And, after paying his bill, Fix left the tavern.

While these events were passing at the opium-house, Mr. Fogg, unconscious of the danger he was in of losing the steamer, was quietly escorting Aouda about the streets of the English quarter, making the necessary purchases for the long voyage before them. It was all very well for an Englishman like Mr. Fogg to make the tour of the world with a carpet-bag; a lady could not be expected to travel comfortably under such conditions. He acquitted his task with characteristic serenity, and invariably replied to the remonstrances of his fair companion, who was confused by his patience and generosity:

“It is in the interest of my journey—a part of my programme.”

The purchases made, they returned to the hotel, where they dined at a sumptuously served table-d’hôte; after which Aouda, shaking hands with her protector after the English fashion, retired to her room for rest. Mr. Fogg absorbed himself throughout the evening in the perusal of the Times and Illustrated London News.

---

The “Carnatic,” setting sail from Hong Kong at half-past six on the 7th of November, directed her course at full steam towards Japan. She carried a large cargo and a well-filled cabin of passengers. Two state-rooms in the rear were, however, unoccupied—those which had been engaged by Phileas Fogg.

The next day a passenger with a half-stupefied eye, staggering gait, and disordered hair, was seen to emerge from the second cabin, and to totter to a seat on deck.

It was Passepartout; and what had happened to him was as follows: Shortly after Fix left the opium den, two waiters had lifted the unconscious Passepartout, and had carried him to the bed reserved for the smokers. Three hours later, pursued even in his dreams by a fixed idea, the poor fellow awoke, and struggled against the stupefying influence of the narcotic. The thought of a duty unfulfilled shook off his torpor, and he hurried from the abode of drunkenness. Staggering and holding himself up by keeping against the walls, falling down and creeping up again, and irresistibly impelled by a kind of instinct, he kept crying out, “The ‘Carnatic!’ the ‘Carnatic!’”

The steamer lay puffing alongside the quay, on the point of starting. Passepartout had but few steps to go; and, rushing upon the plank, he crossed it, and fell unconscious on the deck, just as the “Carnatic” was moving off. Several sailors, who were evidently accustomed to this sort of scene, carried the poor Frenchman down into the second cabin, and Passepartout did not wake until they were one hundred and fifty miles away from China.

#Around the World in 80 Days #Jules Verne #around the world in 80 dailies

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gautammander · 2 months

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6 Most Popular Restaurants in Hong Kong

Hong Kong is a bustling city that is home to many different cultures, cuisines and traditions. It is located on China's southeast coast. This city is well-known for its breath taking skyline, busy harbour and rich history. It is also a culinary paradise that draws travellers from all over the world. Hong Kong, a special administrative territory of China is known for its distinctive fusion of Eastern and Western cultures which is evident in the wide range of cuisines it offers. Hong Kong offers a wide variety of cuisine to suit every taste, including Michelin-starred dishes, modern fusion, and traditional dim sum.

Any tour to Hong Kong must include a gastronomic exploration as the city is home to some of the world's most renowned restaurants. Hong Kong's food industry is as dynamic as the city itself offering everything from spectacular skyline views at upscale restaurants to hidden gems nestled away in its energetic neighbourhoods. We'll walk you through six of the most well-liked eateries in Hong Kong in this guide, which ought to be on the itinerary of any food enthusiast.

Here are the 6 Most Popular Restaurants in Hong Kong

1. Racines:

Racines is a quaint fine dining café on Upper Station Street in Sheung Wan. The name Racines translates to "roots" in French. With just 14 seats Racines provides a cozy dining experience under the direction of chefs Adriena Castillo and Romain Dupeyre, who were both previously employed at the two-Michelin-starred La Chévre d'Or on the French Riviera. For those looking for sophisticated French cuisine in Hong Kong, this restaurant is a must-visit. It serves French classics with a contemporary touch and its seasonal five- and seven-course tasting menus make use of French and locally sourced ingredients.

2. The Chairman Restaurant:

It is a classy eating venue that serves authentic Cantonese food. It is located at the intersection of Gough Street and Kau U Fong. The restaurant was founded in 2009 by seasoned restaurateur Danny Yip, and since then, it has been committed to conserving the culinary customs of the Guangdong diaspora and Hong Kong. The Chairman is well known for its dedication to using traditional cooking methods and fresh, locally produced products, providing a genuine sense of Hong Kong's rich culinary legacy.

3. Mora:

Chef Vicky Lau who is well-known for her Tate Dining Room founded Mora her second restaurant. Mora is a French-Chinese fusion restaurant with a seasonal menu that showcases the diversity of soy. It is located in Hong Kong. In keeping with Chef Vicky's heritage Mora offers a distinctive and carefully crafted dining experience that embodies both traditions with Head Chef Percy Ho spearheading the culinary staff.

4. Ming Pavilion:

The newest culinary treasure on Island Shangri-La, Ming Pavilion takes guests on an experiential culinary tour of the rich culinary traditions of Fujian, a coastal province in southeast China. Fujian which is well-known for its lush farms and close proximity to the sea, is home to Hokkien cuisine which is celebrated at Ming Pavilion using age-old methods .The restaurant honours the region's culinary legacy by providing a varied and genuine eating experience that brings the flavours of Fujian to life.

5. Amber:

Amber is a classy restaurant that reinvents French cuisine with a contemporary touch. It is housed at The Landmark Mandarin Oriental in Hong Kong. Under the direction of Chef Richard Ekkebus, Amber specializes in creating inventive, airy and exquisitely presented dishes by combining quality food with classic French cooking methods. With specialties like takaba grouper with tete de veau and crispy kataifi-covered frog legs the restaurant has won multiple accolades for its innovative take on haute cuisine.

6. Caprice:

A well-known French fine dining restaurant offering an elegant culinary experience Caprice is tucked away within the upscale Four Seasons Hotel in Hong Kong. Along with an exceptional wine list and an array of gourmet cheeses the restaurant offers a vegetarian cuisine. The adjoining Caprice Bar offers a cozy setting for savouring fine wines and seasonal cocktails, making it the ideal location for an elegant dining experience. Chef de Cuisine Guillaume Galliot incorporates international flavours into classic French cuisine by drawing on his extensive travel experiences.

Conclusion:

In summary, Hong Kong's eating scene offers a superb variety of culinary experiences that satisfy all tastes reflecting the city's dynamic cultural diversity. Every restaurant exhibits a different fusion of history and innovation from the chic French elegance of Racines and Caprice to the inventive French and Chinese cuisines of Mora. These restaurants offer a unique and unforgettable culinary experience, whether you're savouring the real Cantonese food at The Chairman Restaurant or discovering the rich history of Hokkien cuisine at Ming Pavilion.

If you're thinking about visiting this vibrant city making time to check out these best eateries should be at the top of your list. A Hongkong Tour gives you the chance to fully immerse yourself in the rich history and culture that make this city so unique, in addition to enjoying dining at some of the best restaurants in the world. These six well-liked eateries offer a culinary experience that will make an impression, regardless of your level of culinary expertise or desire to simply enjoy the best of Hong Kong.

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dan6085 · 3 months

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Here are some of the top tourist spots in Hong Kong, along with visitor numbers and details on their popularity:

1. Victoria Peak

Annual visitors: Over 7 million

Popularity: Offers stunning panoramic views of Hong Kong's skyline and harbor. The Peak Tram funicular railway to the top is an iconic experience.

2. Hong Kong Disneyland

Annual visitors: Around 6.5 million

Popularity: The first Disney park in China, featuring unique attractions blending Disney magic with Chinese culture.

3. Ocean Park Hong Kong

Annual visitors: Approximately 5.8 million

Popularity: Combines marine life exhibits, animal shows, and thrill rides in a scenic seaside setting.

4. Tian Tan Buddha (Big Buddha)

Annual visitors: Over 1 million

Popularity: One of the world's largest seated bronze Buddha statues, offering spiritual and cultural significance.

5. Temple Street Night Market

Annual visitors: Millions (exact numbers unavailable)

Popularity: Vibrant night market known for street food, fortune tellers, and bargain shopping.

6. Tsim Sha Tsui Promenade

Annual visitors: Millions (exact numbers unavailable)

Popularity: Offers spectacular views of Victoria Harbour and Hong Kong Island skyline, especially during the Symphony of Lights show.

7. Star Ferry

Annual passengers: Over 26 million

Popularity: Iconic ferry service offering scenic harbor crossings between Hong Kong Island and Kowloon.

8. Wong Tai Sin Temple

Annual visitors: Over 3 million

Popularity: Famous Taoist temple known for its colorful architecture and fortune-telling rituals.

9. Hong Kong Park

Annual visitors: Over 3 million

Popularity: Urban oasis featuring gardens, tea houses, and an aviary, popular for its blend of natural and modern elements.

10. Lantau Island

Annual visitors: Millions (exact numbers unavailable)

Popularity: Home to the Big Buddha, traditional fishing villages, and scenic hiking trails.

11. Mong Kok Markets

Annual visitors: Millions (exact numbers unavailable)

Popularity: A bustling area with various themed streets and markets, including Ladies' Market and Sneaker Street, offering a vibrant shopping experience.

12. Hong Kong Museum of History

Annual visitors: Around 1 million

Popularity: Provides a comprehensive overview of Hong Kong's history and culture through interactive exhibits.

13. Ngong Ping 360

Annual visitors: Over 1.8 million

Popularity: Cable car ride offering breathtaking views of Lantau Island, leading to the Big Buddha and Po Lin Monastery.

14. Tai O Fishing Village

Annual visitors: Over 1 million

Popularity: Traditional stilt houses and boat tours offer a glimpse into Hong Kong's fishing heritage.

15. Hong Kong Science Museum

Annual visitors: Around 1.5 million

Popularity: Interactive exhibits and demonstrations make science accessible and fun for all ages.

16. Kowloon Walled City Park

Annual visitors: Over 1 million

Popularity: A tranquil garden built on the site of the infamous Kowloon Walled City, blending history with nature.

17. Ten Thousand Buddhas Monastery

Annual visitors: Hundreds of thousands (exact numbers unavailable)

Popularity: Features thousands of Buddha statues and offers panoramic views of Sha Tin.

18. Hong Kong Wetland Park

Annual visitors: Around 470,000

Popularity: Showcases Hong Kong's diverse wetland ecosystem and wildlife, popular among nature enthusiasts.

19. Sai Kung

Annual visitors: Millions (exact numbers unavailable)

Popularity: Known for its beautiful beaches, seafood restaurants, and access to hiking trails in the New Territories.

20. Lamma Island

Annual visitors: Over 1 million

Popularity: Offers a laid-back atmosphere with seafood restaurants, beaches, and hiking trails, providing a contrast to urban Hong Kong.

These attractions showcase Hong Kong's diversity, from bustling markets and cultural sites to natural landscapes and outlying islands. They appeal to a wide range of interests, including shopping, history, nature, and local culture, making Hong Kong a multifaceted destination for tourists. The accessibility of these spots via Hong Kong's efficient public transportation system further enhances their popularity.

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tillzzy · 5 months

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FMP

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‌

#vco664 #fmp

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gktravel · 10 months

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The Top 10 Boat Tours in China

China is home to a wide variety of landscapes and culture riches, and boat travels are among the most interesting ways to take in the beautiful scenery and interesting historical sites. These top 10 boat trips in China promise to take you to a world of beautiful landscape, historic beauty, and unique cultural experiences. From the famous Li River cruise amid Guilin's weird karst formations to the grandeur of a Three Gorges experience down the Yangtze River. These boat trips provide a variety of unique and amazing experiences throughout the centre of China, whether you're looking for peace on Hangzhou's West Lake, the romantic canals of Suzhou, or the glittering skyline of Hong Kong.

Planning a trip to China from Dubai is a wonderful commitment, and the availability of China visa from Dubai makes your trip much more possible. China holiday packages from Dubai provide an easy way to experience it all, whether your goals are to see the Great Wall of China, experience the tastes of real Chinese food, or take part in the country's rich history of culture. Travellers from Dubai find travelling into the centre of China to be a tempting possibility thanks to these packages, which offer carefully planned schedules, assist with obtaining a visa, and a promise of memorable experiences.

Here are ten boat tours in China that offer incredible experiences:

1. Li River Cruise (Guilin): The beautiful karst limestone structures of Guilin are the main attraction of the Li River cruise. One of China's most famous boat travels is the beautiful route between Guilin and Yangshuo, which offers beautiful scenery along the way.

2. Three Gorges Cruise (Yangtze River): This is one of China's most popular and gorgeous cruises on the river. It gives you a view of the famous Three Gorges Dam while passing through the beautiful Three Gorges area.

3. Hangzhou's West Lake Boat Tour (Hangzhou): The West Lake in Hangzhou is well-known for both its cultural and natural beauty. You may see historical landmarks and temples while taking in the peaceful atmosphere by taking a boat travel on West Lake.

4. Suzhou Canals (Suzhou): As a result of its complicated system of canals, Suzhou is sometimes called the "Venice of the East". You can discover Suzhou's beautiful rivers and historic gardens on a boat tour.

5. Hong Kong Harbour Cruise (Hong Kong): Victoria Harbour in Hong Kong is well-known for its gorgeous skyline. A harbour trip, particularly during the Concert of Lights show, provides expansive views of the city's towers.

6. Pudong River Cruise (Shanghai): From the Bund to the Oriental Pearl Tower, a Pudong River ride offers a unique view of Shanghai's modern skyline.

7. Pearl River Night Cruise (Guangzhou): At night, the Pearl River in Guangzhou glows with colourful lights and modern structures. A Pearl River moonlight ride is a great experience.

8. Yulong River Bamboo Rafting (Yangshuo): The peaceful Yulong River is a great place to do bamboo rafting. It's an easy and beautiful journey, with karst peaks and green landscape.

9. Erhai Lake Cruise (Dali): Located in the Yunnan Province, Erhai Lake offers boat travels with amazing views of the mountains, as well as the opportunity to visit historic fishing communities and cultural events.

10. Lijiang Old Town Canal Ride: With its historic canals connecting the town, Lijiang's Old Town is a UNESCO World Heritage site. You can explore the unique architecture and culture of this old town by taking a boat ride.

Conclusion:

The top 10 boat trips in China offer an incredible opportunity to explore the variety of landscapes and rich history of the nation. These boat ride offer a unique insight into the rich fabric of China's natural beauty, history, and modern cities life, from the serene waters of West Lake to the busy harbours of Hong Kong and Shanghai. These boat trips offer amazing views and a greater understanding of China's different facets, whether you're looking for peaceful reflection or energetic cityscapes. So, travel on one of these incredible trips and allow the Chinese waters to transport you to a world of wonder. For more information visit best tour operator in Dubai.

#best travel agency in dubai #best tourism company in dubai #best tour operator in Dubai

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hellsitesonlybookclub · 10 months

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Around the World in 80 Days by Jules Verne

CHAPTER XX. IN WHICH FIX COMES FACE TO FACE WITH PHILEAS FOGG

“It is in the interest of my journey—a part of my programme.”

Had he been capable of being astonished at anything, it would have been not to see his servant return at bedtime. But, knowing that the steamer was not to leave for Yokohama until the next morning, he did not disturb himself about the matter. When Passepartout did not appear the next morning to answer his master’s bell, Mr. Fogg, not betraying the least vexation, contented himself with taking his carpet-bag, calling Aouda, and sending for a palanquin.

It was then eight o’clock; at half-past nine, it being then high tide, the “Carnatic” would leave the harbour. Mr. Fogg and Aouda got into the palanquin, their luggage being brought after on a wheelbarrow, and half an hour later stepped upon the quay whence they were to embark. Mr. Fogg then learned that the “Carnatic” had sailed the evening before. He had expected to find not only the steamer, but his domestic, and was forced to give up both; but no sign of disappointment appeared on his face, and he merely remarked to Aouda, “It is an accident, madam; nothing more.”

At this moment a man who had been observing him attentively approached. It was Fix, who, bowing, addressed Mr. Fogg: “Were you not, like me, sir, a passenger by the ‘Rangoon,’ which arrived yesterday?”

“I was, sir,” replied Mr. Fogg coldly. “But I have not the honour—”

“Pardon me; I thought I should find your servant here.”

“Do you know where he is, sir?” asked Aouda anxiously.

“What!” responded Fix, feigning surprise. “Is he not with you?”

“No,” said Aouda. “He has not made his appearance since yesterday. Could he have gone on board the ‘Carnatic’ without us?”

“Without you, madam?” answered the detective. “Excuse me, did you intend to sail in the ‘Carnatic’?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So did I, madam, and I am excessively disappointed. The ‘Carnatic’, its repairs being completed, left Hong Kong twelve hours before the stated time, without any notice being given; and we must now wait a week for another steamer.”

As he said “a week” Fix felt his heart leap for joy. Fogg detained at Hong Kong for a week! There would be time for the warrant to arrive, and fortune at last favoured the representative of the law. His horror may be imagined when he heard Mr. Fogg say, in his placid voice, “But there are other vessels besides the ‘Carnatic,’ it seems to me, in the harbour of Hong Kong.”

And, offering his arm to Aouda, he directed his steps toward the docks in search of some craft about to start. Fix, stupefied, followed; it seemed as if he were attached to Mr. Fogg by an invisible thread. Chance, however, appeared really to have abandoned the man it had hitherto served so well. For three hours Phileas Fogg wandered about the docks, with the determination, if necessary, to charter a vessel to carry him to Yokohama; but he could only find vessels which were loading or unloading, and which could not therefore set sail. Fix began to hope again.

But Mr. Fogg, far from being discouraged, was continuing his search, resolved not to stop if he had to resort to Macao, when he was accosted by a sailor on one of the wharves.

“Is your honour looking for a boat?”

“Have you a boat ready to sail?”

“Yes, your honour; a pilot-boat—No. 43—the best in the harbour.”

“Does she go fast?”

“Between eight and nine knots the hour. Will you look at her?”

“Yes.”

“Your honour will be satisfied with her. Is it for a sea excursion?”

“No; for a voyage.”

“A voyage?”

“Yes, will you agree to take me to Yokohama?”

The sailor leaned on the railing, opened his eyes wide, and said, “Is your honour joking?”

“No. I have missed the ‘Carnatic,’ and I must get to Yokohama by the 14th at the latest, to take the boat for San Francisco.”

“I am sorry,” said the sailor; “but it is impossible.”

“I offer you a hundred pounds per day, and an additional reward of two hundred pounds if I reach Yokohama in time.”

“Are you in earnest?”

“Very much so.”

The pilot walked away a little distance, and gazed out to sea, evidently struggling between the anxiety to gain a large sum and the fear of venturing so far. Fix was in mortal suspense.

Mr. Fogg turned to Aouda and asked her, “You would not be afraid, would you, madam?”

“Not with you, Mr. Fogg,” was her answer.

The pilot now returned, shuffling his hat in his hands.

“Well, pilot?” said Mr. Fogg.

“Well, your honour,” replied he, “I could not risk myself, my men, or my little boat of scarcely twenty tons on so long a voyage at this time of year. Besides, we could not reach Yokohama in time, for it is sixteen hundred and sixty miles from Hong Kong.”

“Only sixteen hundred,” said Mr. Fogg.

“It’s the same thing.”

Fix breathed more freely.

“But,” added the pilot, “it might be arranged another way.”

Fix ceased to breathe at all.

“How?” asked Mr. Fogg.

“By going to Nagasaki, at the extreme south of Japan, or even to Shanghai, which is only eight hundred miles from here. In going to Shanghai we should not be forced to sail wide of the Chinese coast, which would be a great advantage, as the currents run northward, and would aid us.”

“Pilot,” said Mr. Fogg, “I must take the American steamer at Yokohama, and not at Shanghai or Nagasaki.”

“Why not?” returned the pilot. “The San Francisco steamer does not start from Yokohama. It puts in at Yokohama and Nagasaki, but it starts from Shanghai.”

“You are sure of that?”

“Perfectly.”

“And when does the boat leave Shanghai?”

“On the 11th, at seven in the evening. We have, therefore, four days before us, that is ninety-six hours; and in that time, if we had good luck and a south-west wind, and the sea was calm, we could make those eight hundred miles to Shanghai.”

“And you could go—”

“In an hour; as soon as provisions could be got aboard and the sails put up.”

“It is a bargain. Are you the master of the boat?”

“Yes; John Bunsby, master of the ‘Tankadere.’”

“Would you like some earnest-money?”

“If it would not put your honour out—”

“Here are two hundred pounds on account sir,” added Phileas Fogg, turning to Fix, “if you would like to take advantage—”

“Thanks, sir; I was about to ask the favour.”

“Very well. In half an hour we shall go on board.”

“But poor Passepartout?” urged Aouda, who was much disturbed by the servant’s disappearance.

“I shall do all I can to find him,” replied Phileas Fogg.

While Fix, in a feverish, nervous state, repaired to the pilot-boat, the others directed their course to the police-station at Hong Kong. Phileas Fogg there gave Passepartout’s description, and left a sum of money to be spent in the search for him. The same formalities having been gone through at the French consulate, and the palanquin having stopped at the hotel for the luggage, which had been sent back there, they returned to the wharf.

It was now three o’clock; and pilot-boat No. 43, with its crew on board, and its provisions stored away, was ready for departure.

The “Tankadere” was a neat little craft of twenty tons, as gracefully built as if she were a racing yacht. Her shining copper sheathing, her galvanised iron-work, her deck, white as ivory, betrayed the pride taken by John Bunsby in making her presentable. Her two masts leaned a trifle backward; she carried brigantine, foresail, storm-jib, and standing-jib, and was well rigged for running before the wind; and she seemed capable of brisk speed, which, indeed, she had already proved by gaining several prizes in pilot-boat races. The crew of the “Tankadere” was composed of John Bunsby, the master, and four hardy mariners, who were familiar with the Chinese seas. John Bunsby, himself, a man of forty-five or thereabouts, vigorous, sunburnt, with a sprightly expression of the eye, and energetic and self-reliant countenance, would have inspired confidence in the most timid.

Phileas Fogg and Aouda went on board, where they found Fix already installed. Below deck was a square cabin, of which the walls bulged out in the form of cots, above a circular divan; in the centre was a table provided with a swinging lamp. The accommodation was confined, but neat.

“I am sorry to have nothing better to offer you,” said Mr. Fogg to Fix, who bowed without responding.

The detective had a feeling akin to humiliation in profiting by the kindness of Mr. Fogg.

“It’s certain,” thought he, “though rascal as he is, he is a polite one!”

The sails and the English flag were hoisted at ten minutes past three. Mr. Fogg and Aouda, who were seated on deck, cast a last glance at the quay, in the hope of espying Passepartout. Fix was not without his fears lest chance should direct the steps of the unfortunate servant, whom he had so badly treated, in this direction; in which case an explanation the reverse of satisfactory to the detective must have ensued. But the Frenchman did not appear, and, without doubt, was still lying under the stupefying influence of the opium.

John Bunsby, master, at length gave the order to start, and the “Tankadere,” taking the wind under her brigantine, foresail, and standing-jib, bounded briskly forward over the waves.

CHAPTER XXI. IN WHICH THE MASTER OF THE “TANKADERE” RUNS GREAT RISK OF LOSING A REWARD OF TWO HUNDRED POUNDS

This voyage of eight hundred miles was a perilous venture on a craft of twenty tons, and at that season of the year. The Chinese seas are usually boisterous, subject to terrible gales of wind, and especially during the equinoxes; and it was now early November.

It would clearly have been to the master’s advantage to carry his passengers to Yokohama, since he was paid a certain sum per day; but he would have been rash to attempt such a voyage, and it was imprudent even to attempt to reach Shanghai. But John Bunsby believed in the “Tankadere,” which rode on the waves like a seagull; and perhaps he was not wrong.

Late in the day they passed through the capricious channels of Hong Kong, and the “Tankadere,” impelled by favourable winds, conducted herself admirably.

“I do not need, pilot,” said Phileas Fogg, when they got into the open sea, “to advise you to use all possible speed.”

“Trust me, your honour. We are carrying all the sail the wind will let us. The poles would add nothing, and are only used when we are going into port.”

“It’s your trade, not mine, pilot, and I confide in you.”

Phileas Fogg, with body erect and legs wide apart, standing like a sailor, gazed without staggering at the swelling waters. The young woman, who was seated aft, was profoundly affected as she looked out upon the ocean, darkening now with the twilight, on which she had ventured in so frail a vessel. Above her head rustled the white sails, which seemed like great white wings. The boat, carried forward by the wind, seemed to be flying in the air.

Night came. The moon was entering her first quarter, and her insufficient light would soon die out in the mist on the horizon. Clouds were rising from the east, and already overcast a part of the heavens.

The pilot had hung out his lights, which was very necessary in these seas crowded with vessels bound landward; for collisions are not uncommon occurrences, and, at the speed she was going, the least shock would shatter the gallant little craft.

Fix, seated in the bow, gave himself up to meditation. He kept apart from his fellow-travellers, knowing Mr. Fogg’s taciturn tastes; besides, he did not quite like to talk to the man whose favours he had accepted. He was thinking, too, of the future. It seemed certain that Fogg would not stop at Yokohama, but would at once take the boat for San Francisco; and the vast extent of America would ensure him impunity and safety. Fogg’s plan appeared to him the simplest in the world. Instead of sailing directly from England to the United States, like a common villain, he had traversed three quarters of the globe, so as to gain the American continent more surely; and there, after throwing the police off his track, he would quietly enjoy himself with the fortune stolen from the bank. But, once in the United States, what should he, Fix, do? Should he abandon this man? No, a hundred times no! Until he had secured his extradition, he would not lose sight of him for an hour. It was his duty, and he would fulfil it to the end. At all events, there was one thing to be thankful for; Passepartout was not with his master; and it was above all important, after the confidences Fix had imparted to him, that the servant should never have speech with his master.

Phileas Fogg was also thinking of Passepartout, who had so strangely disappeared. Looking at the matter from every point of view, it did not seem to him impossible that, by some mistake, the man might have embarked on the “Carnatic” at the last moment; and this was also Aouda’s opinion, who regretted very much the loss of the worthy fellow to whom she owed so much. They might then find him at Yokohama; for, if the “Carnatic” was carrying him thither, it would be easy to ascertain if he had been on board.

A brisk breeze arose about ten o’clock; but, though it might have been prudent to take in a reef, the pilot, after carefully examining the heavens, let the craft remain rigged as before. The “Tankadere” bore sail admirably, as she drew a great deal of water, and everything was prepared for high speed in case of a gale.

Mr. Fogg and Aouda descended into the cabin at midnight, having been already preceded by Fix, who had lain down on one of the cots. The pilot and crew remained on deck all night.

At sunrise the next day, which was 8th November, the boat had made more than one hundred miles. The log indicated a mean speed of between eight and nine miles. The “Tankadere” still carried all sail, and was accomplishing her greatest capacity of speed. If the wind held as it was, the chances would be in her favour. During the day she kept along the coast, where the currents were favourable; the coast, irregular in profile, and visible sometimes across the clearings, was at most five miles distant. The sea was less boisterous, since the wind came off land—a fortunate circumstance for the boat, which would suffer, owing to its small tonnage, by a heavy surge on the sea.

The breeze subsided a little towards noon, and set in from the south-west. The pilot put up his poles, but took them down again within two hours, as the wind freshened up anew.

Mr. Fogg and Aouda, happily unaffected by the roughness of the sea, ate with a good appetite, Fix being invited to share their repast, which he accepted with secret chagrin. To travel at this man’s expense and live upon his provisions was not palatable to him. Still, he was obliged to eat, and so he ate.

When the meal was over, he took Mr. Fogg apart, and said, “sir”—this “sir” scorched his lips, and he had to control himself to avoid collaring this “gentleman”—“sir, you have been very kind to give me a passage on this boat. But, though my means will not admit of my expending them as freely as you, I must ask to pay my share—”

“Let us not speak of that, sir,” replied Mr. Fogg.

“But, if I insist—”

“No, sir,” repeated Mr. Fogg, in a tone which did not admit of a reply. “This enters into my general expenses.”

Fix, as he bowed, had a stifled feeling, and, going forward, where he ensconced himself, did not open his mouth for the rest of the day.

Meanwhile they were progressing famously, and John Bunsby was in high hope. He several times assured Mr. Fogg that they would reach Shanghai in time; to which that gentleman responded that he counted upon it. The crew set to work in good earnest, inspired by the reward to be gained. There was not a sheet which was not tightened, not a sail which was not vigorously hoisted; not a lurch could be charged to the man at the helm. They worked as desperately as if they were contesting in a Royal yacht regatta.

By evening, the log showed that two hundred and twenty miles had been accomplished from Hong Kong, and Mr. Fogg might hope that he would be able to reach Yokohama without recording any delay in his journal; in which case, the many misadventures which had overtaken him since he left London would not seriously affect his journey.

The “Tankadere” entered the Straits of Fo-Kien, which separate the island of Formosa from the Chinese coast, in the small hours of the night, and crossed the Tropic of Cancer. The sea was very rough in the straits, full of eddies formed by the counter-currents, and the chopping waves broke her course, whilst it became very difficult to stand on deck.

At daybreak the wind began to blow hard again, and the heavens seemed to predict a gale. The barometer announced a speedy change, the mercury rising and falling capriciously; the sea also, in the south-east, raised long surges which indicated a tempest. The sun had set the evening before in a red mist, in the midst of the phosphorescent scintillations of the ocean.

John Bunsby long examined the threatening aspect of the heavens, muttering indistinctly between his teeth. At last he said in a low voice to Mr. Fogg, “Shall I speak out to your honour?”

“Of course.”

“Well, we are going to have a squall.”

“Is the wind north or south?” asked Mr. Fogg quietly.

“South. Look! a typhoon is coming up.”

“Glad it’s a typhoon from the south, for it will carry us forward.”

“Oh, if you take it that way,” said John Bunsby, “I’ve nothing more to say.” John Bunsby’s suspicions were confirmed. At a less advanced season of the year the typhoon, according to a famous meteorologist, would have passed away like a luminous cascade of electric flame; but in the winter equinox it was to be feared that it would burst upon them with great violence.

The pilot took his precautions in advance. He reefed all sail, the pole-masts were dispensed with; all hands went forward to the bows. A single triangular sail, of strong canvas, was hoisted as a storm-jib, so as to hold the wind from behind. Then they waited.

John Bunsby had requested his passengers to go below; but this imprisonment in so narrow a space, with little air, and the boat bouncing in the gale, was far from pleasant. Neither Mr. Fogg, Fix, nor Aouda consented to leave the deck.

The storm of rain and wind descended upon them towards eight o’clock. With but its bit of sail, the “Tankadere” was lifted like a feather by a wind, an idea of whose violence can scarcely be given. To compare her speed to four times that of a locomotive going on full steam would be below the truth.

The boat scudded thus northward during the whole day, borne on by monstrous waves, preserving always, fortunately, a speed equal to theirs. Twenty times she seemed almost to be submerged by these mountains of water which rose behind her; but the adroit management of the pilot saved her. The passengers were often bathed in spray, but they submitted to it philosophically. Fix cursed it, no doubt; but Aouda, with her eyes fastened upon her protector, whose coolness amazed her, showed herself worthy of him, and bravely weathered the storm. As for Phileas Fogg, it seemed just as if the typhoon were a part of his programme.

Up to this time the “Tankadere” had always held her course to the north; but towards evening the wind, veering three quarters, bore down from the north-west. The boat, now lying in the trough of the waves, shook and rolled terribly; the sea struck her with fearful violence. At night the tempest increased in violence. John Bunsby saw the approach of darkness and the rising of the storm with dark misgivings. He thought awhile, and then asked his crew if it was not time to slacken speed. After a consultation he approached Mr. Fogg, and said, “I think, your honour, that we should do well to make for one of the ports on the coast.”

“I think so too.”

“Ah!” said the pilot. “But which one?”

“I know of but one,” returned Mr. Fogg tranquilly.

“And that is—”

“Shanghai.”

The pilot, at first, did not seem to comprehend; he could scarcely realise so much determination and tenacity. Then he cried, “Well—yes! Your honour is right. To Shanghai!”

So the “Tankadere” kept steadily on her northward track.

The night was really terrible; it would be a miracle if the craft did not founder. Twice it could have been all over with her if the crew had not been constantly on the watch. Aouda was exhausted, but did not utter a complaint. More than once Mr. Fogg rushed to protect her from the violence of the waves.

Day reappeared. The tempest still raged with undiminished fury; but the wind now returned to the south-east. It was a favourable change, and the “Tankadere” again bounded forward on this mountainous sea, though the waves crossed each other, and imparted shocks and counter-shocks which would have crushed a craft less solidly built. From time to time the coast was visible through the broken mist, but no vessel was in sight. The “Tankadere” was alone upon the sea.

There were some signs of a calm at noon, and these became more distinct as the sun descended toward the horizon. The tempest had been as brief as terrific. The passengers, thoroughly exhausted, could now eat a little, and take some repose.

The night was comparatively quiet. Some of the sails were again hoisted, and the speed of the boat was very good. The next morning at dawn they espied the coast, and John Bunsby was able to assert that they were not one hundred miles from Shanghai. A hundred miles, and only one day to traverse them! That very evening Mr. Fogg was due at Shanghai, if he did not wish to miss the steamer to Yokohama. Had there been no storm, during which several hours were lost, they would be at this moment within thirty miles of their destination.

The wind grew decidedly calmer, and happily the sea fell with it. All sails were now hoisted, and at noon the “Tankadere” was within forty-five miles of Shanghai. There remained yet six hours in which to accomplish that distance. All on board feared that it could not be done, and every one—Phileas Fogg, no doubt, excepted—felt his heart beat with impatience. The boat must keep up an average of nine miles an hour, and the wind was becoming calmer every moment! It was a capricious breeze, coming from the coast, and after it passed the sea became smooth. Still, the “Tankadere” was so light, and her fine sails caught the fickle zephyrs so well, that, with the aid of the currents John Bunsby found himself at six o’clock not more than ten miles from the mouth of Shanghai River. Shanghai itself is situated at least twelve miles up the stream. At seven they were still three miles from Shanghai. The pilot swore an angry oath; the reward of two hundred pounds was evidently on the point of escaping him. He looked at Mr. Fogg. Mr. Fogg was perfectly tranquil; and yet his whole fortune was at this moment at stake.

At this moment, also, a long black funnel, crowned with wreaths of smoke, appeared on the edge of the waters. It was the American steamer, leaving for Yokohama at the appointed time.

“Confound her!” cried John Bunsby, pushing back the rudder with a desperate jerk.

“Signal her!” said Phileas Fogg quietly.

A small brass cannon stood on the forward deck of the “Tankadere,” for making signals in the fogs. It was loaded to the muzzle; but just as the pilot was about to apply a red-hot coal to the touchhole, Mr. Fogg said, “Hoist your flag!”

The flag was run up at half-mast, and, this being the signal of distress, it was hoped that the American steamer, perceiving it, would change her course a little, so as to succour the pilot-boat.

“Fire!” said Mr. Fogg. And the booming of the little cannon resounded in the air.

#around the world in 80 days #jules verne

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girltravelfactor · 1 year

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Junk boats are a symbol of Hong Kong's maritime heritage and a popular attraction for visitors who want to experience the city from a different perspective. You can see Hong Kong junk boats sailing across the Victoria Harbour, offering scenic views of the skyline and the surrounding islands. You can also join a junk boat tour that will take you to various destinations, such as Lamma Island, Cheung Chau, Sai Kung, and more.

#asia #travel #hongkong #junkboat #victoriaharbour

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williamjone · 1 year

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Best Hong Kong Wakesurf water skiing

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Hong Kong, known for its bustling cityscape and vibrant culture, may not be the first destination that comes to mind for wakesurfing enthusiasts. However, nestled within its urban environment, this dynamic city offers a few hidden gems for those seeking a wakesurfing adventure.

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When you think of Hong Kong, skyscrapers, bustling streets, and vibrant city life may come to mind. However, hidden within this urban jungle lies a surprising water sports gem: wakesurfing. Despite its limited access to large bodies of water, Hong Kong offers unique opportunities for wakesurfing enthusiasts.

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Both wake surfing and waterskiing involve inherent risks, so it's essential to prioritize safety. Always wear a properly fitting life jacket or personal flotation device (PFD). Make sure the boat driver and spotters are experienced and follow boating safety rules. Communicate with hand signals or a two-way communication system to ensure clear communication while on the water. Additionally, warm up before hitting the water.

Wake surfing, a thrilling water sport that combines the freedom of surfing with the exhilaration of being towed behind a boat, has captured the hearts of water sports enthusiasts worldwide. With its emphasis on creativity, balance, and a connection to the water, wake surfing offers an unforgettable experience.

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Wake surfing has its roots in the 1960s when surfers began experimenting with riding the wake created by boats. Over the years, it has evolved into a distinct water sport with its own set of techniques and equipment. From the early days of using modified surfboards to the development of specialized wakesurfing boards, wake surfing has grown in popularity, attracting a diverse community of surfers and water sports enthusiasts.

Technique and Skills:

Wake surfing requires a unique set of techniques to ride the boat's wake successfully. Unlike traditional surfing, wake surfers start by being towed using a rope. Once they find their balance and position themselves on the wake, they release the rope and rely solely on the momentum of the wave. Balancing on the board and using subtle weight shifts, wake surfers can carve turns, perform tricks, and even ride the wave without holding onto anything, creating a sense of freedom and connection with the water.

Equipment:

The right equipment plays a crucial role in wake surfing. Specialized wakesurfing boards, typically shorter and thicker than traditional surfboards, provide buoyancy, stability, and maneuverability. These boards often have fins or other design features to enhance control and performance. Wake surfers also use a tow rope initially to get into position and can employ various accessories such as traction pads, fins, and wakesurf-specific ropes to enhance their experience.

Finding the Perfect Wake Surfing Spot:

To make the most of wake surfing, it's important to find the right location. Look for areas with calm waters and minimal boat traffic to ensure a safe and enjoyable experience. Lakes, reservoirs, and rivers with wide sections are popular choices. Many coastal areas and water sports centers also offer wake surfing opportunities. Check local regulations, permits, and any specific rules for wake surfing in the area.

Communicate effectively with the boat driver and spotter using hand signals or a two-way communication system.

Snowboarding emerged in the 1960s and 1970s when surfers sought ways to enjoy their passion during the winter months. Inspired by surfing and skateboarding, early snowboarders experimented with different designs and techniques, eventually developing the modern snowboard. Over the years, snowboarding evolved into a distinct sport, gaining popularity in snow resorts worldwide.

Equipment and Gear:

Snowboarding requires specialized equipment designed for the unique demands of the sport. Key components include:

Snowboard: The heart of snowboarding, the snowboard is a single board that allows riders to glide on the snow. Snowboards come in various shapes, sizes, and flex patterns to suit different riding styles and terrains.

Bindings: Bindings secure the rider's boots to the snowboard, providing control and stability. They come in different styles, including strap bindings and step-in bindings, and should be properly adjusted to ensure a comfortable and secure fit.

Boots: Snowboard boots are specifically designed to provide support, insulation, and flexibility. They should fit snugly and comfortably to maximize control and performance.

Protective Gear: Safety is paramount in snowboarding. Riders should wear a helmet to protect against head injuries and consider additional protective gear such as wrist guards, knee pads, and padded shorts.

Riding Techniques and Styles:

Snowboarding encompasses various riding techniques and styles, allowing riders to express their creativity and individuality on the slopes. Some popular techniques include:

Regular and Goofy Stance: Riders can adopt either a regular stance (left foot forward) or a goofy stance (right foot forward) based on their comfort and preference.

Carving: Carving involves using the edges of the snowboard to make smooth, precise turns, maintaining a fluid motion down the slope.

Jumps and Tricks: Snowboarding offers opportunities for jumps, grabs, spins, and tricks, allowing riders to showcase their skills and style in terrain parks and freestyle riding.

Choosing the Right Slopes:

When it comes to snowboarding choosing the right slopes is essential for an enjoyable experience. Consider the following factors:

Skill Level: Select slopes that match your skill level, from beginner-friendly runs to more challenging terrain for advanced riders.

Terrain: Look for slopes with varied terrain, including groomed runs, moguls, tree-lined trails, and terrain parks, to cater to your preferences and riding style.

Snow Conditions: Pay attention to the snow conditions, such as powder, packed snow, or icy surfaces, as they can impact your riding experience.

Observe the Mountain Code: Follow the rules and guidelines set by the resort or mountain, such as yielding to others, staying within marked boundaries, and respecting closures.

Ride Responsibly: Maintain control and ride within your ability level. Be aware of other riders and skiers on the slopes and avoid sudden stops or erratic maneuvers. Dress Appropriately: Layer your clothing to stay warm and dry, and use sunscreen to protect your skin from the sun's rays, which can be amplified by the snow.

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