Two months after my arrival, Ted Bucco and I moved into a single-story concrete hut at the top of a hill, the other side of Yung Shue Wan.
It was fortunate because when Tropical Storm Helen blew in we would not get flooded; though we might be buried under a .
The streets leading to the hut were concrete channels two person wide, and by the time the 5th bell had rung to stop all the ferries, the drains were clogged and all routes home were fast-flowing rivers of rain.
Ted and I had congregated at the Island Bar, but the sandbags had not prevented the flooding, and the floor was ankle-deep from the surge; but beer and a dart board were still available so basic rations were not an issue, we joked.
The End
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二十九. Hong Kong Handover