CHASING LIFE (6 page)

Chapter
8

No landmarks looked familiar, and Dave had no idea which way he’d come, so he walked in what felt like circles until his feet ached. In the end he was back where he started, up the stairs on Wyndham Street, wet and frustrated. Enough is enough, he decided. He searched for a place he could sit and relax. One more drink and a cigarette for the night, and back to the hotel room, he thought. A different species of human occupied this area: it was a well-dressed mixture of Europeans and locals. He stood out among the elegant women and suited men, not for being western but because of his shabby clothes.

The
venues were in modern decor and well stocked with expensive alcohol. This was clearly an upper-crust area catering to wealthy internationals. He decided to stop at a French bistro. Four attractive women with American accents occupied two tables outside. It surprised him at how busy it was, since it was only a Wednesday night. He ordered a beer at the bar and wandered outside to light a cigarette. He took a menu in his hand and glanced over it. The young professionals were obviously higher income earners, going by the price-list.

He
posed nonchalantly and threw glances across the table. He tested the waters for a response, but the girls didn’t bite—they were involved enough in their own company. The casually dressed stranger who looked like he’d been sweating profusely wasn’t even noticed. He finally resigned himself to drinking on his own.

At least h
e was undercover and drying up. His mind drifted to Julia. A smile formed on his face at the thought of her. She’d be with him if she were alive, right here having a laugh with him. He looked up at the sky and wondered if she were looking down. He tried to snap himself out of it. Thinking of Julia was trouble—once he’d start, the thoughts would go round in a circle, the same thing over and over. He made an effort to divert his attention to something else. A nice-looking guy was alone at a table nearby and Dave decided to give conversation another shot.

‘Does it ever stop raining here?’ Dave inquired.

‘It’s the monsoon season. Gets pretty soggy this time of the year,’ the man replied, affably enough.

‘It doesn’t seem to bother anyone much,’
Dave replied, relieved at not being snubbed, pointing at the crowded bars and restaurants across the street.

‘They’re used to it. That’s life here. When everyone’s wet, no one cares.’

Detecting the man’s Australian accent, Dave ventured a guess. ‘Melbourne or Sydney?’ he asked.

‘Sydney.
Yourself?’

‘Melbourne.’

‘Been here long?’

‘I got here a few hours ago. How about yourself?’

‘Ten minutes. Waiting for an order.’

‘No, I
mean . . . ’ Dave was flustered.

‘I’m joking
,’ the guy grinned. ‘I’ve been here five years now.’ He was handed a box of takeout food by one of the waiters. Another bistro staffer greeted him and they exchanged friendly words in French, shook hands and bid each other goodbye.

‘You speak French?’ Dave
asked once the staffer left.

‘I know a little. My parents are French. What are your plans for tonight?’

‘I don’t know, to be honest. I’m by myself and never been to Hong Kong before. What do you recommend?’ Dave asked.

‘Well, this is the business end of town. It’s cleaner and wealthier and you’ll find a nice crowd here,’ the guy pushed back his chair and started to stand. ‘Listen, I have to go to work. I run a club myself. It’s just down the road off this street and into a little lane. I’m meeting up with my girlfriend and some friends later. Since you’re by yourself, come in for a drink. If you want, we’ll go out together afterward.’

‘Thanks for the offer. I might do that
,’ Dave replied, pleased at the unexpected invitation. ‘What’s it called?’

‘The Base. It’s a little hard to find, but there’s a L
ebanese restaurant on that lane and the owner knows me. Tell him you’re looking for Sam from The Base.’ Sam pointed to a side street a few blocks up the road.

‘Will do. I’m Dave, by the way.’

‘Okay, Dave. I’ll see you later.’

The two men shook hands
and Sam departed with a confident stride, answering a call on his phone as he went. He was a head taller than Dave and dressed appropriately for a club owner—all in black, with a crisp shirt, leather jacket, jeans and boots. Most likely in his late twenties, Dave guessed. Sam had longish hair, a fashionable growth of stubble, soft eyes and fine but masculine facial features. He was a rather good specimen, going by the women’s admiring glances as he left the bistro. Dave felt very much intimidated, even though Sam had been so friendly.

The beer went down better this time
, and he went for a walk when he was done. He took his phone out and dialled Amy’s number.

‘Hello
, darling,’ his voice was chipper. ‘How are you?’

‘Dave! Hey, how was your flight?’
Amy’s voice came warmly over the phone.

‘It was good, yeah. How are you?
Good to hear your voice,’ he said, a little too excitedly.

‘You miss us already?’
she teased.

‘Yeah, a little.’

‘So, how’s Hong Kong?’ Amy asked.

‘Well, it’s okay
. Just checking it out.’

‘What’s it like? Tell me.’

‘At the moment, I’m in this place full of bars and restaurants. It’s pouring down rain and bloody humid. There are all these fashionably dressed people everywhere and I feel like a wet dog.’

‘An
d I bet you look like one too. Have you spoken to any of them?’

‘It’s hard
. They’re all clustered in their own little groups. It’s amazing Amy, there are hundreds of bars here. Very upmarket crowd. They look snobby though. It doesn’t feel like I’m in an Asian country, with so many Europeans, and everyone seems to speak English.’

‘S
tart talking to them,’ Amy encouraged.

‘I don’t know. I feel kind of awkward.’

‘Make an effort will you? Get amongst it.’

‘Yeah, I should.’
Dave wasn’t keen on sitting by himself again. He checked his watch. It was 10 in the evening. He wondered whether to take up Sam on his offer. He seemed like an interesting character, so why not have a drink and a chat?

‘You just got there. Go out and explore,’ Amy kept pushing.

‘I will. Anyway, I’ll call you later. I just wanted to say hi.’

‘Have fun
all right? And just relax.’

‘I will. Bye.’ Dave felt re
-energised. Hearing a friendly voice made him feel better. He turned and walked back up the road toward The Base nightclub.

              The rain was relentless but at least slowing in pace. He jumped across puddles again along the footpath and ducked for cover as much as he could, but his clothes were still wet. A turn in the street revealed the lane that Sam had mentioned. Dave went down a set of stairs where tightly packed shops and more restaurants bristled with nightlife. It was buzzing with neon signs and chaotic with disorderly building structures. He couldn’t make anything out of it. Was this another market?

Anything
there could be found on sale. From skinned and roasted ducks hanging in the open air to plastic toys, underwear, socks and fashion trinkets. He walked in another circle, fearing he’d lost his way again. He went up the road and back down and then stopped at the same spot he started from. He took a deep breath and tried to focus. Think man, he told himself. This time, he properly observed his surroundings. He was being distracted by everything going on around him instead of focussing on details. Must be a male thing, he thought. He could never find what he was looking for in the fridge. Julia would walk up to it and pluck it from under his nose—it was irritating.

A sweet scent from
nargile pipes was in the air and then Dave remembered the Lebanese restaurant that Sam had mentioned. He squinted and searched for the name amongst the many neon signs. Two middle-eastern men were smoking pipes outside a small restaurant nearby. He walked in and asked one of the waiters where The Base was.

The man pointed toward a small alley on the opposite side of the street. The alley was no more than two metr
es wide but well lit, snaking around the back of apartment buildings where residents hung their clothes out to dry. A cat darted out in front of Dave, and he heard people talking in the flats above him. Where the hell am I going? he asked himself. Overflowing bins emanated the smell of rotten food mixed with chemicals and detergents.

There was no one around. He looked
over his shoulder nervously but carried on anyway until he found what he was looking for, right at the end of the alley. A sign for The Base was lit up above a large black door with a red carpet leading to it. The front did indeed resemble an entrance to a club. He was familiar with this setting—Melbourne was renowned for its alley clubs—but he couldn’t help but feel a little apprehensive.

He
entered cautiously and walked down the steps that took him below into the building’s belly. He opened another door and dance music blasted out. The venue was quite large and decked out with red lounge chairs within spacious cubicles. Rhythmic lighting beamed toward a small dance floor in the middle. A well-fitted and expensive-looking bar awaited him on his left and a DJ was elevated in a boxed area above to the right, bopping his head to the beat. Dave couldn’t believe this gem was tucked away in a stinky alley.

When a
busboy greeted him, Dave asked for Sam.

‘
He’s in his office. I’ll let him know you’re here,’ the busboy said, and walked through the back of the club. Dave, realising he was the only patron in the club, sat at the bar and ordered a beer. The barman kept him company while he waited for Sam. He was around Dave’s age and more than happy to join him with a beer of his own. The alcohol loosened Dave up, and his clothes were drying at last. Sam came out of his office and joined in.

‘
I’m waiting for my guy in charge so I can leave him the keys. We’ll take off as soon as he comes. How about another drink?’ Sam indicated Dave’s nearly empty glass.

‘Sure, I’ll have the same.’
Sam instructed the barman for two of the same and Dave offered him a cigarette, lighting one up himself.

‘
Can we smoke in here?’ Dave forgot himself and felt embarrassed for lighting up.

‘Not really, but this is Hong Kong
, and I own the place,’ Sam said, taking the cigarette from Dave and shrugging.

‘
How did you end up here?’ Dave inquired. ‘It’s a pretty cool bar by the way.’

‘Thanks. I was an event organiser back
in Australia, and I was bored with it. I had enough with the whole industry—it gave me the shits. My sister came here, and she told me about life in Hong Kong. She said, “There’s this bar I like. But I can’t get in. Why don’t you come and get a job there, then I can get free entry?” I was looking for excitement at that time, something new. I felt stale in Sydney, and I needed to discover the world a little. So, I took off in search of something new. I had no idea where it would lead me but here I am.’ Sam smiled and lifted his glass.

‘Just like that?’

‘Yep. Dealing with people was my thing, and it felt natural. When I asked them for a job, they made me a barman. I’d never handled drinks in my life. I shit myself. I learnt everything on the job. A couple of years later I started promoting. I developed contacts, brought more customers and more money and then the owner offered me a partnership. I had money saved up, and I went for it. Five years have passed, and I’m still here.’

‘A risky
move.’ Dave was impressed.

‘Sometimes you have to take a risk if you want to get somewhere.’

‘It’s pretty quiet tonight I see.’

‘The crowd star
ts coming in after midnight. It’s Wednesday today, but you should see it on the weekend. You can’t move in here then. This is a members-only club. We’re strict about who gets in.’

‘It pays to know the owner,
’ Dave said and Sam grinned. ‘So how is life in Hong Kong? What is it about this place that made you stay?’

Sam looked down and creased his eyebrows
, as if the question required a carefully chosen response. ‘I have no plans on going back home anytime soon. There’s a lot of money to be made in Hong Kong, and I can enjoy life while making it. This isn’t one of the wealthiest cities in the world; this is
the
wealthiest city in the world. When
Forbes
magazine releases its rich list, I always laugh at how wrong they usually get it. There’s a plethora of millionaires right here.

‘
When the Chinese make money, they reinvest it to make more money. But that’s not visible on the surface. By looking around, you’d think they blow it all. It’s a highly conservative multi-layered society. It’s not easy for an outsider to understand the dynamics of Hong Kong culture. Even after five years, I’m still discovering the correct social norms. No matter how many generations a Westerner lives here, they’ll never be considered one of them. We’re only permanent citizens with a Hong Kong ID card. If you take a little time to look around, you’ll see what I mean. It’s not just monetary wealth I’m talking about.’ Sam’s eyes were serious. Dave could tell he knew what he was talking about.