Are you a Mark?

There's something oddly satisfying about waking up hungover only to discover that there there's a Typhoon Level 8 battering down the city. Not satisfying in the sense that people's lives are at risk, but satisfying that I have no agenda. Two typhoons hitting Hong Kong in one week. Typhoon Hato, a T10 followed by Typhoon Pakhar, a T8 four days later. Given the severity of the previous typhoon it was decided that I would not leave the apartment. Not today.

An evening at Taz. A hen's party. A mission to find somebody called Mark. It's the second last weekend before school starts. About to kiss goodbye to my social life I roll over and message the Australian with the thick accent on Instagram. When did people stop getting phone numbers?

Typhoon #1

That feeling, when you wake up on a weekday and there's an observatory warning to stay indoors. Typhoon Hato was hands down the worse typhoon that I have experienced in Hong Kong. Incessant howling of the wind, the perpetual clattering of debris and an endless stream of social media updates: Fallen trees, flooded walk ways and the window cleaner trolley. The T10 signal lasted for the majority of the day, only to be lowered after 6 pm.

Learnt something about Typhoon naming conventions with all the spare time at home. Boy, need to get out of this apartment, I'm starting to get cabin fever.