Richard Peters -in the Sai Kung Country Park

The Terrors of Shek Uk Shan

The real beauty about living in the Country Park is that it's all but a step outside. I have daily access to the hills, valleys and streams some only glimpse on the odd free weekend. Whilst I merrily gloat, I must confess that I haven't been absolutely everywhere this side of the barrier just yet, but I am getting around to it...

Names of places are still a bit of a problem for me. Let's face it, Chinese names are tricky unless one takes the trouble to work out the translation ('shan' = hill, ok that bit's easy) then the two or three characters are meaningless and the Anglicisations sometimes even-more confusing.

The Country Park is a great place to follow a path and get lost, which is fine if that is your intention. A few years ago, a young policeman disappeared into the hills never to be seen again. I later found evidence of a camp that had been made on one of the saddles high between two peaks where the occupants had left paper Bank of Hell money to flutter away in the breeze. As with many of those who disappear in the wild places of Hong Kong, his remains were never found and I suppose this was the searcher's way of signing off their task, saying their spiritual goodbyes and ensuring the angry dead wouldn't come back to haunt them.

I like to take a few pics of walkies with the little dawgies. They get so excited to be out here and never know if the bush will hide a mad wild pig, terrified snake, fluttering quail or merely someone's left lunch. Ever the opportunists, their time is spent snuffling out the unexpected and show a childlike (puppylike?) fascination for the new.

Shek Uk Shan is a hill/mountain I last ascended with Buster and Batty more than three years ago. They were non-too impressed with the view then, but from the top there is a pretty good 360° vantage point of a sizeable chunk of the New Territories from beneath the transmitter masts. For some reason the whole place is lit up like a Christmas tree at night (security?).

Of course, the overcast and polluted winter weather obscures much of the landscape. This is always a pity. When the air in the territory is clear (i.e. the summer) Hong Kong is one of the best places on the planet to live.

There are always truly fantastic things to see. Brenda thinks I'm mad, but I get very excited spotting a new flower, tree or leaf form. The variety here is astonishing and I long ago realised there was something new and unique out there on EACH walk.

I decided to come down off the empty hills (I met only two other people) and the unabashed self-indulgence of having the landscape as my own. I never put the dogs on the lead whilst out -they need their freedom too.

Descending the river valley the terrible twosome (Squid and Barka) drank from the stream and ran merrily into the scrub surrounding the mature eucalyptus woods. Little Ronnie and I continued down to the pool and waited: no sign of the other two there. I continued further down to the road: no sign. I assumed they had gone on ahead, but they were not at home.

We waited an hour or so and then Ronnie and I went back up to the place they were last seen and I called for them. It was getting dark. I called again and again. No response -not even a sense that I was being heard. Young Ronnie wasn't bothered: in her evil Machiavellian mind this was just the kind of fortune that favours the bold...

I had to meet Brenda and friends in Sai Kung for dinner, but I left the house worried: If Barka is spooked by a hollerin', radio-blaring troop of Kowloon's Finest Pensioners, then he'll be back wimpering at the door within half an hour. Dark and dangerous doggy scenarios entered my mind -had they met the Fearsome Python of Pak Sha O, the Mountain Boar of Tai Tan, the evil Witch-Dogs of Pak Tam Au or the Monstrous Leopard Cat of Hoi Ha?

Although they were not back by midnight, I vowed to get out at first light and look for traces. A fitful sleep ensued, but I needn't have worried: Dinah heard some scrabbling at the door at 4.20 am -it was the cheeky wanderers back from their derring-dos. No sign of injury, distress or even concern!

Such are your best friends: you may worry about them and care for their every step. They may get lost and found, may go wandering and come back again in the wee small hours, but you still love them.

Bloody Teachers and their holidays

Here we are, betwixt Christmas and Chinese New Year (CNY). For those of us East of Suez this is a somewhat short work period (usually about four weeks) between lovely holidays. For those in Chinese employ there is an immanent CNY break. We, in the English Schools Foundation, have but one week, those in local schools two. Ah, for teachers their holidays never seem far away...

I know, I know -those of you in real work will most likely be rolling your eyes, tutting at the prospect of lazy teachers getting yet another week's paid holiday and possibly fuming at increasing fees and decreasing standards. All I can say is, if you can stand the heat, don't mind a cap on your salaries and like the idea of some extended breaks throughout the year then teaching might be just for you.

In a recent Guardian story, "teachers in schools in England and Wales are still working "unacceptably" long hours despite a national agreement to reduce their workload." Amplify this somewhat and you get the picture of teaching here in Hong Kong. Admittedly we do not have classroom behavioural problems within ESF schools, but many colleagues will be working each evening, over the weekend and during holidays. High-achieving students bring their own demanding problems. No-one stops at the mythical 3.20 end-of-the-school-day, although work may be postponed until later. In addition, many of our working days may consist of 5 one-hour stand-up teaching lessons, sometimes before unwilling and (God-forbid unappreciative) audiences where your communication technique is as important as your subject matter. You can't stop and have a break when you flag. I have known some in other industries positively wet their pants at delivering a mumbled 15-minute PowerPoint!

So the prospect of a few perks, such as three major holidays in the year, are not simply welcomed, they're bloody well necessary! Bring it on: Phuket beckons...