How many people can say they've seen history being made? When what you see on television is the same as what you are watching through your window, you know that's what's happening.
So where else could I be on 30th June/1st July but in Hong Kong? And what better place to watch the festivities and general extravaganza than at the offices of Guinness on the thirty-somethingth floor of a harbour-front office block? It was a strange atmosphere - like New Year's Eve except that there seemed to be little to celebrate. At midnight, the assembled masses of Hong Kong Chinese watching a huge outdoor video screen 30 floors below sent up a massive cheer which drowned out the television coverage of the flag raising that was transfixing us high above. It seemed ironic that those with most to lose from the handover were celebrating whilst those of us with the luxury of a foreign passport looked on solemnly as Britannia sailed off to our right.
For the majority of people, life went on almost as usual. A four day public holiday filled the shops and tourist attractions to bursting and the summer rains came down oblivious to the occasion. The weather had threatened literally to put a damper on proceedings and on the night of the 30th the showers obliterated the view of Kowloon across the harbour. We were thankful not to be among the privileged few invited to the alfresco parade ground events. As we sipped our ice-cold Guinness, though, we did spare a thought for Prince Charles and Governor Patten as they received a thorough soaking. At least the rain masked the tears.
Most Hong Kongers had come better prepared for the elements: after all, all you had to do to check on the weather downtown was to switch on CNN, or any of the other eight channels that had been providing saturation coverage all week.
At ground level the event seemed less dramatic than it had on television and from our thirtieth floor eyrie. On July 1st it was impossible to tell that the past was a foreign country. The Brits were still there; Harry Ramsden's fish and chip shop and the Irish pub hadn't changed their menus; and there were no tanks patrolling the streets. It wasn't just another day in Hong Kong, however. It was a day when the quiet streets marked the transition from the Hong Kong handover to the Hong Kong hangover.
But the great Chinese take-away had happened and you'd never even know.
Copyright Nicholas White 1997