The final leg of our Round the World adventure kicked off by taking a shuttle to the airport. We checked in with what seemed like a blonde Russian lady who had serious problems with the basics of the English language.

Getting out of New Zealand, however, is a lot less hassle than getting in, and we spent the time before checking in trying to spend our last NZ dollars, which, apart from 15 cents, we managed.

The flight was to last 11 hours, during which time the kid sitting next to me ate:
lunch, chocolate bars, noodles, more chocolate bars, sandwich, more chocolate bars, dinner and salty nuts. I'm sure he also singlehandedly polished off all the Coke on the plane. The stewardess was run off her feed just serving this little gluttonous tyrant.

We also seemed to be on a plane with babies determined to prove they could scream their head off for the full 11 hours, so we spent most of our time watching films, so that the headphones would drown out the sound a little.

At 8.40 local time, with nerves torn to shreds and atrophied muscles, we touched down at a hot and humid Hong Kong. Getting in was easy, you could have brandished a samurai sword and the customs officers wouldn't have batted an eyelid.

We made for the bus and the A21 took us to Tsim Sha Tsui, where the Lee Garden Guest House is. We made our way through the throngs of people, Keiron getting weighed down by our insanely heavy holdall.

We made it, sweating and annoyed, to the 8the floor and were welcomed by a tiny Chinese lady, who showed us to our room. That room is the size of a shoebox, with just enough room for a tiny person's double bed (my feet stick out when I stretch) and a bathroom which, in fact, doubles as the shower.

The views are splendid: pipes, airvents and dirty windows. But hey, it's home, and for HK standards, cheap and cheerful and quiet, apart from the generator outside, though we're in the centre of everything.

Anyway, we crawled in the too small bed and slept the sleep of the jetlagged.