Refreshed by six hours of real sleep after the sixteen hours upright in the plane, we were off to adventures in Hong Kong. Jonathan drove Karen, Jesse, and me to the university. There was a quick bit of professorial keyboard pounding, though the older metaphor for the academic-bureaucratic life, “paper shuffling” could just as well applied in Jonathan’s office.
I noticed that Jonathan’s office suite mate’s desk was empty and the computer equipment not set up. Jonathan explained that his suite met is a serious tobacco user and works entirely at home since the university is nonsmoking. He acknowledged that he had selected this guy exactly for his addiction. This struck me as a good sign that Jonathan is a bit more practical in his office politics than I might have thought.
With the keyboard thumping out of the way we went off in search of a haircut for me. I am not sure that Jonathaan did not lead us in a very round about path, I did recognize some of the markets in Mong Kok, but eventually we found ourselves outside a building where Jonathan pointed up to the second floor and indicated that he had had a haircut up there given by a one of a gaggle of old Chinese guys. Up we went. Jesse, who had been asleep in the stroller for fifteen minutes did not even awake for his trip up the stairs carried by his father (who will not be doing that very much longer. Jesse is a burgeoning kid). I had the most detailed haircut. Nothing like the usual jobs I endure at the Super Cuts of my domestic world. 
We then took a short walk to Langham Place, one of the innumerable huge malls that could gobble up even the most inveterate flaneur. This destination, he woke up for this stop, is home to Jesse’s miniature truck store. This expanding collection is fodder for his private story telling. Despite some urging by Jonathan to look around, he made his mind up very quickly and resolutely.
Following this purchase we made off to a Korean restaurant to meet up with Nan and Anna. The food was OK. The service inexorable. Jonathan suffered a near meltdown.
Kowloon Park beckoned with kids playground and ice cream. Black necked swans were a surprise.
By this time I was ready for a nap. Karen accompanied Jonathan and Jesse for a tennis lesson. Never too early to start learning to hit balls. I am waiting for the chance to bat a few with Jesse.
After my nap, the kids got fed and the adults were of to a night on the town. We’re returned to a beer hall, Fatts, in Mong Kok that we had visited on earlier visits. It features beer of course and the stalest peanuts ever served. The ambience was right and the company congenial. What’s not to like?
Dinner was found in the Chungking Mansion at the Sher-e Punjab restaurant on the second floor. We ate in the corridor with construction of a nearby stall underway. The food was very good. Spicy and definitely not served up for the watered down tourist palate, or even Central Sq. Cambridge.
After traversing north across LA on interstate 5, we continued on through the Tehachapi Mountains. The Tejon Pass at 4100 ft is the high point with a sharp descent down into the the San Joaquin Valley (the southern portion of the Central Valley that extends 400 miles to the north at Sacramento). 
agribusiness and empty land punctuated by regular signs of the water wars. Of course one can’t help but note the ironies of a business tha would not exist except for the enormous investments by state and Federal governments in water projects to convert what would otherwise be a sea of waving tumble weeds into fields of plants.
