Our man in Hong Kong sets the scene ahead of a glittering £12.5m race meeting on Sunday

IS this flight ever going to end?

It’s the only thought going through my mind as we enter hour nine of the journey from Heathrow to Hong Kong international airport.

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Racing is a hugely popular sport in Hong Kong[/caption]

I check the in-flight map in desperation, hoping the pilot has learned how to time travel.

For eff’s sake, we are still over Kazakhstan.

Mercifully, with little to no sleep and cattle class living up to its name (the people around me made every farmyard noise imaginable) the plane dropped through the clouds and we began to pass dozens of tiny green islands before touching down, 6,000 miles from home.

This isn’t a city for the faint-hearted.

It’s like London on speed — everyone is busy, busy, busy and they are trying to get from Point A to Point B as quickly as possible.

The walk from our hotel by Hong Kong harbour to Happy Valley racecourse takes about 20 minutes.

Despite the jet lag, I still have enough wits about me to hear the shout of a scaffolder and get myself out of the path of a huge bunch of bamboo being lowered onto the pavement.

He was speaking in Cantonese so I can’t imagine what he had to say about this daft foreigner was overly pleasant.

Am I the only one who finds it amazing, in this city of about six trillion skyscrapers, they use bamboo as scaffolding? What a game.

Hundreds of businessmen, still in suit and tie, are wandering up to the track from the financial district about half an hour before the first race on International Jockeys Challenge night.

It’s kind of comforting to know Ryan Moore is just as much of a curmudgeon here as he is back home. He posed in his ‘Team Britain’ branded blazer for a few pictures before whipping it off and dumping it as soon as he could.

Happy Valley is an incredible racecourse — the steep stands are hundreds of feet high and tower over the achingly-tight turf track which makes Chester look a piece of cake.

Mickael Barzalona won the jockey’s challenge, Hollie Doyle won a race, but I was first past the post in the ‘hitting the hay stakes’.

I passed out for six hours and was as fresh as paint for the first morning of track work at gigantic Sha Tin racecourse — the scene for tomorrow’s big international race day.

Starlust was one of the first to stretch his legs, under the watchful (and bleary) eye of Ralph Beckett, while a slightly more chipper Richard Fahey is pleased with Fergie’s Spirit Dancer.

There is no sign of Aidan O’Brien, mind, and we later find out he was sat on the tarmac for several hours at Heathrow before his flight was cancelled.

I’ve no idea where Ralph and Richard ended up on Thursday evening, but I can confidently say they wouldn’t have had nicer grub than me.

The excellent Chom Chom restaurant is perched on the side of a steep (that’s not doing it justice) hill. Apparently, when they have torrential rain storms here, you can’t leave the restaurant because the water rushes down off the mountains and turns the road into white water rapids.

But the toilets also overflow and the cockroaches rise up seeking dry ground… so I think I’d rather take my chances with the rapids.

Several members of His Majesty’s press corps disgrace themselves after too many Pine Mules — vodka, pineapple juice and ginger beer — but are quickly redeemed when turning up for track work on Friday morning after, in a few cases, 45 minutes of sleep.

Don’t let anyone tell you racing journalists aren’t the toughest of the tough.

A trip across the harbour on one of the famous green and white Star Ferry’s and a swanky gala dinner later, we find ourselves on the eve of the big Hong Kong International Races day, with £12.5 million up for grabs in just four Group 1s.

They’ve got the game by the cahoonas over here, and they know it. If you’re not careful, this city will have you by the cahoonas, too.

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