
My mate, Charlie, had a few of us down to Hong Kong for a bit of a boys hunting weekend, replete with a case of red claret, a bottle of the King's Ginger and four pheasant drives (and one duck - separated with tea and a f-ing amazing lunch). If everyone hadn't been hungover and bruised from dinner, drinks and what by all accounts was a rather feisty game of freda (I'd passed out in my room by then), the birds might not have gotten off so well.