I’d an hour or so of daylight left. And an article to write for a Magistrates newsletter. Promised I’d put something together in Hong Kong. But first some research. By chance I’d ended up where another traveller had, quite inadvertently, spent the night in what appeared to be a house of ill-repute. Not my own truck stop lodgings, but in the same settlement. Question was, where?
I’d no idea what the Chinese characters might be for such an establishment, and in any case, I doubted it advertised. Probably didn’t need to. Word of mouth. Truth is, I’d a suspicion I’d spent one or two nights in a brothel over the last year. Quite innocently. Easily done, especially when it’s the only show in town for shelter, hidden behind the facade of a respectable, if cheap, hotel. Which I suppose it is if you’re a foreigner.
I drifted around the village for a while. A few candidates, but nothing overly convincing. Instead, I was left contemplating how Magistrates might look upon a defendant’s assertion that his presence on such premises was wholly accidental. Nothing more than a simple misunderstanding. Not favourably. I’d at least had the naivety of a substantial language barrier.
Tags: brothel, magistrates, Silk Roads
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