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Out on a high note

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THE news was, I admit, something of a bombshell. I arrived home early in the morning in an unfocused condition, flicked on the answering machine and waited for the usual cluster of messages.

And there it was: 'Hi Robin, this is Ric. I'm just ringing to let you know that Nita and I are leaving Hong Kong.' I sat down, poured myself a large scotch and tried to take this in. After all, how many symbols of stability do we have here? Even if nothing else stays the same Hong Kong will always have the Peak Tram, the Star Ferry and Ric Halstead playing the saxophone.

Not any more. Ric and his new bride are off to build a life Down Under.

I wrote my first story on Ric and his jazz activities 12 years ago and I've lost count of how many there have been since.

Ric arrived in Hong Kong in 1971 at the end of a journey that had taken him to what was once the Soviet Union, Turkey, Afghanistan, Pakistan, India, Malaysia and Singapore.

A science graduate from the University of East Anglia, he found a day job with a real estate company. In the evenings, however, he gravitated towards a pub in Tsim Sha Tsui called Ned Kelly's Last Stand.

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