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British voice of approval

David Phair

With some people it is their physical presence that makes an impression, with Michael Buerk it's his voice.

Turn away your head and, certainly to most Brits, the resonant and measured tones of his delivery are as familiar as 'This is London' heralding the World Service radio news.

In another era, perhaps, he wouldn't have been out of place in the former colonial administration's government offices.

'I went to one of those minor public schools where the whole ethos was to provide people to run places like Hong Kong,' he says.

For millions in Britain, he is the news in his role anchoring the 9pm BBC-TV news bulletin.

Buerk reported on events in South Africa. Then there was the mid-1980s famine in Ethiopia.

It was an emotionally shattered Buerk, 51, who first brought the pictures of starving millions into the living rooms of the well-fed West, leading to a huge international relief operation that included the Band Aid concert.

So it seems ironic that, while Buerk was in Hong Kong in an official capacity to cover the handover, we met to talk about food.

He looked upbeat, and indeed had every reason to be. Word is that the BBC's coverage of the handover pipped arch-rival Independent Television News (ITN) to the post.

In a cut-throat news environment like Britain's, this is critical. The BBC's studio at the Academy for Performing Arts was shipped out tailor-made from the northern England resort of Blackpool.

Poor old ITN apparently broadcast from under a canopy on the Mandarin Oriental's roof. 'For the first part all you got was the noise of the rain,' said Buerk, chuckling. 'Then there was this terrible wind that got up and apparently their man had to take off his glasses and clean them so he could read the Autocue.

'It's most uncharitable but our feelings of triumph were sharpened by this schadenfreude.' At home, Buerk doesn't usually leave for work until about 11am, so his eating schedule is set back about four hours.

Indeed, he always sits down for dinner with his wife, Christine, after getting home at about 10.30pm.

When we made arrangements to meet, I had asked Buerk where he would like to go. 'Somewhere ethnic,' he replied, saying he was an adventurous eater. An interesting sentiment, but it didn't help narrow the options.

We agreed on the Grand Hyatt's One Harbour Road Chinese restaurant for no other reason than its proximity to his hotel.

Here was a man who clearly enjoyed his food, scanning the menu efficiently, mulling choices with care.

Both of us chose crab and sweet corn soup ($70) to start with. 'Very good,' he said. I added some seasoning to bring out the flavour of the crab and felt more of the elusive crustacean would have been appreciated.

The roast pigeon with spicy salt ($140) was turned to perfection. Pungent and crisp, it practically melted in our mouths and received the thumbs up from Buerk.

But it was the Sichuan camphor-tea smoked duck with rice-flour blinis ($180) - 'I'm really intrigued by it' - that won his most heartfelt praise.

'Wow. This camphor tea gives it a really interesting flavour,' Buerk said, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. The mingling of the camphor and smoky flavours tempered what can be rather rich meat, which on this occasion, thankfully, was grease-free.

Sadly, the sauteed Sichuan chilli shrimps glazed with crab roe ($220) disappointed. We expected fireballs and were rewarded with sweat-free foreheads.

'I thought the whole point of Sichuan food was that you approached it as you would the People's Liberation Army,' Buerk ventured.

Inevitably, I asked him for the high point of his career, half-wondering whether the handover might be it. 'Oh no,' he said. 'I was in Africa in the 1980s . . . and there was the coverage of the Ethiopian famine.' But he added: 'There is that element of feeling really privileged to be in Hong Kong.

'Just the fact this great monument to capitalism has been handed back to this communist dictatorship.' He particularly enjoyed the Last Night of the Proms concerts - tickets secured through his guanxi in Britain. 'It's very Hong Kong, isn't it,' he said.

'They really cranked up the concert. All they wanted to do was Land of Hope and Glory and Rule Britannia. They didn't seem to realise these concerts are actually very serious.' Then there was the story he did on the 212 weddings at just three registry offices conducted on June 29, regarded as one of the most auspicious days in the Chinese calendar.

'I'd never seen anything like it. I interviewed one girl who said she wanted to get the Crown on her marriage certificate.

'I said: 'Oh, you want a souvenir of British rule' and she replied: 'Oh no, if I get broke I can sell it.' ' I asked him where he had been at the stroke of midnight on handover night. In that most colonial of bastions - the Royal Hong Kong Yacht Club - as it happens.

'There was a mixture of pragmatism and sentiment when the flag actually came down.' And how, as a Briton, did he feel about the handover? 'I feel the decline of the British Empire has been a backdrop to my entire life. As a foreign correspondent, I seemed to spend most of my time covering the debacles of former colonies.

'Hong Kong is the last serious colony so I suppose it's a fitting conclusion.' Time for a quick dessert - almond bean curd ($25) and coconut pudding ($20) - which proved both light and refreshing.

The total bill came to $1,300, including service and tea but excluding drinks. We wound up our chat. He admitted to missing the days of being on the road as a roving reporter.

'I can remember going to Belfast and taking just a change of clothes. I ended up staying there for 2.5 months, then went on to El Salvador and Chile.' However, the upside to being an anchor is that it allows him to mould a complete news bulletin.

'It has its other compensations, too,' he paused, twinkle in eye. 'Like better money and being recognised.' One Harbour Road, Grand Hyatt, Wan Chai. Tel: 2588-1234

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