From the South China Morning Post this week in 1973 The antics of Police Superintendent Peter Godber, the highest-ranking Hong Kong officer ever to be accused of large-scale graft, was exercising governor Sir Murray MacLehose considerably. Having just returned from discussions in London with foreign secretary Sir Alec Douglas-Home, he was trying to work out how the fugitive Godber, who had sneaked back to England to evade arrest here, could be extradited to the colony. Godber was wanted to explain how he had accumulated $4 million in assets when in his 22 years in the force he had not earned more than $770,000. Both British and Hong Kong laws needed to be changed to force Godber's return. The governor hinted at new anti-graft legislation that would take corruption investigations out of the hands of the police's anti-corruption office. There would be a new offensive to clean up corruption in the colony, the governor added. Godber's escape, it seemed, had exposed the true extent of the problem in Hong Kong. The ICAC was set up in February 1974 and Godber was its first major case and success - he was finally jailed for large-scale bribe-taking in 1975. Even on a small scale, complained 'Disillusioned' in his letter to the editor, corruption was an issue in Hong Kong. He had, he thought, booked a harbour tour by phone. He turned up early at Blake's Pier to collect and pay for the tickets, as instructed by the female phone booking clerk. 'Have you heard my voice on the phone before?' the attending male clerk demanded. Disillusioned replied no, he had spoken to a woman previously. 'Well then you don't have any seats booked on this tour,' he was told. He should have paid in advance, apparently, and now his only option was to wait for any no-shows. 'Meanwhile a party of four Caucasians arrived and suddenly the man was all attention,' wrote Disillusioned. 'One signed a cheque - so much for having to pay in advance.' He noticed the clerk also received a $10 note from the customer. 'I would not have minded the $10 to have smoothed things, but I had not realised that was the way matters stood in Hong Kong,' he lamented. Much had been made of the colony's 'Pearl of the Orient' tag, 'but essentials like good manners, honesty and consideration are lacking in this shopper's paradise', he concluded. Laws against sexual discrimination and other forms of bias were about to be introduced in Britain. Except for midwives, who must be female, new legislation would make it illegal to discriminate in employment, education or job advertisements. If adopted here, this would change many of the Post's less politically correct advertisements such as: 'Attractive European girls, required as waitresses (not hostesses) for Central District restaurant', or 'English conversation teacher with American accent required', never mind 'female quality controller', 'book keeper, female', 'clerk, male' and 'European waitresses wanted'. Then as now, rents were steep relative to salaries. A three-bedroom 1,300 sq ft flat at 51 Skyline Mansions, Conduit Road, Mid-Levels, with dining room, sitting room and servant's quarter, plus minibus service to Central was offered for $3,000 a month. An 'excellent seaview' 1,200 sq ft flat at Park Mansions, Tai Hang Drive, would set you back $3,200 a month. Magical get-thin-quick schemes were already popular. 'Lose up to 10 inches (25.4cm) in one hour!' was the unlikely claim of Joanne Drew alongside a full length bikini-clad sylph (pictured). Specialists promised to 'wrap you in bandages pre-soaked in a saline solution'. After an hour's nap 'when the bandages are removed - presto - you are actually slimmer'. And then the even more unlikely claim: 'The results last!' In a masterful piece of meaningless drivel, Time magazine was reported as saying: 'The effects last as long as the fatty tissue can be kept lean.' This could be a year ... but then reality intervened, 'with sensible dieting'.