That number is said to be the answer to the ultimate question, but the destination board below it glowed eerily devoid of information, like almost all of the others in the terminal.
There was something reminiscent of the approach to the Restaurant at the End of the Universe in the Hitchikers Guide to the Galaxy in the atmosphere. Except that the restaurant was closed, along with almost every commercial concession in the Hong Kong Airport. They weren't just closed for the short term either. They had disappeared entirely.
No more cheery rows of complimentary internet computers and phone charging racks, no more noodle bars or food of any kind. No more water at the water drinking station either come to mention it.
It’s a huge airport, and we are used to seeing it packed with bustling crowds all coming and going from somewhere to somewhere else, but not tonight.
The huge noticeboards with their half dozen columns of bright red flight number and departure times were large black reminders of what things once were, with not enough flights passing through to even fill one column, which made a certain amount of sense given the number of moth-balled aircraft we'd passed taxi-ing to the terminal.
Curiously, every one of the personel we encountered, from the usually surly security guards to the perpetually smiling counter staff were friendly, enthusiastic, helpful and really doing their best to remind us that we don't need electricity to bring light into the world.
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