In my twenties I would hightail it to the Captain’s Bar with my friends in the hope there’d be a lock-in and the Mandarin Oriental would have to put us up for the night. Nowadays I suspect my kids would get a bit upset if I took off, so we hunker down and pray the TV doesn’t blow. During the last typhoon my children put on their ski suits and ran around the garden, diving onto the grass to aquaplane along the flooded lawn. The following Christmas in Switzerland
they looked rather strange in ski suits covered in grass stains.