FOR Prince Charles it was deja vu. He went to Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) in 1980 to give it back to the people. On Saturday he travelled to Hong Kong to return the territory the last substantial British possession to the Chinese.
The heir to the British throne came in a British Airways chartered Boeing 747, which diplomatically flew both the British and Chinese flags. The bubble upstairs was transformed into royal quarters, while important commoners were segregated into first class, such as the Foreign Secretary, Mr Robin Cook, his predecessor, Mr Douglas Hurd, and the former prime minister, Sir Edward Heath - who ignored everyone and read musical scores throughout the flight.
Among the VIPs in business class were two former Hong Kong governors, Lord MacLehose of Beoch and Lord Wilson of Tillyorn - and every Sinologist and Foreign Office official who dealt with Hong Kong, it seemed. Lord Howe, foreign secretary in 1984 when the British agreed to give Hong Kong hack, arrived earlier, as did Baroness Thatcher.
Lady Thatcher and her husband, Sir Denis, took up lodgings in the Mandarin Oriental Hotel, of which the writer Jan Morris wrote: "There are few institutions more pungently characteristic of fin d'empire Hong, Kong." For this weekend it was like an elite club for the English, with an eclectic selection of members including Mr John Cleese (of the funny walk), Sir David Frost, Sir Edward Heath and Mr Michael Heseltine.
The prince had his own lodgings on the royal yacht Britannia, moored beside HMS Chatham, which fired off a 21 gun salute when he arrived from the airport, making the royal personage jump in alarm.
They all gathered that evening for one of the last great acts of empire, the lowering of the flag at sunset on the roof of Government House, the two storey colonnaded mansion where 25 of Hong Kong's 28 governors resided.
It was a time for a stiff upper lip if only to hide the extraordinary antipathies simmering beneath the surface. The host, Governor Chris Patten, was bitterly attacked in interviews this week by the former British ambassador to China Sir, Percy Craddock for antagonising the Chinese by injecting democracy into the system after 150 years of doing without.
Lord MacLehose, governor in the 1970s, has been castigating the Democrats, whose leader, Mr Martin Lee, was among the guests, calling them "a small minority who make a lot of noise". And there's no love lost between the outgoing administration and Mr Francis Cornish, who will hold the fort as British consul when the Britannia leaves.
Much of the gossip was about who was going to the swearing in of the provisional legislature and who was not. Margaret Thatcher is not. Sir Percy Craddock most definitely is. Lord Howe has decided to attend.
Sir Edward caused a stir of his own when he was overheard referring to his new party leader, Mr William Hague, as a "disaster".
But when the police band played Amazing Grace and Abide with Me, it was a matter of stopping lips from trembling. The lights went out, leaving only a spotlight on the flag on top of Government House, which was lowered, for the last time, in a perfect tropical sunset, by two officers dressed in white tropical uniform.
A piper played Over the Hills to Skye. Mr Patten looked up, tears in his eyes. Prince Charles furrowed his brow, bit his lip, and did not even glance up as the flag was lowered. A steward then ran out with champagne and a choking governor toasted "The Queen", whose birthday it was.
The prince returned to Government House yesterday to confer the last honours on residents of the colony. They came up one by one to half kneel awkwardly on a black velvet cushion and receive the tap of the prince's sword.
Meanwhile, lesser British mortals were having a no less emotional but much rowdier time at the Last Night of the Proms at the Academy for Performing Arts. The hall was packed with people draped in Union Jacks, and sporting pith helmets and red, white and blue feather boas.
They waved flags and sang along to Elgar's Pomp and Circumstance and I Vow to Thee, My Country. They tried to put the conductor off during Henry Wood's Fantasia on British Sea Songs, and roared the words of Land of Hope and Glory. The actor Desmond Carrington rendered Noel Coward's Mad Dogs and Englishmen:
In Hong Kong
They strike a gong
And fire off a midday gun,
To reprimand each inmate,
Who's in late.
The midday gun, a Hotchkiss threepounder made in 1901, is fired each day in front of the Excelsior Hotel on Victoria Harbour. Rumour had it that the tradition would cease when the British leave, but the gun commemorates the real power in Hong Kong, the merchant house of Jardine, and it will keep firing.
In the second half of the concert came the moment of truth. The audience stood to sing For He's a Jolly Good Fellow to Mr Patten and his family and chant "We want Chris". But as they settled down, the Hong Kong Sinfonietta began to play the Chinese national anthem. A few shuffled to their feet, then others, until everyone, apart from three patriots making their last stand - or sit - for empire, was standing respectfully to attention. The king is dead. Long live the king.
Mr Patten's final public appearance yesterday was at Mass in Hong Kong Cathedral, where, he echoed the words of Deng Xiaoping that it is glorious to be rich. A staunch Catholic, he was given an icon of the Madonna and Child by the priest, Father John Tsang, as a farewell present.
Hong Kong was a great Chinese success story with British characteristics, and being rich was no crime, he said, quoting the Biblical parable of the three brothers sent out to the world, one of whom invested wisely and made a profit. "We very often talk about Hong Kong being a rich and prosperous society and actually, we are," he said. "We're rather good at making money.
Today the British will hold their final farewell banquet, which President Jiang Zemin and the Prime Minister, Mr Li Peng, had been expected to attend. Mr Cook said yesterday that China would be represented only by the Foreign Minister, Mr Qian Qichen.
"That's quite normal," he said. "I'm afraid I've become accustomed to the fact that it is the function of foreign secretaries to eat for the nation, and that's what Qian Qichen will be doing."
As Mr Cook dines for England, workmen will be busy dismantling the Queen Elizabeth monograms on the front gates of Government House. At midnight the Chinese communist flag will be hoisted. But it will fly over an empty building. Hong Kong's new leader, Mr Tung Cheehwa, has elected not to live there. It has badjung shui and the first thing he saw when making an inspection was a hearse. He will run Hong Kong from his office and live in his apartment on the hills above.