Hong Kong is a very comfortable sort of place. The city is not pretty. The architecture is not wowser amazing and I didn’t go into any of the famed parklands and explore the trails. I was there for less than 48 hours, the main purpose in going was to meet up with friends from Korea that I’d not seen in ages. I arrived Friday night and they were to arrive Saturday afternoon. Then I was to leave Sunday afternoon.
Not nearly enough time, but some was better than none.
I got into HK at 10pm. When I’d booked my ticket, I hadn’t read the fine print as, really, I never do. This was an unfortunate mistake as I was then unprepared to learn that I would be sitting in the very last row and not given anything to eat other than peanuts. It was only a two hour flight so the eating part didn’t bother me. But having to sit in the very last row, in a plane filled with people who simultaneously seem to firmly believe that if they don’t get off the plane RIGHT AWAY that it will take off again VERY SOON and they will be stuck flying somewhere else while also believing that they must take their own sweet time in collecting the million and one plastic bags full of…something… that they have brought on as carryon luggage. Due to knowing these habits, my desire to be seated as far forward as possible claws in my throat from the minute I enter the airport and check in. It is a common refrain for me when I check in, “Please seat me as far forward as possible”. Typically I’m at least in the first half. This time, because my flight was ‘no frills cheap!’, I was forced to the back. Even though the plane wasn’t full and I was willing to forfeit the meal. No. The guy at the check-in counter DID however tell me I was as beautiful as Kirsten Dunst. That’s almost as good as seated quick exit style.
The women seated next to me in loser row were in worse shape than I was. They were on their way to an evening out and so wanted to have a bit of a drink on the plane. Unfortunately, no frills also means no alcoholic beverages, which are typically free on an international flight. The flight attendant wouldn’t even let them buy a little drink. They then found the duty free catalog and in an inspired moment, decided to buy a bottle of jack and crack it open. Sadly they were thwarted when the flight attendant informed them that they would not be allowed to drink from the bottle, and in fact, not buy any bottles.
Landing in HK, I quickly went through immigration and tried to find the airport bus that would take me to Kowloon and my hostel. The instructions from the hostel told me which bus to get on and even which stop it would be. Stop 14. I’d also brought the address. The bus delightfully had a light board that surprisingly announced the first stop in both English and Chinese. Comforted by this that I would actually be able to find my stop, I ceased worrying (it was late, I’ve never been to HK and I like things as easy as possible when I first arrive to a place) and gazed out the window at the passing lights.
Of course, things are never that simple. When I glanced back at the lightboard to see what stop we were at, I noticed that the stops had ceased being announced and that the board in fact looked as though it had been turned off. I then realized that the pinging sound I had heard was that of the call for the bus to stop. Luckily I had grabbed a tourist street map at the airport and remembered to bring the address of the hostel. On an educated whim, I pushed the button to stop the bus and got off. Getting off, a man said Hello to me in heavily accented English. Hating to talk to strangers and so on, I tried to sidestep him. He then said my name and said he was from the hostel I had booked a room at and he had come to pick me up from the bus stop since I was getting in so late.
I was startled and more than pleasantly surprised. Especially as I realized that I would never have found the hostel on my own amid all of the flashing lights and people roaming around. It was tucked away in plain sight.
I had booked a single room. It had two beds, its own bathroom (complete with toilet shower), and cable tv. Very clean and neat and spartan. Perfect.
Waking up the next morning, I stepped out in search of breakfast. I love breakfast. Hot coffee with a bit of milk. Eggs. Toast. Fruit. Yum. I honestly had small hopes of finding good breakfast. Finding food in an unknown city can be more challenging than anticipated and especially american breakfast in Asia. However, in my wandering around, I located a Delifrance and had thick toast and egg with a strong cup of coffee. Replenished, I went in search of a park, the jade market, the flower market, and the bird market. I figured this would keep me occupied until my friends arrived.
Walking around unknown cities has to be one of my favorite things to do in the world. Everything is interesting because nothing is usual. You can see how people live, if they get out and enjoy their city and hang out in the parks or if everything is moving moving moving scurrying from one building to the other.
HK was all people all the time. The park was wonderful. Not pretty or picturesque, but full of people running and walking and swaying their arms in languid yet purposeful circles, listening to the mad beats burst from their boom boxes. Kowloon park reminded me of being in a habitrail.
The different markets–flower, bird, and goldfish–seemed to be actual markets where people actually shop for their own purposes. People were sauntering through the thick soup of humanity clutching large bouquets of chrysanthemums and pussy willows. The pussy willows were larger than any I’d seen and I wanted to rub their furry buds against my cheeks. The chrysanthemums were so large and waxy they seemed fake, and some of them had been dyed garish shades and green, blue and orange.
I kept stopping for coffee and hence had to keep stopping to find restrooms. Luckily for me, HK knows from providing relief to everyone because public toilets were never far away. I almost wonder if I didn’t keep stopping simply because I could.
Even with hours of walking and wandering, I still had some time before my friends were going to arrive. Right near the hotel that we were going to stay at as the HK Art Museum. They had beautiful exhibitions of traditional chinese paintings done by a modern artist with modern sensibilities. Puffy grey chicks peeping across the snowy paper, heading toward frogs with gaping mouths and googly eyes staring at a fish in the pond. In a different exhibition, an artist was being honored who had died ten years before. The retrospective included photos of his art hanging in people’s homes and in corporate waiting areas. The art in context of everyday life gave an entirely new perspective on the static pieces in front of you.
There was also an installation piece–an artist had set up an art studio within the museum and invited patrons to enter into the space with her, to learn about the artist process and to be part of the creation of the work. Her studio faced a wall of windows that looked onto the bay. Breathtaking.
I headed to the hotel to check in and wait for my friends. I’d just finished showering and drying my hair when they walked in. There are few things as lovely as hugging dear friends and catching up on the everyday details of life that get left out in emails and phone calls. We chatted and got ready to head out. We decided to head to Soho, where there are escalators climbing the mountain with stops at streets filled with shops and restaurants. After climbing the escalators the entire way up (and stopping briefly for me to buy a few leather boxes to hold my crap at home), we started walking down and stopped at a tapas restaurant for dinner. My god that food was amazing. We shared a tortilla, mushrooms, pork, scallops wrapped in bacon (for real, wrapped in bacon. awesome) and jalapenos stuffed with cheese. Also they brought fresh baked bread and a bowl of butter. My friend Jen was so impressed with the sight of so much butter she promptly tried to dip her bread in the butter rather than the more mundane scooping it up with a knife to spread. We feasted on the food and Jen and I split a jug of sangria and talked and ate and drank and made comparisons involving words like vulva.
We left with a recommendation as to a place to go for dessert. On our way to dessert, somehow the conversation took a turn toward how Allison can fit her fist in her mouth. She then proved it in a startling display of class and restraint. Jen proclaimed then proved that she could not. Intrigued I tried and found that I could! Proud evening for us, and I dare say a proud evening for HK as well.
After eating lovely cheesecake and chocolate cake and cappuccino and two glasses of shiraz, we made our way to the glorious clean and wonderful metro and on to the hotel. We stayed up a fair part of the evening and then drifted to sleep with full happy bellies and a bright eyed plan for the morning.
We started with a ridiculously large buffet breakfast at the hotel and then went to catch the ferry across the bay to HK Island. Our goal was to go to Victoria Peak. Ferry, bus, peak. Beautiful. Unfortunately it was rather fogged in, so you more had to imagine the view than actually appreciate it. But the tram ride up was quite fun and the ride back even more so as we were the only people in our car on the way back down. We then went super tourist cheesy time and rode on top of the open air bus on the way to the ferry. On our way out, we had passed a store with an adorable tea set with oxen painted on it to celebrate the new year. On the way back, we darted in there and I picked up a tea set and Allison and I both bought gorgeous stainless steel chopsticks. Time running short, we went to eat lunch then ice cream before I had to catch my plane.
That morning, Allison had told us a story about her grandma and her salty mouth. Her gran is reputedly charming yet likes to say rather inappropriate things to Allison. Allison had been getting ready to go out with her friends and dressed up super cute. She went to say goodbye to her gran who, on seeing Allison’s outfit, asked if she was going to go out like that. On hearing yes she said, you look disgusting. What will your friends say?
So we’re waiting for Allison to get her ice cream as Jen and I had already ordered and received our magical creamy icy delightful treats. Allison mentions how she is boring and always gets the same thing–cookie dough ice cream. Jen says, that’s so disgusting how boring you are. To which I add, you know what else is disgusting? Your outfit. How can you go out like that? Why don’t you think about what we think?
At which point the British girl who was quietly waiting in line glanced back at me clearly appalled.
We all busted out in peals of laughter and walked off with our cones. On the way to the hotel we agreed that next time, we’d try sincerely not to laugh when doing such appalling things again. Has a much better effect.
Tags: Hong Kong
