We awoke to three very curious and considerate second cousins alternatively peering at us, whispering around us, and just trying to get on with their Saturday morning breakfast routine. It was so lovely to be with people that we knew again, especially family. It was really nice to get to know Dino, Edwin, Ethan, Mark (good name) and Reilly better, as we had only met briefly before. They live in a lovely area of Kowloon, close to the University. Dino took us for a fantastic yum cha lunch, although she did decide to spill half of it down herself before we tucked in. I blame the people who joined our table for crowding us. We took a walk round the area, and jumped on a bus down to Sai Kung. On the bus journey Dino shared with us that she really hates the English. I’m still hopeful that she didn’t include me in that! In the end I realised that she meant the expats who move to Hong Kong, and still think of it as a colony and treat the locals disparagingly. On that subject, I can agree wholeheartedly with her.
I was expecting all of Hong Kong to be a sprawling metropolis, with high rise buildings everywhere. Kowloon was a really lovely surprise. It’s on the peninsular across the bay from Hong Kong Island. There is greenery everywhere, hills for trekking around, smaller islands to take boat trips too, and beautiful sandy beaches. Sai Kung is a small town on the water front, where you can buy seafood fresh out of the water from boats moored in the harbour, and we walked from there along the coast. It was a beautiful sunny day to enjoy the scenery. Of course, we had to stop and have a beer, where we began to notice a theme that continued throughout the weekend. Everybody seems to have a dog, and most people dress them up. Some are in T-shirts – not so bad. But one poor unfortunate was dressed up in a Britney Spears outfit circa the “Hit Me Baby One More Time” era. I only hope that it was a female dog.
After the early afternoon beer I needed a nap. Yes, it’s getting to be that way. So we headed back for a few hours, and headed out in the evening to Hong Kong Island. It was a clear night, and we headed up Victoria Mountain, or The Peak, on the first funicular train to be opened in Asia, in 1888. Hopefully it has been upgraded a few times since. Half way up The Peak is Middle Hill. There are sets of escalators running up and down to the residents who live there. It’s most bizarre. Mark made the point that if you leave in the morning and get half way down the escalator before realising that you’ve forgotten something, you’re in a bit of a pickle. You would have to go all the way to the bottom before you could ascend again, and vice versa when you’re heading back up in the evening.
The ascent on the funicular is so steep, that at some points it feels as if gravity is not in control anymore. All of the buildings that you go past seem to be at an angle, when in reality the train is. At the top there are shops, bars and restaurants (all hugely overpriced – we settled for a coffee), and the most stunning views across the city. We were lucky to have a clear night, and we could see all the way across to Kowloon Bay.
After queuing for what felt like hours (it was once a British colony after all, and some things do stick), we headed back down again, and across the bay on the ferry, where Dino treated us to first class seats. She’s so posh lah. Then we jumped on the MTR to Mong Kok. When you come out the MTR it’s as if you’ve stepped into daylight, it’s so bright! Lights, shops and market stalls everywhere – wah what a sight! We walked through all the market stalls, which sold everything under the sun in terms of ladies clothing and soft goods, and electronics. We then went to one of Dino’s favourite haunts for dinner – delicious Chinese food washed down with Party Beer. That’s actually the brand name. Love it. Unfortunately time had run away with us, so the market was closing down by the time we finished eating. But that’s probably for the best in terms of our budget.
We grabbed a taxi back to Dino’s. Taxi drivers seem to have about seven mobile phones attached to their dashboards. And they can be grumpy if you’re not going as far as they would like the fare to go. Joy of joys, the Man U vs Aston Villa game was on. Dino told me that she loves watching Man U games, not because she supports any team, but because she hates Man U so much. When they lose, no matter what the time, she calls her Mum, and avid Man U fan, and laughs down the phone to her. I was keen to do the same, but unfortunately it turned out to be a loss for Villa. Good old relegation specialist Alex Mcgleish.
After a quick sleep, owing to the football being on until 3.30am, Mark and I managed to rouse ourselves sufficiently to head out and take a ferry to Macau, an old Portuguese colony, that we were given to understand was now basically an island of casinos, rivalling Las Vegas. Would we dare try to double our travelling and wedding budget? We would not. We’re too sensible/chicken. We probably spent more time on the ferries and in customs than on Macau itself, but it’s a small enough place to get around in a short space of time.
It’s a fantastic mixture of European and Chinese, from the small alleys covered in Chinese advertisements, to the street name plaques in a very European style of white and blue tiling, with names such as “Rua de Xangai”, also spelt out in Chinese characters. The biggest shock was the huge golden casino and hotel called the Sands Macau that dominates the skyline from wherever you may be. If you can ignore that and all the other casinos, and walk off the beaten track a little, you can soon discover the more traditional Macau, which is very charming, with small side streets and steep walks up hills to overlook the island. It being the run up to Christmas, there were decorations everywhere, and even a nativity scene in one of the squares. The most amazing remnant of the Portuguese colony was the ruins of St Pauls Cathedral, where only the façade remains, but you are still able to imagine how magnificent the whole building would once have been.
When we got back to Hong Kong Island we walked through Central. This area is populated with high end fashion stores, and on a Sunday it’s filled with Hong Kong hired help in all shapes and sizes, enjoying their weekly day off. There are thousands of them who hang out with family and friends, play games, relax, and sing and play instruments. Because most help is live in, they don’t have their own places that they can invite people round to, so this is their hang out time and space to catch up with people. We made our way through the throng, enjoying the vibrancy and life that it brings to what I would imagine is usually a very staid area, reserved for those that have so much money that they don’t readily show emotion.
We met Dino and Edwin at Lan Kwai Fong MTR, to go and celebrate our impending nuptials. We started off with another delicious meal, a fantastic mixture of Chinese delicacies, before heading off for a few drinks. We were happily drinking and chatting when suddenly there was a loud commotion, and a very drunken Ang Mo staggered into the front of the bar and fell at the foot of the front table. Cue much screaming from the young girls sitting there. He was soon dragged out by the bar staff and chucked into the street, only to repeat this remarkable Sunday night activity in the next-door bar. Cue the biggest excitement in the area since time began. Fifty policemen with questionable hair styles (leading us to believe that they had all been called from their beds expressly to deal with this wayward whitey) descended on the area, cordoned off the bar the guy had fallen into, and then took a great deal of time to remove him from the premises and restore order. Not before we had all had a good gander at what was happening, and had seen him sprawled on the floor with at least five officers sitting on him, or otherwise restraining him. We all thought it was a great laugh, but did at least feel a little sorry for how he was going to feel when he woke up with the worst hangover in the police cells.
After this brief interlude, we headed to watch a Pink Floyd tribute band. The covers bands that we had seen in Asia up to this point had ranged from the ridiculous to the downright tone deaf. But this group were amazing. The guitarist could easily have rivalled Dave Gilmour, and the rest of them were none too shabby either. We ended our fantastic Hong Kong night out on a high, pleasantly drunk.
On the downside, Mark and I had to catch a taxi to the airport at 8.30am the next morning. It was with heavy hangovers and heavy hearts that we bade farewell to the hospitality, friendship and love that we had enjoyed, and that had been fostered over a single weekend. We winged our way to the airport, had some quite unpalatable food to try to get us over the worst of the booze blues, and settled in to nap, until it was again, Singapore time!