Howdy There, Hong Kong
It’s going to be a quick stop in an expensive-to-stay-in city. I’m only here pretty much through the weekend, but I’ve always wanted to visit, ever since reading James Clavel’s books Noble House and Tai-pan back in the fabulous 70s. I suppose a bit has changed since the setting of Noble House, but the taxicabs are still red.
My trip started out really well. I’d scheduled a Grab ride for 0400 because I had a 0630 international flight. After the 3-hour torturous event leaving Nepal, I didn’t know how long it would be to (a) get to the airport, even early in the morning, (b) how long it would take to get through immigration and security, and (c) get to the plane itself. I didn’t think we’d be standing on the tarmac under the wing for 25 minutes like in Nepal, but one never knows…
And, I’d never scheduled a Grab ahead of time before, and 0400 is pretty early. I’d had bad experiences with ride hailing (again, in Nepal), and I’d accounted for a little time in case my driver didn’t show, and I’d need to make alternate arrangements. I’d have preferred taking the subway, but it didn’t commence service until 0530, and that was just not enough time.
It turned out that all my fears were groundless (funny term when talking about flying, eh?). My Grab driver was early. She’d been working the Bruno Mars concert and was pretty happy with her night. I hopped in at 0345 and we were off. Start the timer.
Okay, there is no timer, but I did check my watch after getting through all the machinations one must traverse to fly these days, and was getting a coffee. 0425. It took all of 35 minutes to get from hotel door to coffee — inside the secure zone. Hell, it took nearly that long to walk to the gate with my coffee. Singapore Terminal 4 is long, and has virtually no people-movers (I don’t use them, anyway.) The walk inside the terminal was a kilometer. That’s a big building.
We boarded and started taxiing just as the sun was beginning to put on a show in the east.
The flight was uneventful, and most folks slept. I wish I had. I’d awakened at midnight and that was that for sleep for me. On the bright side, the market was open and I sold some MNMD covered calls, so yay, balance?
Anywhoodles, it was a fun bumpy descent through the clouds so there wasn’t much to see until we cleared the clouds that were really low in the sky. Sadly, my angle of view was not of the better parts of the city. Actually, I don’t know that for sure, since I didn’t see the other side. We landed from the southwest, and the airport is west of the city proper, so there might not have been much to see out the starboard either. I think the video is pointed towards Macau though.
Getting out of the airport was a cinch. Security was a small card I had to fill out, and a 5 minute wait. I just walked past customs. The signage is in Chinese and English, so getting to the subway was not difficult either. Buy my ticket with my credit card, and off I go. That’s were the hiccups began.
Oh, nothing serious, just normal travel shit. But running on 3 hours of sleep, they combined to be annoying. No worries exiting the train into Kowloon station. Now, according to both Google Maps and Rome2Rio (most excellent app), I just have to exit the station, and walk about .6 km to the hotel. Cool. Um. About exiting the station… It’s a freaking maze of shopping. Reminiscent of a casino floor where they don’t want you to see outside or anything but the games, the station had no windows, winding and curved walks surrounded on all sides by stores. Some pretty nice ones too. (28 carat matching emerald earrings in one display. No price, though. If you have to ask, you can’t afford them.)
I resorted to using the compass on my watch to figure out where to go, and don’t get me started on the levels. I probably changed up and down four times before I was on a level to exit to the street. Google maps shows my path down a closed-for-construction street. Nicely done. I continue in the general direction of my hotel by dead reckoning instead. By the time I get to the hotel (on the 6th floor of a semi-decrepit looking building), nearly 90 minutes have elapsed since getting off the train. I’m a sweaty mess. And no one’s there. I push the call button, and get someone eventually. They’re on their way. About 20 minutes later, I finally get inside the hotel itself. Apparently, my room is not in this hotel, I’ve been traded to another for a cornerback and a third round draft pick. And my room there isn’t available yet. Here’s where it gets annoying.
The people (person?) in the room I’m getting has been given a late checkout. No problem, right? Late checkout is 12 or 1 instead of 11, right? Wrong. These chucklefucks aren’t leaving until 8pm. What. The. Fuck. Because they don’t have a flight until late evening, I’m put out of the room I paid for until 9pm? I have to cool my heels for nine hours before I can settle in? At least the woman who was tasked with telling me this (she’s the one who also cleans the rooms) was pleasant and let me park in a temporary room so I could at least change out of travel clothes. It really didn’t annoy me until about 7pm, when I was really finally tired, and just wanted to take a shower and fall into bed.
Meanwhile, I found a restaurant to get some dinner. I picked a place that was close by, and had English on the menu. I asked for a spicy chicken and rice dish. It wasn’t bad, but as in many of the countries here, cutting the chicken is just random whacking with a cleaver. Bones everywhere, even small, shattered ones. I think I’m going to avoid chicken for awhile and get my protein another way. Another thing I’ve noticed over the last few months — what do these restaurants have against napkins? They not only aren’t on the table, they don’t give you any with your food? I’ve taken to bringing tissues along with me. Messy fingers happen when pulling bones out. And soup slurps around the mouth are a thing too. I’m unsure what the locals do. I’ll have to watch and see. Maybe they’re all just that much better and cleaner eaters than I am.
Food was decent, and I go to pay the bill. I indicate I would like to pay with my credit card. I’m only here a few days, it’s a major cosmopolitan city, I didn’t think I’d need cash. I was wrong. This place only took cash, and some weird local payment system called Octopus. The woman behind the counter didn’t speak English, and my Chinese consists of “thank you.”
After much gesticulating, and the intervention of another staff member, I left my Kindle hostage as I went back to my (temporary) room, to get my ATM card, locate a machine and get cash. What a PITA. The uptake is now I’ll be paying everywhere with cash, since the machine only spat out $500 HK notes. (Exchange rate is about 8:1 HK —>US.)
I finally, finally! get to the room a bit past 9 pm. Time to take a shower and go to bed. It’s a tight squeeze in the bathroom to shower: the entirety of the bathroom is smaller than some showers: 56" x 27" (1.4 x .7 meters). Yep that’s the size of the whole shebang for the toilet, sink and shower. No showering with a friend in this place.
Unfortunately, the view from my room isn’t as good as the one from the temporary room where I took the time lapses. But the internet access is amazeballs (329 down and 297 up), it is generally quiet…except for the conversations taking place outside my door at 2330. Garland was right: Cantonese is basically all shouting.
Be kind and take care of yourselves. If you can, care for someone else, too.
Slang, out.