Golden Week 2017: Hong Kong

As we traded the west coast for the east and made our way further south on the lengthy drive to Narita, the weather gradually came to make us believe, that for the first time in months, it was ok to be outside in shorts.

Stepping off of the (incredibly budget) plane in Hong Kong, this was the only attire that it was acceptable to leave the blissfully air conditioned indoors in.

One flying tackle hug for a waiting Henry later and the two of us, Cari, Josh, Mengkin, Liam, Dave and Drew retreated to our respective accommodations for the night before explorations commenced the next morning.

Welcome to Golden week. A delightful section of the Japanese calendar that sees 3 or 4 public holidays fall in the same week.

Garden of the Stars

The first stop on our tour was an incredibly adventurous, much anticipated *drum roll* western breakfast. I don’t give a toss how sheltered it seems but one of the highlights of the trip was having proper breakfast and brunch food readily available – eggs benedict never tasted so good.

Henry and I spent the day trailing after the others in the group (minus Dave for the morning, who had had not dragged himself back to the B&B until 8.30am after a night out with an old friend). After we strolled through the overpasses scattered with cleaning ladies picnicking on flattened cardboard boxes on their day off we made it to the waterfront where I indulged on sitting on actual grass for the first time in months. We proceeded by following the Google maps pins that the others dropped us. In this manner we strolled through a lantern filled street, butchers with hunks of meat exposed to the humid spring air and poking fingers of potential buyers, Cherry Street Park, and a mango mochi stand. We caught up with them at a Pho restaurant which served amazing Vietnamese iced coffee (which I may have drunk my body weight in over the five days which we were there).

View from the roof top garden

Battling the heat and detours of a city that is apparently under constant construction, we made it to the garden of the stars.

Reuniting with the main group once again we made the most of Hong Kong’s lax drinking laws and found a roof top waterfront garden area to indulge in a couple of beers in the gradually sinking sun.

Dave’s friend Fab (ALT – Hong Kong equivalent) then introduced us to one of his local haunts, where for $12NZD each we were brought out plate after plate of food by the very chatty Mr Wong, and had free range over the beer filled trunk fridge.

That night we ventured out to the club district, an assortment of narrow streets lined bars clubs and one alley with tables decked out with shisha. We graced one that served a basket of unshelled peanuts, the boys saw to it that more ended up in each other’s drinks than their stomachs.

The way to Repulse Bay

After a slow start and an excruciatingly traffic jammed bus ride, we made it out to Repulse Bay for the first swim of the year (not including my frigid dip in Konoura earlier in the month). After a long anticipated swim we wandered round to the Tin Hau Temple, of the goddess of the sea who watches over sailors and those dwelling on the coast. The colours of the temple complex and beach scenery screamed summer.

Tin Hau Temple - Repulse Bay

While the bulk of the group ventured to the Temple Street night Markets, Henry, Drew and I embarked on the long trek up to Victoria Peak. The initial approach was made easy by an assorted of escalators, those however came to an end and my incredibly unexercised soon began to feel the burn in the humid, hot ascent.

Sunset - miles above the horizon

From the top we watched as the sun set into the clouds of smog, high above the horizon. Pro tip – skip the laser show on the harbour that all the websites rave about, it’s a load of bollocks. Though apparently one building having lights flashing up and down it (I’m still not convinced it wasn’t just a bunch of salary men flicking the lights in their offices on and off after hours…) was enough to warrant a mob of locals and tourists to piling onto the platform. Culture note: Japanese courtesy is second to none – Hong Kong was a wake-up call.

City-scape from Victoria Peak

Deciding that we were too drained (and my feet too sore) to brave the crowds and heat at the night markets, Henry and I ventured (post shower – I felt so sorry for the poor woman that had to stand next to me on the train after our wee toddle) down the road to a fusion French restaurant that offered a set course meal for two. I have never had melon draped in pastrami before but I can’t complain. The main of Duck breast was the most satisfying hunk of meat I have had in a long time and the 4 or-so course meal washed down with Iced Tea was the perfect wind down.

After our rather frustrating staggered and slow start the day prior, Henry and I took it upon ourselves to venture over to Macau ahead of the others, we forked out a little extra for ‘super class’ tickets for the Ferry to Macau, costing us $60NZD instead of $20 but saving us over an hour of waiting (meaning more time to explore) and being from a rather isolated little nation I don’t mind paying $60 for a  

View from Guia Fortress

                        one hour ferry to a different country. 

Upon our arrival we followed a haphazard Google maps route up to Guia Fortress, built during the 17^th Century, the fort was built during the defence of colonial Portuguese Macau from what was described as a ‘tentative invasion by the Dutch’. Upon learning this we realised why all official signs in Macau were written in both Chinese and Portuguese.

The Fort was home to a quaint lighthouse and small chapel, whose frescoes had been uncovered during restorations. The blend of Chinese and Western themes in the simple paintings was perhaps the most peculiar that I had witnessed inside a church, though had an air of humble pride in the small structure.

We returned to the waterfront, and the statue of Kun Iam, the goddess of mercy (who I have just confirmed is the Macau equivalent of the Japanese goddess Kannon).

Back on our feet we returned inland to visit Monte Fort and the Ruins of St Paul’s.

We passed through stalls on our hunt for (an very late) lunch and were handed samples of meat that had been crushed and dried into sheets and was rather sweet.

Ruins of St Paul's

After finally getting some food in us (the hangriness was started to get to both of us) we finally caught up with the others at Sky 21, a roof top bar where we indulged in the half price happy hour cocktails with live music playing gently in the background.

Wednesday commenced with breakfast at yet another Western Coffee Shop that (I’m assuming) Cari had managed to rustle up and a mocha which required a fudgeball of chocolate to be dropped in (from a great height in Mengkin’s case).

Well-fed and armed with cold bottled water Henry and I caught the MTR out to Diamond hill to visit the Nan Lian gardens and Chi Lin Nunnery.

Kun Iam

We returned to the hotel to wash a day’s worth of grime off of us (I believe we averaged about 3 showers a day…) before suiting up and heading out to dinner at the world’s cheapest Michelin star restaurant (specialising in Dim Sum) before a night at the races.

After Melbourne cup it was a much more casual affair, complete with jandles and naked beer bellies, though it was a real novelty to be able to get right up to the trackside.

This is where I broke.
After consecutive days spent mainly on my feet, and the humidity pressing down, my ankles, feet and hands were swollen and I managed to put my knee out – while seated. Needless to say I opted not to join the others for a night on the town and instead retreated to the hotel with Henry, a bottle of cold water and spicy chicken flavoured pringles.

With the others out for the count, we hit up the SoHo area for a western breakfast (which at 12.30 was really just lunch…) and proceeded to follow Google’s directions to a small market street where we chose stone name stamps to have our names carved into them. The genki gentleman who owned the store became quite chatty we weren’t just irritating tourists having a nosey and even darted across to his brother’s stall to fetch another stamp when we asked if he had another of one that we both liked.

Macau at Night

Next came the phrase that really slips ‘twixt the lips of the male species
‘can we go shopping?’
To H&M we trot.

Nan Lian Gardens

One recuperation iced coffee at Starbucks later and we continued on to the Levi’s store (yes I’m aware how horribly westernised our day was). Here we realised what an invaluable tool English is for even retail workers. Having not bothered to learn any Chinese before arriving (I stand by the fact that my pronunciation would have been incomprehensible anyway) we were totally dependent on other people’s English ability. As Henry pointed out – had the gentleman at Levi’s not spoken English, they would not have been able to find the jeans that Henry was after and therefore would have lost a sale (thanks to two useless gaijin).

It feels both privileged (and at times obnoxious) to be born into a language that is spoken globally. It also goes to show how far a smile will go.

Chi Lin Nunnery

Freshly showered and donning a new outfit each we caught the MTR back out to the garden of the stars area in search for dinner. The best meal during our time in Hong Kong began with a lobster salad, fried and spiced chicken skin skewers and skewers of cucumber, tomato and shrimp with grapefruit sauce and a main of smoked Salmon Pizza. I would whole heartedly recommend Quaver House, perfect for a couple of YoPros who wanted a nice dinner out but not to bankrupt themselves entirely.

Victoria Harbour

Reflective of our last night in Ueno, we walked down to the waterfront to take some long exposures of the harbour and buildings.

Saying goodbye is still shit.

But each time is slightly easier, less gut wrenching, and with renewed confidence.

End Golden Week, and our spring escape.