Drifting through Hong Kong: Achieving Little, Spending Dollars

It had been around ten years since I last visited Hong Kong, and that was in the Bengal-schooled protective embrace of my family, The Mondals. There was little that I recalled from that tour, only flashes of Temple Street Night Market, a relaxing boat cruise and vague recollections of the hum of the traffic which came to mind when arousing the fickle backdrop of memory lane. I was hardly expecting such a polar opposite to Vietnam as the neon lights and businessmen surged past and around me in volumes that were at first disorientating. It was interesting to find myself not being harassed by any of the hawkers and tailors, as they opted to hound the middle aged Western folk to feign interest in their tattered cloth empire. I am lying at the lonely summit of the tourist molehill as I watch passers by look convincingly through shimmering glass displays in the possibility of purchasing opulently bejewelled wrist watches and intrusively lensed cameras.


I'd been feeling rather off and so this drink seemed perfect

My weathered maroon taxi threw me out at the infamous Chung King Mansions in Kowloon Island, where I had booked my hostel. I presumed with such an elegant title that these Mansions would accommodate the very wealthy at very reasonable online rates. I of course was mistaken as the concrete block, which would not be found out of place in the dirge lined pits of Stockwell near my old home in Clapham, London, greeted me with a looming menace. The Kowloon Hostel itself is as a whole rather grey bar the threads of fading graffiti on the walls, though the staff are amiable and smiley, if not slightly muted. I've dubbed my room 'The Coffin'. Sleeping in my room is like lying in a seven foot George Foreman Grill. It's certainly lean and also mean. It did cross my mind to host a hostel party to see if I could fit another person in the room, but no one returned the R.S.V.P. slip at the bottom of my colourful invitation. There's a sliver of light that manages to penetrate through a crease on the heavy wooden door in my room. However, this light, not being natural, adds a certain sense of claustrophobia once the key is locked and all you can hear is the stuttering rumble of the water pipes as they bicker to one another throughout the night.


Almost puts me off seafood...almost

With time on my hands, I visited the South of Kowloon Island to venture into the remarkably clean and angular buildings housing the Cultural House, Hong Kong Art Museum and the Space Museum. Ensuring that no one I knew was in close proximity, I bought a ticket to the Space Museum's planetarium to view a wonderful film; Mummies: Secrets of the Pharaohs. I was close to dozing off on numerous occasions due to the reclining soft chair and the low bass sultry narration from a man who sounded distinctly like the late Oliver Reed after a warm brandy. As the credits rolled diligently, the Chinese kids and myself were in awe at how the secret of mummification had still not been unravelled by modern scientists. Afterwards, I visited the Intercontinental Hotel's Lounge Lobby to watch the sun collapse over the harbour and the staff were kind enough to realise that I could not afford even a small tonic water in such palatial surroundings, and so let me be, hidden behind a dusty pillar next to the grotesquely burly piano player.



As Hong Kong is immensely expensive (similar to that of London but I had a job there so it didn't bruise my wallet as much) I have conceded to a mixed diet that would make a hobo blush. I no longer wish to judge a man who finds solace in reading a book (Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, by Hunter S. Thompson, to guarantee distance from any passers by) on the hardy beige seats of a McDonald's whilst sacrificing his athletic build in favour of a hot fudge sundae. The local bakeries have also made a great increase in sales thanks to my purchasing of cheap and crusty pork buns to keep my car running.



Hong Kong Island: Day and Night



A close friend of mine had instructed me to take the Peak Tram, whose route is of a quizzical gradient up to the Victoria Peak, some 1400 metres above sea level, making way for a blustery panoramic view of Hong Kong Island. My friend, who I can only presume had sinister intentions, did not inform me that the tram and scenic Sky View Terrace would trigger my meticulous vertigo. Fortunately my camera has 'SteadyShot' technology, ensuring that the resultant photographs look to have been taken by an able and confident individual.

So long then to Hong Kong, with its grandiose and modernistic architecture. Shanghai awaits, but not after a twenty hour train journey which I am sure will be both smooth and entertaining.

Hong Kong Song of the Day: Ja Rule featuring Ashanti - Always On Time
Whatever happened to the shy and misunderstood Ja Rule? I thought he was going to be the next Jay-Z, but he let us all down. Well, you'll be pleased to hear that he recently ended his long running feud with his former Def Jam label mate DMX, which is progress indeed. Delaney's Irish Pub provided this piece of magic as I nursed a Diet Coke, watching enviously at groups of people enjoying their Friday night, whilst I looked forward to a night in The Coffin.

i-Pod Song of the Day: Muse - Undisclosed Desires
I lost faith in the first single from The Resistance, but the Timbaland / R&B inspired hook of their follow up has reeled me in like a dirty shirt.

http://www.myspace.com/muse