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Published: August 27th 2008
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Piece of Junk.
Traditional fishing boat trundles into the harbour to offload it's catch. So after nearly six weeks of living off chocolate danishes, bananas and Subway rolls it's time to start heading home.
I left the rest of the posse at the hitching spot in Wanaka as they headed up to the Snowpark to ride with the Japanese pro team. It had snowed the night before and as I dragged my bags into town to catch my bus to Christchurch airport, the clouds disappeared and the sun came out. Lucky, lucky buggers.
The flight from Christchurch to Auckland went smoothly - no weather problems this time, and eleven hours later the plane lands in the sea (anyone who's been to Hong Kong will understand). And as soon as I step out of the airport I realise that wearing a hoodie, a beanie, and a snowboarding jacket was a big mistake.
Within ten minutes of being exposed to thirty degree heat and one hundred percent humidity the sweat starts to drip off the end of my nose. I had to catch a train to Hong Kong Central, and then another to the district of Wan Chai to get to my hotel which suddenly seemed a horribly long way. The trains themselves were
The city.
A deceptively quiet main road in Hong Kong. Two hours later and you couldn't see the road for the traffic. air conditioned so the journey itself was fine. It was the wandering around between connections, asking directions, and hiking up and down stairs that proved hard work, especially after an eleven hour flight.
Eventually I arrive at Wan Chai metro station and study the damp remains of my map. The hotel, the lovely lovely air conditioned luxury hotel, seemed to be about four blocks away so I should just make it with the small amount of moisture I had left in my body. But after about three hundred yards I realised the numbers on the buildings were going up instead of down - I was going the wrong way. I actually thought I would pass out.
Through my dying haze I spotted a guy selling fresh fruit juice across the road. With one last effort, with my hoodie and snowboard jacket hanging off me as if I'd just been thrown in a lake, I stagger into him, drop my bags and gesture to a picture of an orange and then to my mouth. The indifferent Chinese guy squeezed the juice out of half a dozen oranges and before he could place a little straw in the cup I
Public transport.
These old rickety trams serviced the area right by hotel. Cheap and convenient, but always packed. downed it. And it was wonderful.
I handed the guy a ten dollar bill, (about 70p), and dragged my bags back up the road. And after what seemed like an age I finally arrived at my hotel. After a few more minutes of checking in and persuading the staff I was OK, I found myself in my air conditioned room watching the olympics.
For the next few days I wandered along the raised walkways of Hong Kong staring at the tops of the buildings with my mouth open.
It's an incredible place, the glass buildings creating a sort of infinity mirror, endlessly reflecting brightly lit skyscrapers. I suppose I could've done more during my stay - rode the ferry to explore Kowloon, caught the train to see the big Buddha on thingy island. But I decided to simply wander the streets and parks, watching tiny ladies scurry from shop to shop under little parosols, office workers doing Tai Chi on their lunch breaks, and shop owners lighting little fires on the pavements as the sun set.
And the food! Oh God the food - I seemed to be constantly snacking on noodles and spring onion soup,
Shop fires.
If anyone can tell me why shop owners light little fires at the end of each day I'd love to know! washing it all down with freshly squeezed orange juice. And then in the evening I played sushi roulette. I had no idea what I was ordering, but whatever emerged I had to eat. Most of the time I breathed a sigh of relief as smoked eel or raw scallops arrived. But I did draw the line at a live sea urchin once. I couldn't face killing it slowly with my digestive juices.
The evening before my flight home I headed up to Victoria Park, a viewing area high up on a hill over looking the harbour. I found a quiet spot away from the crowds, popped open the beer I'd stored in my pocket and stared out into the night.
Just a few days earlier I'd been riding a snowboard in the remote mountains of New Zealand, and now here I was with a hot breeze on my face gazing at the incredible light show of Hong Kong harbour below me. I have a lot to thank that plank of wood for. And then all of a sudden I feel quite sorry for it, zipped up in a big dark bag, surrounded by smelly thermals. So I filled
Thursday night footie.
The sports field in Wanchai fills as the surrounding offices empty. my lungs, raised my beer high in the general direction of my hotel and actually toasted my snowboard. Aloud.
As I'm glugging down my Asahi I glance to the right and notice a group of Chinese tourists now surrounding me. There's a small pop as the bottle leaves my mouth, and after a sheepish bow and a confused "how did that get there" glance at my beer, I stepped down off the viewing platform and disappeared into the earth.
The next morning I woke up to discover my flight was leaving in half an hour. But by now I'd become a wandering nomad who doesn't really give a crap. So I let out a small sigh, phone reception, book another night's accommodation, and then go back to sleep.
Two days later and I'm finally back at Heathrow airport, to a world of grey skies and traffic cones, and to an extra £150 a month in Mortgage payments apparently. It's as if I've never been away. But as I open the front door to my parents' house I'm greeted by the most amazing smells of home cooking. Snowboarding around the world is the life I've chosen for the
Victoria Park.
Rammed with tourists but with good reason. The view of Hong Kong harbour below was spectacular. foreseeable future, but there's nothing quite like coming home.
As I write this my two year old nephew has stumbled into the room with a puzzled look on his face.
"Uncle Pauly, where's your snowboard?" he says.
"In that big bag mate." I say. "Do you want to do some snowboarding Will?"
He nods like he's unsure but all kids look like that.
"Come on then bud, I think my jacket's around here somewhere too..."
And off we go to relive my New Zealand experiences.
Laps.
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