Chapter 2: Hong Kong (Part 3: 9th – 10th July)

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By this stage you can probably imagine that we were having the time of our lives. Hong Kong was officially on the list of places that we would return to in a heartbeat. To give you somewhat of an indication as to just how much fun we were having - we hadn’t left yet and Tori was already planning her next trip here in her head.

The 9th of July was our last full day in Hong Kong. By this stage we were at a point physically where we needed to rest - we had crammed so much in, eaten so much food and shopped like it was going out of style - we had pretty much made ourselves sick. Tori was a bit worse than Andrew so she opted to stay in bed all morning watching BBC World (Their slogan “Only slightly less repetitive than CNN”) while Andrew braved the streets of Hong Kong and the temperamental weather on his own to our local post office. We had some mail to send home.

This wasn’t your average postcard (although there were some of those too). You know how we have been raving on about the shopping in Hong Kong - how there are all sorts of fabulous bargains and unusual things, the exchange rate being so great and Tori’s addiction to plastic yum cha? Well, that takes up a lot of space - space we couldn’t afford to loose in our baggage so early on in our trip…

So having mastered the Hong Kong Postal Service, Andrew returned to the Salisbury; damp and triumphant… and most importantly, 10kg lighter. Oh yes - we posted home 10kgs worth of stuff. Only stuff we bought in Hong Kong. We didn’t buy anything that we didn’t eat or gamble with in Macau - and we only sent home what we bought that would fit (not all of it did either!) We didn’t even fit in anything that we had brought from home and regretted packing.

Many of you will know that while Tori and Drew do enjoy material things - and own a lot of them - they aren’t particularly fond of shopping for its own sake. Ten kilos therefore is a true testament to just how awesome Hong Kong is. Interesting side note(s): We could have bought ten times more things than we did (we were very, very restrained) and further we sent it all home in one MASSIVE box. So, in this public format, may we offer our most heartfelt apologies and genuine thanks to Rob and Liz who were the poor suckers that had to collect that box from the Post Office in Oatley West.

After our first genuinely relaxing, easy couple of hours in Hong Kong we decided that our time in the fair city should go out with a bang - or in this particular case - serious style and class. We hadn’t had breakfast or lunch because Tori was starting to feel like she was on a cruise ship. So around mid-afternoon, beginning to feel both peckish and wanting to make the most of it, we scrubbed up good - collar, closed-in shoes, pretty jacket and wandered the whole 20 metres next door.

Now, 20 metres isn’t normally a strenuous walk - but dressed in nice clothes; not thongs and a singlet and with the humidity working against you, 20 metres is a long way. So, sweating like we may have just run a marathon, we presented ourselves at the lobby to the most iconic and down right classy joint in Hong Kong - The Peninsula.

The Peninsula is to Hong Kong what the Raffles is to Singapore or Tiger Woods is to Golf. Institutions. (Well, Tiger Woods is more a person than an institution but you get the idea). The Peninsula is famous not only for its stunning architecture, iconic Rolls Royce Town Cars, beautiful rooms (with heavy-breathing price tags (even with generous exchange rates!)) and exquisite service but also its High Tea.

High Tea is seems particularly English, so enjoying it in the tropical mist of Hong Kong does seem somewhat bizarre. Considering however that Hong Kong is a former colony, it does make sense that you can get Cream Teas in Asia. The Peninsula, being synonymous with all things colonial, would consider it criminal not to offer it.

Colonial reminders as tangible as Peninsula High Tea do make you feel very surreal; it is like watching an Agatha Christie novel being played out, or a game of Cluedo, or even something as simple and sinister as Safari hats. Imagine Col. Mustard in the lobby with the cucumber sandwich and you get our drift.

It is a lovely experience however, and it is very easy to grow accustomed to the deliciously air-conditioned surrounds, enjoying a lazy afternoon sipping tea, eating cucumber sandwiches and chatting idly while poor suckers wander around in the sweltering heat outside. Although, eating scones with Devonshire clotted cream and Raspberry conserve is weird when the hum of Cantonese rather than English is the native tongue.

We decided to go ‘the whole hog’ as someone once derangedly put it, and ordered ‘The Peninsula’s Afternoon Tea’ for two people which featured the somewhat intimidating selection as follows;

‘A selection of finger sandwiches, savoury flaky pastry, quiche, mini French pastry, fruit tart, traditional tea cake, Valrhona chocolate ganache tartlet, premium Peninsula truffle, light tiramisu with green tea and crunchy hazelnut macaroon with freshly-baked raisin scones, Devonshire clotted cream and strawberry preserve, your choice of teas from The Peninsula Tea Collection.’ (A direct quote).

Well, how could you say no to that? We were particularly intrigued by ‘green tea tiramisu’, and at HK$398 (AUD$56) for two we decided to do some sleuthing (bring on the Cluedo!)

Well, what a delectable set of delights! Having ordered the Peninsula’s signature tea (‘Not half bad either’ - Tori, not a (black tea) drinker), we enjoyed a three tiered serving stand piled with tasty little morsels that angels had dreamt up, while an elegant quartet gently piped music in our direction. The tiny ‘ching’ noise of cutlery against fine china, soft classical music and the hum of chatter in such an elegant setting transported us to another world, the place where good holidays are made. The wait staff moved around the patrons with quiet efficiency, an amazing feat considering that the place was packed with people (maybe 100 people at any one time).

All of our afternoon tea was delicious - beautifully crafted, some items seemed too pretty to eat, but we overcame that problem with disturbing ease. For all of you foodies waiting on the edge of your seat, the green tea tiramisu was incredible - the sponge base, normally soaked to the eyeballs with coffee liqueur was delicately flavoured by sweet green tea - and it dyed the sponge base green! The cream was, as in all tiramisu, rich and well, creamy, and the topping of crunchy hazelnut macaroon brought the whole dessert together. Tori could have lived off that macaroon - yum!

Feeling particularly posh, we departed from the lobby, glowing with a sugary-sweet aura, stopping at the desk to collect a Peninsula Teddy-Bear as a souvenir and headed back into the din of post-colonial, 21st century Hong Kong. Given the elegant and luxurious treatment we had just received, we imagine that your next expectation would not be that we immediately made a mad-dash across the road, through the rain to collect a colourful sticker from what can only be described as a ‘Jackie Chan Emporium’, located along the Hong Kong ‘Avenue of the Stars’.

Let us explain… While we had been in Hong Kong, we had seen a lot of promotional posters for some kind of tourist ‘passport’, which encourages people to get out and see different sights in the city. Basically, you had to visit three different, specially marked outlets - ranging from tourist attractions such as The Peak to transport - the MTR or particular shops and visitor information stalls. At the attraction or whatever, you collect a pretty sticker to put in your ‘passport’. Once three stickers are collected, you can then proudly present it at any number of ‘Wing Wah Bakeries’ (home of the famous ‘Wing Wah Wife Cake’ (“that’s wife-beater cake actually” - Andrew, inanely), where you receive a little ‘gift’ - a tin containing some Chinese tea and tasty biscuits.

We hadn’t signed ourselves up to these shenanigans when we arrived, (we scoffed at such obvious tourist ploys!). When we were on the Peak, on the previous day however, we managed to get into conversation with a kindly Hong Kong Tourist Board lady, who gave us a passport each and our first stickers. She even worked out how we might get our second and third ones in the short time we had left. So, after all the elegance of The Peninsula, of course it appeared only natural to go scampering about like cheap twats in the rain just to score a cookies and tea. Of course - we did, with enthusiasm!

Our first stop was to the previously alluded ‘Jackie Chan Emporium’ - We suspect this is not its actual name, but it might as well have been. It basically was a small shop say, the size of someone’s kitchen, which stocked Jackie Chan memorabilia and what not. Of course, it had all the stuff you expect from a movie star - action figures, posters, movie stills, autographs. Then there was the stuff that was a little more ‘die-hard fan’ orientated - hats, t-shirts, mugs, lanyards and keyrings. Below this tier of commercialised crap, there was another, more dark, disturbing… may we suggest ‘sinister’ element - this was the stuff of stalkers and marketing mavericks - branding for the sake of branding… featuring such ‘Jackie Chan’ emblazoned products like beach towels, notebooks and stationary, cooking utensils, teatowels, wall clocks, foodstuffs, infants and kidswear; essentially things that come in ‘Homemaker Brand’ or similar at Kmart, simply because no-one cares what brand they are. How could anyone say no to a Jackie Chan sewing kit?

At the ‘Jackie Chan Emporium’ you could collect one of these stickers. So, being close, we went there - and it was a disturbing and we suppose, enlightening (?) experience. We didn’t buy anything - in spite of the temptation to get Jackie Chan emblazoned ski-jackets, and we made our escape fairly quickly. With only one sticker to go, we decided to take the easiest option and collect one from our local MTR. That being done with ease and less Jackie Chan, all we had left to do was to collect our gift. Wing Wah Bakeries, (“Home of the famous Wing Wah Wife(beater) Cake”) has multiple convenient locations - including a half-dozen airport locations. So, taking advantage of this somewhat unnecessary convenience, we decided to stop by at the airport the next morning. At this point, Tori would like to highlight the sheer improbability of anyone actually needing to get urgently to a Wing Wah Bakery either to or from the airport, especially at the departures lounge:

After checking in for his flight, a high-powered businessman begins to panic “Oh no for some completely improbable reason, I won’t be able to seal the deal in New York! It’s hopeless! What shall I ever do?” The man looks over from Customs and sees, glowing like his own knight in shining armour a ‘Wing Wah Bakery’ (The Hallelujah Chorus commences) “Ahh! Thank God! All will be well! Wing Wah Bakery, in a convenient international departure lounge location! The meeting will be a success!” (Cuts to a conference room with New York skyline in background), the man is shaking hands with another man, and a “Wing Wah Wife Beater Cake” is displayed proudly on the boardroom table”. Cue some stupid jingle about Mentos, the freshmaker.

Ok, so none of that exists or possibly makes sense, but that’s how Tori likes to think of the convenience of Wing Wah bakeries. She may be 10,000 miles away, but she is still a nut.

So, the proud bearers of a completed passport (closer than anyone actually gets to a completely full real passport too, we might add), we headed back to the Salisbury to pack and relax before our flight in the morning.

After a number of hours of patiently packing and repacking our bags to make everything fit, thankful that we had posted as much as we had, we found the day coming to a close, and despite the delicious high tea, in need of more food. We flicked through the Lonely Planet guide looking for inspiration and ease of location (i.e. we were lazy and didn’t want to walk far), but found ourselves wanting. We packed a little more, and eventually decided that it seemed rather appropriate to go full circle, so we got ready and headed out into the damp-hot night.

Walking back up Canton Road, admiring the neon adornments and dodging more would-be tailors, we reflected on our time in Hong Kong. We thought about what we would do again if we came back; (Everything except the Central Escalator) and what we would buy (more from the markets) and eat (more of everything) and how Macau and Hong Kong contrasted and compared.

As we headed upstairs to our table and sat down, we talked about the ‘in-town’ check in for the airport (still mysterious, somewhat), and how much money we needed to get a cab. It had been a great 9 days and we wouldn’t have done it differently. As we tucked into our noodles, dim sum and tea at Sweet Dynasty for the last time (on this trip anyway) we wondered how anywhere could possibly top Hong Kong. So, far nothing has (by-the-by). As we mulled over steamed vegetables we lamented that our Hong Kong adventure was at an end, but were grateful for the taster - we would be back.

We enjoyed the humid night air wandering back to the Salisbury. It seemed in the euphoria of our Hong Kong experience; nothing, not even pestering tailors could change our bittersweet mood. As we fell asleep back in our room for the last time, we couldn’t possibly have expected to have had such an intriguing experience leaving the country…

Waking at some kind of ungodly hour (there is a 6 o’clock in the morning??) on the 10th of July, we gathered our things and bid farewell to our home of the last 9 nights (it had been very good to us, the Salisbury). We headed downstairs and into the loading area of the hotel, where, even with the pale light, grey and somewhat foreboding clouds were preparing to be menacing and in spite of the early hour , the day was already setting a target for somewhere in the high billion degrees. A taxi was promptly flagged for us and with a slight tingling of familiarity, a tiny sedan that looked like it may have lost a number of fights with other cars, kerbs etc pulled up with a disturbingly chirpy driver.

Our cabbie pilled our belongings precariously into the boot and back and we climbed in, giving him our destination - Kowloon Station. Having investigated further, we could join the Airport line MTR there, being a major MTR station on the Kowloon peninsular. After quizzing us further, the eccentric chap decided he would try and ‘up-sell’ us…in a taxi…think “would you like fries with that” but with a driving service.

Andrew, conscious of both our holiday budget and our octopus card, had done the maths (almost down to the cent) for how much money we would need to get to the airport. He had been given an estimate (that turned out to be remarkably close to the actual cost) for a taxi fare to Kowloon, and the research done on the MTR website had told us how much we would need for the trip from Kowloon to the Airport. Still having some money left on the Octopus Card meant that we needed less cash for that portion of the trip as we just needed to top-up the card to just above the fare.

Now, you have to give it to the cabbie for trying. Obviously he has driven taxis for a while around Hong Kong and knew what he was talking about. However he hadn’t counted on us having planned our journey well. So he talked us through the costs - of this taxi trip, plus 2 tickets on the MTR to get to the airport say, HK$280 or so in total. Comparing that to the cost of getting his taxi all the way to the airport… a staggering roughly the same price - no more than a couple of Aussie dollars difference, but with the convenience of only one form of transport with our heavy, bulky bags.

This would have been a good proposition had we not already had a decent proportion of our remaining funds on the Octopus. Politely declining the offer only made him try even harder. You had to admire his persistence. He did not want to take no for an answer. As he kept repeating his offer and becoming increasing amazed that we only wanted to go to Kowloon, we started getting nervous…

Not really knowing the streets of our journey well, we began to worry that despite our requests he would take us to the airport anyway. Then what would we do? Pay him? We didn’t have that kind of cash. Not pay him? Well, that’s an idea.

It wasn’t until Andrew stopped him mid sales-pitch for the umpteen time and explained that while he was correct in terms of the cost and convenience, we wouldn’t have the money to pay for the trip he was suggesting. This thankfully proved to be the clincher. He conceded the loss, and carried on.

Arriving a few minutes later at Kowloon station - not the airport thankfully, our enthusiastic cabbie jumped out of the taxi and heaved our bags out. Paying him, we thanked him for his services and wished him a good day. As we prepared to leave him, something a little odd happened…

He hugged us. Yes, you read correctly, hugged. First a big, long squeezy hug for Tori (‘perhaps a little too long’ thought Andrew). Then, it was Andrew’s turn (nothing says love like a man hug). Somewhat startled by the whole experience, we smiled disconcertingly, and made a quick escape, scurrying into the station building, glancing back occasionally to ensure that he wasn’t following us, trying to again hug us or take us to the airport *shudders*.

Our attention, once we recovered from our taxi journey was turned to the In-Town Check-In counters, a mysterious beast. It is something wildly simple and logical, and therefore, as CityRail commuters, completely foreign and frightening. We decided that the process was too complex and scary to deal with and that we wouldn’t use them. Turns out that you can’t ‘not use them’.

So, with some trepidation, we approached the smiley lady at the Cathay Pacific Counter. MTR In-Town Check-In looks exactly like those counters you find in the airport, only that there was less of them, they are not spread across a vast terminal building and perhaps most significantly, we were at least 20 minutes train journey away from the nearest airport. In fact, we were on a totally different island to the airport. The process is as follows; you find the correct counter for your airline, and give them your travel documentation and the luggage you wish to check in. That luggage then goes along a conveyor belt, just like at the airport, and you do not see it again until you are in another country. You receive your boarding pass and then make your way along to the platform, to wait for a train to effortlessly glide you to the departures at the airport, where in a hop-skip-and-jump through immigration, you board your plane, hopefully with your cases stored securely in the same aircraft.

Farewelling our luggage was a very nerve-racking experience. Given the anxiety we felt getting to and from Macau, you can imagine that tension was high. If it went missing, we wouldn’t know until we were in another country. Now, we will spoil the surprise, and let you know, that we didn’t lose our luggage, and all was well. In retrospect, the whole process is brilliant. Given that it incorporates the MTR and Octopus (two of the finest things know to man) we probably shouldn’t have even questioned its ability. The bags were loaded onto the luggage part of the MTR and swiftly made their way to the airport with us much to our relief later in the day.

After our efficient and comfortable ride to the airport, we made our way through immigration, into the cavernous departures lounge. We had two goals now that we were here; find something to eat, with the remainder of our funds (not much) and track down a conveniently placed Wing Wah Bakery (Home of the famous Wing Wah Wife (Beater) Cake - try one today!).

First stop, with a little over HK$25 left, we grabbed a bite to eat. We perused the options - too expensive, weird, too expensive, duty free booze, too expensive, starblerks, too expensive, ah, Burger King. Brilliant.

Somehow, we managed to make our last 25 dollars work - we had a small feast. Which is no mean feat given that it works out to be about AUD$3.50. We enjoyed Croisanwich or something similarly mystifying - imagine a croissant that mated with a McMuffin and you essentially have it. We got sides of bite-sized chunks of hash-browns, and drinks (Coffee and Juice) and to top it all off, hotcakes with syrup to share. All for HK$25 - and we had no change whatsoever. It was the greatest feat of budgeting ever achieved. Take that Kochie.

So feeling triumphant, we headed forth into the plethora of shops, looking for our Wing Wah Bakery (ok, we won’t say it again). We found it, and being the only people in the shop we became overwhelmed with a sense of tight-arse. Making a token effort to look like we were interested in buying a wife-cake (which, we probably would, if we hadn’t spent all our money cleverly), we slowly, and as casually and unassumingly as we could, presented our passports to the cashier. On receiving our gift, we scurried out, ashamed that we had gone to all the trouble for such a poor ploy; a tea bag and a biscuit, in a little red tin. Still, it was fun adventure and we were technically still in Hong Kong, so it wasn’t all bad.

We grabbed a little bag trolley for our hand luggage, and piling our gifts aboard, headed out to our departure gate. We estimated that we would have to take the moving walkways, to save energy through the long, long, long terminal building (poorest excuse ever), and so as our final hurrah and fitting testament to Hong Kong and all its convenient and awesome glory took 12 incredibly long and slow travelators to our gate, bypassing smokers rooms (glass cubes with a strange haze) and more duty free shops.

We got to our gate and Tori peered out to look at our plane (also to visually confirm it was a Boeing). It was pouring with rain and it took sometime for the 747 to come into focus in the mist. On confirmation that it was a Boeing, Tori resumed her seat in the lounge next to Andrew, waiting for the boarding announcement.

We waited and waited and waited. And then, we waited some more. Finally, we were allowed to board the plane. We found our incredibly squishy and uncomfortable seats, and settled back for our flight. Then we waited some more. And some more and finally some more.

After more than an hour of delays, in which no one told us what was going on, the plane began to taxi and we were able to actually settle back and enjoy the reputed excellent service of Cathay Pacific on our flight to Tokyo.

Little did we know that our first mistake was assuming that Cathay Pacific’s excellent reputation was legitimate…

Our awesome holiday in Hong Kong was over.

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