Small Morsels in Honkers
Good morning Hong Kong!
We're about to open our little shoebox of an AirBnB in Wan Chai.
Hong Kong, please don't let your cold gray outlook set the tone of our day. May our first steps in your light, be full of joy, however small. Please make a little space for us? Here we are, in one of the most densely populated countries in the world.
This morning we are on a mission across Victoria Harbour, from Hong Kong island to Kowloon. Our stomachs lead the way. Our journey is swift, in a taxi, the shortest way. Our hunger pangs have us circling the four corners of our destination. Tim Ho Wan, the Michelin star restaurant, where are you?
Our hunger is put to rest upon arrival, almost instantly. Small morsels of steaming deliciousness washed down with Chinese tea. The kind of nourishment that English can't quite describe and Math can't quite calculate. The cheque doesn't translate, Michelin star dining on a budget indeed.
While in Kowloon, we hit the markets, thanks to Hong Kong Precincts, the book we shipped ahead of our arrival. The flower markets and bird markets are equally as interesting, remarkably calming and quiet in this towering country. Grasshoppers anyone?
A hop, skip and a jump later. We find ourself above the Ritz Carlton hotel, at the tallest bar in the world, Ozone. 116 floors up, we certainly feel like we're in the skies. But with zero visibility through the cloudy grey haze, we could be on another planet for all we know. The futuristic interior certainly points to it. After a very smart G&T it's time to find another viewpoint.
We take to the Star Ferry to bring us back to earth, across Victoria Harbour, to Hong Kong Island, which is all lit up for our landing. The perfect viewpoint to cut through the clouds.
By now it's time to feast on more of what Hong Kong has to offer and we have stars on our mind. We take the advice of celebrity chef Anthony Bourdain and his show The Layover. His love of beer and meat is just what our stomachs are leading us towards. Fortunately his recommendation, Joy Hing, is close to home, has a Michelin star and offers the dining we're after to warm our bellies.
Here, there are no menus, English is a struggle, as is space. We end up sharing a table for two with a fellow meat-lover, we couldn't tell you his name as introductions in this in-and-out establishment are unnecessary. As we order meat, meat and more meat, the locals...from the adjacent table at least, help us out – a woman waving no and a gentleman translating that into a smaller order, enough for feasting foreigners rather than a feasting family.
After dinner another drink is in order, to cut through the grease and for us to meet up with Andrew. Given Randy is the man I'll grow old with and Andrew is the man I grew up with, this is a meeting of great men, myself included of course. Andrew, with his local knowledge and obligatory umbrella, leads us to Wooloomooloo. A great spot on a great day, perched on a rooftop. Though a little damp for this evening, so our festivities soon move to Andrew's local... I forget the name, but the conversation flowed as freely as the drinks. The perfect end to a gloomy day.
Goodnight Hong Kong and thanks for the many small morsels.
