My Hong Kong Anniversary Pt. 1
0 Comments Published by DICEY on Sunday, September 04, 2005 at 7:39 PM.
When yesterday morning greeted me with a sudden cramp in my calf I could not help but wonder if it was an omen: My first cramp in Hong Kong on my first year anniversary.
How fast time passes by. I'm living in Hong Kong for a year now. That had to be celebrated. But how?
Should I buy a blueberry cheesecake from Starbucks, stick a candle in it, drive to the Peak in Central, light the candle, blow it out and yell: "Congratulations shorty"?
That would be funny especially with all the tourists around.
Japanese tourist boy: "Mum, why is the woman talking to the cake?
Japanese tourist mum: "Probably a local custom, Akira-kun," crams in her bag and pulls out a Nikon D50. "Now be a good boy and go over to her so I can take a picture."
Son obeys and poses with 'victory'-sign.
Yep funny, but did not fit my mood. I felt like reminiscing, smoking a nice waterpipe and have delicious food for lunch. I could do all that in Tsim Sha Tsui, for many reasons one of favourite places in Hong Kong. So I dolled myself up a little and off I went.
Waiting at the MTR (aka Underground) station I received a call from my Kar-Leung in Germany. I figured that it must be around 6:30 a.m. there. Accordingly Kar-Leung's voice still sounded sleepy. The first thing he did was apologizing for not being able to celebrate with me.
I once told him that he's spoiling me with all that kindness and attention thingy,-readjusting my level of expectations and making it difficult to start relationships with other men in case ours would not work out. I would become a spoiled brat who pushes women down the escalators, believing that I'm special and privileged. Indeed, I would mentally become Naomi Campbell (though I would much more prefer the physical transformation.)
I was still on the phone with Kar-Leung when I arrived at Tsim Sha Shui. The streets were packed with cars, the sidewalks with tourists and locals and while the air was packed with water. "Gee, it's really humid over here. Feels like whole Hong Kong is sweating." I yelled into my mobile.
I turned into Kimberley Road to get to Knutsford Terrace. The Turkish bar-restaurant Merhaba was located there. It was the only place I knew which offered waterpipes.
"A woman alone in a bar," Kar Leung sulked. "Some men might misinterpret that.... Hey, put a book about astrophysics on your table for every one to see... and wear your glasses." Lucky for him Merhaba was not open yet. So I went to its neighboring restaurant: Island - Seafood and Oyster Bar. I kissed Kar-Leung goodbye on the phone by making a loud smoochie-sound and entered.
In Germany as well as in Hong Kong it's quite unusual to go to a restaurant just by yourself. Go with friends, go with colleagues or your maid.... But solo? What kind of impression does that make?
The waitress had to reconfirm the given information. "One person?" Though unspoken, I could hear the the 'just' at the beginning of the question.
The other waiters were also insecure towards me. Oh my, a precedence: Chinese-looking woman who only speaks English and she's all alone. The chances were that I would either be classified as rich spinster or eccentric individual. Therefore I bling-blinged every passing waiter with my engagement ring to raise the chances for the latter.
The food was ok. I had a creamy scallop pumpkin soup as starter and vanilla rice pudding as dessert. Both were very good. Only the main course was partly a kill-joy. I ordered some kind of shrimp-oyster dish.
Shrimp: thumbs up
Oysters: should be spit back into the napkin. If only the nervous waiters did not forget to give me one. It felt like chewing on a fishy liver. Maybe oyster always tastes like that cooked. Eating them raw is more enjoyable.
During lunch I was entertained by a Chinese family sitting at the table next to me. Typical 2+2+1 family structure: father, mother, pre-elementary son, baby and maid. And to my amusement they were all speaking English (except the baby).
The center of the conversation was for some reason the eldest child. Seldom the parents spoke to each other but were always talking to their son. "You eat everything up Matthew," his father said with his deep slow voice "so you can become as strong as Daddy."
Daddy was indeed a tall and bulky man, even for Western standards. He almost looked tough with the golden diamond ring and the black T-shirt with Paddington Bear on it.
His mother had another approach to a conversation. She was talking like an over-caring kindergarten teacher on dope. I later realized that she was only speaking that way so anybody including English beginners could understand her. 'Everybody look how fluent my son's English is. Mine actually sucks but is still better than the English of most Chinese folks. Tee hee hee."
What irritated the most that when talking to her son she always referred to him in third person. "What dus Matthew wanto eeeet?" "Dus Matthew leyterrh wanto bye niu shoos?" Dus Matthew's mother understand the concept of 2nd person singular?
Comment:
Food -- 7 out of 10
Service -- 6 out of 10
Ambience -- 8 out of 10
Matthew's family -- weird
As soon as I left the restaurant I already forgot about them. I slowly moved my full stomach towards the ferry pier. My plan was to take a digestion walk at the harbor and take a ferry to Hong Kong Island.
I passed the Peninsula Hotel. Every time that hotel appears on TV they have to mention that it has the biggest Rolls Royce fleet of Hong Kong. But what the Peninsula is most famous for is the Felix bar/ restaurant on top of it. What makes the Felix so popular is best described in gothamist.com:
I also wanted to take a picture when I was there. But I was to shy to do so in front of the bathroom attendant. Maybe now would be a good time to do so. If only Kar-Leung hadn't taken the digital camera with him to Germany. Damn.
To be continued....
How fast time passes by. I'm living in Hong Kong for a year now. That had to be celebrated. But how?
Should I buy a blueberry cheesecake from Starbucks, stick a candle in it, drive to the Peak in Central, light the candle, blow it out and yell: "Congratulations shorty"?That would be funny especially with all the tourists around.
Japanese tourist boy: "Mum, why is the woman talking to the cake?
Japanese tourist mum: "Probably a local custom, Akira-kun," crams in her bag and pulls out a Nikon D50. "Now be a good boy and go over to her so I can take a picture."
Son obeys and poses with 'victory'-sign.
Yep funny, but did not fit my mood. I felt like reminiscing, smoking a nice waterpipe and have delicious food for lunch. I could do all that in Tsim Sha Tsui, for many reasons one of favourite places in Hong Kong. So I dolled myself up a little and off I went.
Waiting at the MTR (aka Underground) station I received a call from my Kar-Leung in Germany. I figured that it must be around 6:30 a.m. there. Accordingly Kar-Leung's voice still sounded sleepy. The first thing he did was apologizing for not being able to celebrate with me.
I once told him that he's spoiling me with all that kindness and attention thingy,-readjusting my level of expectations and making it difficult to start relationships with other men in case ours would not work out. I would become a spoiled brat who pushes women down the escalators, believing that I'm special and privileged. Indeed, I would mentally become Naomi Campbell (though I would much more prefer the physical transformation.)
I was still on the phone with Kar-Leung when I arrived at Tsim Sha Shui. The streets were packed with cars, the sidewalks with tourists and locals and while the air was packed with water. "Gee, it's really humid over here. Feels like whole Hong Kong is sweating." I yelled into my mobile.
I turned into Kimberley Road to get to Knutsford Terrace. The Turkish bar-restaurant Merhaba was located there. It was the only place I knew which offered waterpipes.
"A woman alone in a bar," Kar Leung sulked. "Some men might misinterpret that.... Hey, put a book about astrophysics on your table for every one to see... and wear your glasses." Lucky for him Merhaba was not open yet. So I went to its neighboring restaurant: Island - Seafood and Oyster Bar. I kissed Kar-Leung goodbye on the phone by making a loud smoochie-sound and entered.
In Germany as well as in Hong Kong it's quite unusual to go to a restaurant just by yourself. Go with friends, go with colleagues or your maid.... But solo? What kind of impression does that make?
The waitress had to reconfirm the given information. "One person?" Though unspoken, I could hear the the 'just' at the beginning of the question.
The other waiters were also insecure towards me. Oh my, a precedence: Chinese-looking woman who only speaks English and she's all alone. The chances were that I would either be classified as rich spinster or eccentric individual. Therefore I bling-blinged every passing waiter with my engagement ring to raise the chances for the latter.
The food was ok. I had a creamy scallop pumpkin soup as starter and vanilla rice pudding as dessert. Both were very good. Only the main course was partly a kill-joy. I ordered some kind of shrimp-oyster dish.
Shrimp: thumbs up
Oysters: should be spit back into the napkin. If only the nervous waiters did not forget to give me one. It felt like chewing on a fishy liver. Maybe oyster always tastes like that cooked. Eating them raw is more enjoyable.
During lunch I was entertained by a Chinese family sitting at the table next to me. Typical 2+2+1 family structure: father, mother, pre-elementary son, baby and maid. And to my amusement they were all speaking English (except the baby).
The center of the conversation was for some reason the eldest child. Seldom the parents spoke to each other but were always talking to their son. "You eat everything up Matthew," his father said with his deep slow voice "so you can become as strong as Daddy."
Daddy was indeed a tall and bulky man, even for Western standards. He almost looked tough with the golden diamond ring and the black T-shirt with Paddington Bear on it.
His mother had another approach to a conversation. She was talking like an over-caring kindergarten teacher on dope. I later realized that she was only speaking that way so anybody including English beginners could understand her. 'Everybody look how fluent my son's English is. Mine actually sucks but is still better than the English of most Chinese folks. Tee hee hee."
What irritated the most that when talking to her son she always referred to him in third person. "What dus Matthew wanto eeeet?" "Dus Matthew leyterrh wanto bye niu shoos?" Dus Matthew's mother understand the concept of 2nd person singular?
Comment:
Food -- 7 out of 10
Service -- 6 out of 10
Ambience -- 8 out of 10
Matthew's family -- weird
As soon as I left the restaurant I already forgot about them. I slowly moved my full stomach towards the ferry pier. My plan was to take a digestion walk at the harbor and take a ferry to Hong Kong Island.
I passed the Peninsula Hotel. Every time that hotel appears on TV they have to mention that it has the biggest Rolls Royce fleet of Hong Kong. But what the Peninsula is most famous for is the Felix bar/ restaurant on top of it. What makes the Felix so popular is best described in gothamist.com:
  If you're in Hong Kong, the most decadent bathrooms in the world might be at the nouveau cuisine restaurant Felix, which is atop of the swank Peninsula Hotel.Designed by Philippe Starck, the bathrooms have floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city; the men's urinals overlook the city, letting Masters of the Universes essentially pee onto the city while ladies can only primp at vanities by the windows. |
I also wanted to take a picture when I was there. But I was to shy to do so in front of the bathroom attendant. Maybe now would be a good time to do so. If only Kar-Leung hadn't taken the digital camera with him to Germany. Damn.
To be continued....
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