Hong Kong

October 10, 2011

Hong Kong is a city of contrasts. On the streets, you’re greeted with some of the most delicious, mouth watering aromas, but walk another step and the most putrid smell will shoot up your nose, enough to put you off eating for, oh, at least ten minutes. By night, you’re dazzled by neon, lost in a sea of black hair and surrounded by the childish tunes of some really bad advertising. Yet by day, bamboo scaffolding covers the city, tiny old women and led by their daughters to lunch and men balancing gas tanks on their bikes weave their way through the streets. It really is a pretty amazing city.

After a 15 hour flight with two hours sleep, we found ourselves eating a £10 Michelin star meal, we watched the most unassuming jazz group perform in a hairdresser salon, come gallery, come bar. We spoke with a crazy, cleaver wielding street vendor who told us all the English words he knew while the blood from recently hacked fish, frogs and god knows what else from his stall dripped into a bucket by our feet. We walked the Path of Wisdom yet didn’t understand a word and visited a fishing village whose people lived on stilted houses on the water and were so far removed from Hong Kong it was like we’d stepped back in time. We went to a market where the hearts of fish were still beating in their dissected bodies and bowls of freshly cut tripe were going for 15 cents. We watched men walk around the Bird Market with their pet songbirds, looking for a suitable mate. We went to the Goldfish Market, the Temple St Market, Ladies Market, pretty much every market in town. We ate a lot, sweated like bitches and really hope to come back again one day soon.