Sodden shoes, rotten ziffers

Six weeks of rain, sodden shoes. It’s almost the end of the road for them. After not having dried out between the daily dowsings, the moisture has rotted away the stitiching that stopped the water from getting in and kept my feet dry. Damn, I knew that these shoes were on the way out, now they were literally hanging on by the ziffers of it’s laces, and not a replacement pair in sight.

Forget your spork, use chop sticks

IMG_2484EDIT2It must be the Cantonese genes exerting themselves on me, or maybe it’s just a wish for a change in palate. Food that, in my childhood, I would have spurned and rejected, I now find utterly nostalgic.

Enter the Chinese restaurant. Not unlike some restaurants run in Korea, they’re Ma and Pa run organisations with one exception. In Hong Kong, browse in front of the frontage too long and you’ll get shooed away. Our first lunch in Hong Kong was eaten in such a restaurant. 206We sat down in a barbeque restaurant; the menu was in Cantonese and the floors clean but, with an uncleanable layer of grease on top of a vinyl floor. Served by what I might classify as the Grandma of the restaurant, we ate a plate of Jasmine rice and sliced char siu pork. This came with a bowl of clear beef soup with a chunk on carrot floating somewhere near the bottom. Flashback to Saturday nights at my Grandads, my mum and aunties have cooked and what I have in front of me now is identical, sans some choi sum vegetable. All this for 20 HKD a plate, possibly the cheapest dish eaten on our 7 day gastronomic  tour-de-force of Hong Kong.

We returned to the same restaurant later in the week and ordered gay fun (steamed chicken with rice) and roasted pork with rice. I was told later that chicken is feminine, while the pork was masculine. The plates were plopped down in that order. We swapped plates when the waiter left.

From Hong Kong-Cantonese food to what was touted as Singaporean food. At 10 o’clock in the morning, breakfast was off, so I had what amounted to lamb chops with pepper gravy. Not bad, but mashed potato would have been more preferable, and next time it was the garlic sauce. We came back to this restaurant (more than once) simply because it was close to the hotel we stayed at.


In between eating, we visited the giant bhudda at Ngong ping peak and saw the Shalon monks perform their Kung fu, paddled our feet in the sea at Repulse bay, walked between Mong kok and Prince Edward stations, ate on the “Night buffet” while viewing the symphony of lights, and lastly went to Victoria peak at sunset. Sadly the sun set behind the city and not in front. I did however did manage to shoot some very nice photos of Hong Kong city during the day and night.


Finally, the seven days were up. The last meal in Hong Kong? Japanese noodles, dumplings and a serving of Ashahi beer. Delicious.