A safe short flight left Taiwan in our proverbial rear view mirror (planes do not have rear view mirrors) and we were greeted with the organised hum of Hong Kong. My third time in Honkers before we head back to Australia has no set agenda other than:
- Explore
- Eat
- Laugh
- Go back to #1
For the uninitiated Hong Kong is a sensory overload. It’s chaotic but it somehow manages to tread the fine line of not being overwhelming (though I didn’t say that on my first visit). There are more people than you can throw a stick at, but the locals are that friendly you wouldn’t want to throw a stick at anybody even if you have a pile at your disposal. As soon as we got off the subway an elderly stranger approached us to practise her English as we must have been giving off “lost tourist vibes”.
For those that have been to Hong Kong it doesn’t take long to reacquaint yourself provided you have access to money. Three different banks and fistfuls of “Transaction Denied” receipts resulted in several heated calls to my Australian bank. At this stage I thought I’d have more luck getting money with a balaclava and a sawn off twenty-two. Isn’t this city supposed to be a global finance hub? Then why are the ATMs closed at 5pm? If I wanted to raise my blood pressure, I would devour seven custard tarts and nine plates of dumplings.
Three banks later I was eventually reunited with my savings which was immediately used to feed my congee addiction. Down the street from our hotel was a humble little family run store that specialises in Hong Kong comfort food. Congee is rice porridge that has been warming hearts for as long as they have cold. Cheung fun is always a must, the sheets of steamed rice noodle covered in sauce and filled with small treasures of meat are as warming as a flannelette blanket. Onwards to polish it off with some weird and wonderful bakery delights.
Special mention needs to be given to the art installations in the subway. The maze of tunnels underneath the city are covered with some art that captures the minutiae of day to day life in Hong Kong. Sure beats some of the graffiti back home. During my last visit I dedicated paragraphs on the subway system in Hong Kong, possibly the best in the world. The only thing I will say is that it is still comfortable, convenient, safe and affordable. The standard hasn’t slipped one bit.
Every night there is a laser show set to music on one side of the bank whilst the other has a less memorable light show. How all those workers synchronise the turning off and on their office lights is a remarkable feat. If some worker is swearing at a jammed photocopier and misses their cue, the message could totally lose its meaning. It’s not an exaggeration; onlookers would be horrified to see the well intentioned “Heroes” morph into “Herpes” if the timing of those on the lower floors was slightly off.
The laser show on the other side of the bank is jaw dropping by comparison. Thumping music and dancing lights ensure throngs of people assemble on a nightly basis to witness the epileptic-inducing spectacle. My photos didn’t do it justice so watch this video instead.
There is a dim sum place that serves up what is widely recognised as the world’s best custard buns. In my previous visits to Hong Kong it was always on my list but have not been able to visit largely because the 3:00am opening time didn’t gel with my biorhythms. This time, with somebody else to act as my alarm clock I was determined to get there. As a backup, multiple alarms were set.
At that hour the trains are also asleep. It was only us and a bitterly cold headwind. The kilometre walk increased out appetite. We get there 20 minutes after the doors open and the place is near capacity. As per dim sum etiquette our party of two are tacked onto a table with an older gent was a regular and has worn a groove in his particular seat. The kind of man whose face would be best described as, “character actor”. He quickly took us under his wing, pointing us to the tea station as well as ordering a tower of food on our behalf with a few nods, whistles and grunts. Between mouthfuls of shumai and har gow we told him about our travels and he gave us some suggestions to hit before we leave the city.
The two items that keep the masses entering the door are the fried milk and the salted custard buns. Fried milk is a weird concept given that milk has a mind of its own. But if you add some cornstarch you can tame it, giving it some form that can be drowned in hot oil. The type of dish that would end in your kitchen burning to the ground if you tried it and home. Best to leave this one to the professionals. The consistency of a silken tofu but with it was sweet with a crunchy exterior. Mental note to order another round of these in the coming days.
Found out the hard way that your tastebuds can still work even if you have third degree burns on your tongue. The custard buns are salted and sweetened duck egg heated to the temperature of lava. Something this nice shouldn’t require patience to eat, it’s a cruel practical joke. They are so addicitive that you don’t want to waste time waiting for them to cool.
Since my last visit I have become obsessed with claypot rice. A five minute clip on SBS has sent me down a rabbithole and ever since I have been counting down the days to experience the authentic dish so I can compare my cheap imitation against. Stop one was a false start, what we thought was going to be beef and claypot turned out to be a mince patty atop some rice. Don’t trust everything Google Translate tells you. It was that bad that my fried fell asleep.
Our second attempt was at a place that came highly recommended but was pure distilled disappointment. The “meat” was flavoured bones and the rice wasn’t as crispy as we have hoped. There is another option that we walk past everyday that is open in the afternoon and the lineup is around the block more than once. Here’s hoping we can camp out in the next couple of days and turn our claypot rice related frowns upside down?
It was time to call into a shop near the hotel and grab some duct tape as my shoes were getting worse with each city block. The cashier must have been thinking some Australian crime gang was in town, but after she eyeballed my exposed socks her heartrate slowed. This stop-gap was applied that liberally that I gained a few extra inches in height. Now onto exploring… destination Kawloon and Monkok before we head back to Australia in a couple of days.
