Le Beaujolais Nouveau est Arrivé

As you probably know, visiting Macau is—for me at least—one of the greatest things about living in Hong Kong. The former Portuguese colony, a mere forty miles or so from the SAR, is easily accessible and full of interesting things to do. Macau is now internationally known for its glittering casinos, but for centuries, it was a thriving trading port—and the first European colony in Asia—where spices and other goods passed on their voyage from East to West. Unlike Hong Kong, where the need to provide for the future mandated the unfortunate destruction of many monuments of the past, Macau has miraculously managed to preserve huge sections of its history. Walking around the old city is like strolling through a nineteenth century picture postcard somehow come to life. And I love to soak up all the character of this gem of a place.

Last night, one of my favorite Macau events took place. The local Alliance Française puts on an annual fête to celebrate the release of the Beaujolais nouveau, the first of the year's grapes to be turned into wine. Although Beaujolais nouveau itself is rarely exceptional, it does offer oenophiles their first taste of what's to come when more prestigious regions release their wines over the course of the season. And it's a great excuse to have a little celebration.

So I caught the ferry over and hopped on the number 12 bus to the party. My friend Christina was joining too, but because she couldn't get off work early, I figured it made sense for me to go down first so I'd have some extra time in Macau. The event is held in the courtyard of the Albergue SCM, which is tucked away up some side streets and therefore pretty difficult to find if you don't know where you're going. Surprisingly, after a short wander around the charming quarter, I found it relatively easily. But when I approached the woman seated at the table and asked for a ticket, she told me the party had reached capacity and no more tickets were being sold! I begged and pleaded but to no avail. She said there were no exceptions.

Dejected, I wandered around some more, found a payphone, called Christina (who was already en route) to give her the bad news, and made plans to instead meet her on the steps of the ruins of Saint Paul's, Macau's most famous site. Having been to the party two years in a row, I was so looking forward to my third go. And Christina was also excited for it, having been part of our crew for last year's installment. But we decided to make the best of it and still have a good night.

Strolling around the old cobblestone streets, past reminders of a colonial heritage infused with distinctly Asian accents, we both perked up. (A tasty Portuguese egg tart from a local shop made this even easier.) Macau was still a great place to be, and the clear, cool night was perfect. We sat down at Restaurant Platao, a Portuguese place with a charming patio, up a side alley just off Senado Square. We ordered a bottle of wine, some bread and baked eggplant stuffed with cheese, and we lingered there until they told us they were closing and we had to leave.

And afterwards we just wandered some more, back to Saint Paul's and then up to the ancient fortress that caps a nearby hill. I'd never seen this part of Macau—usually packed with thousands of tourists—so empty. A few locals were chatting with one another on benches or jogging along the path, but it felt like we had the magical place all to ourselves.

Then we had an idea, perhaps inspired by that bottle of wine we had at the restaurant: make our way back towards the Beaujolais party and find some way to get in. So when we approached the Albergue and nobody was manning the entrance, we just waltzed on by, found a (nearly) full bottle and grabbed two empty glasses. We were in.

Sitting in the courtyard, with the moss-covered trees and din of French conversation in the background, we chilled out for an hour or so. In the end we had made it to our party after all. True, the music had stopped by the time we arrived and many party guests had begun filtering out, but we really didn't mind. It was a great development to what had already turned out to be a wonderful evening.

Slowly, lights began turning off, and eventually it became clear that it was again time to leave. So we grabbed some vin-to-go, plopped down on the steps in front of the Church of Saint Lazarus, and basked in the moonlit, floodlit, old world glories of Macau. Although the night had gone decidedly different from how we had expected it to go, it proved that if you just roll with the punches, things always seem to find a way of working out.

Four Years in Asia!

Continuing the tradition of posing an entry on the anniversary of my arrival in Hong Kong, back on this day in 2009, I'd just like to write a bit about my feelings on this fourth return of November 9th. Last year on this date, my departure was imminent. It seemed possible, even probable, that my third anniversary in Hong Kong would prove to be my last. Presciently, a couple of weeks later, the night before I actually moved to Singapore, I reflected on my Hong Kong experience on this blog, and (perhaps in a moment of wishful thinking) stated: "I also don't think my Hong Kong story is quite over yet." Here I am one year later, and my Hong Kong story is indeed continuing. And I am delighted.

I'm a little hesitant with my phrasing here. Considering I spent a sociable amount of time in both Singapore and the United States between November 27th, 2012, and September 18th, 2013, I guess it's a qualified "four years in Hong Kong" I'm commemorating today. Then again, the longest I stayed away from the SAR during my stint in Singapore was a mere six weeks. And some of my visits back here stretched over a month.

My trip home to the States lasted just about three months, but Hong Kong itself, from an immigration standpoint, considers a foreigner's time to "restart" only after an absence of six months or more. (After seven years, one becomes a "permanent resident" and no longer needs to renew one's work visa every couple of years.) So I'm fine with calling the last year a pleasant hiccup and leaving it at that. Bring on year number five!

To say that Hong Kong has changed my life is a masterpiece of understatement. Before accepting a job out here, Asia rarely crossed my mind. I loved to travel, and I suppose some day my curiosity would have eventually brought me out this far. But to be lucky enough to have been sent here as a twenty-two year old, to begin my career, to meet some of the most incredible people I've ever encountered, and to have the ability to travel around this fascinating region, was certainly a lucky draw for me. And the funniest thing about it is that it really was mostly luck. I never angled to find a job here; a job found me. I accepted that offer because I liked the idea of going overseas, and, in all honesty, because there really weren't any other offers around. I'm still out here now because I think I love this city, and this region, more than anywhere else in the world.

So I'm again thanking my lucky stars for the incredible adventure of a lifetime that continues to this day!

A second tradition of these "anniversary posts" seems to be the recounting of my recent Halloween exploits, both lame and brilliant.

Halloween, as you know, awkwardly fell on a Thursday this year. I say "awkwardly" because in Hong Kong, people seemed confused by the timing. "Nobody celebrates Halloween in November," I was told. "The party night will be the Saturday before." But still from another source, I heard, "The weekend immediately after Halloween is closer to the actual holiday. That will be the big one." And of course, there was the Thursday night itself. It seemed like three costumes were in order.

But life is busy. I didn't put sufficient time or planning into my outfits. Luckily, the "fancy dress chest" in our apartment is pretty impressive: a collection of hats, wigs, chains, robes, vests, toy guns and knives, paint and other assorted items, gathered from all manner of celebrations over the past four years. That first Saturday night sneaked up on my like a bandit. I had to raid the chest and put something together in a whirlwind ten minute session. I threw on Remco's old purple wig from Clue 2011's Professor Plum disguise, a pair of cheap shades, Vivian's cowgirl hat from March's Rugby Sevens, and a strange bathrobe who's origins are so murky I can't really offer any further information.

In LKF that night, it was clear I was in costume. But dressed as what? That was another matter. And by the time I finally made it home, both the wig and hat were lost completely to the night while the glasses remain in a useless, vegetative state.

Halloween night itself required another quick remedy for poor planning. Sarah went as a wicked witch, and I wore an old American Revolution-era three cornered hat, ghoulish face paint (which we didn't realize was glittery until Sarah had already applied it to half of my face), some chains and a pirate's gun. I was ready to tell people I was a victim of "some nameless battle during the Revolutionary War," to borrow the words of Washington Irving, but nobody actually asked.

And Friday night, I went as the Big Bad Wolf to my Villanova friend Christina's Little Red Riding Hood. When Christina first asked me to be her partner, I decided I'd go as a modern day Wolf (of Wall Street) in a business suit. The only bit of any costume I actually wound up buying this year was my creepy wolf's mask, which I picked up on Pottinger Street a few hours before the Friday night parties. My French buddy Romain invited me to a rooftop bash in Causeway Bay, on a sick terrace overlooking Victoria Park. And after Little Red arrived significantly later, we hopped in a cab and went to a second apartment party with her friends in TST. So in all, over three nights' parties (not to mention all those rooftop horror movies) it was a fun and memorable Halloween.

So, as of today, I've spent as long in Hong Kong as I did in high school and Villanova, which is certainly hard to believe. And I know it's a dull cliché, but the time has certainly flown, perhaps even faster than my four years at college! Still life, in short, is good. Good friends, good food, good parties, good weather, good fun. And, perhaps my favorite thing about living in Asia, life is always an adventure. Cheers to you Hong Kong! Thanks for the past four years, and for whatever is left to come!