The Unexpectedly Awesome Weekend

Friday evening after work, I made my way home slowly via tram—the traffic was horrible—with few plans and even fewer expectations for the impending weekend. I had two lame goals: to clean my bedroom and straighten out the rooftop. Both of these tasks are long overdue. And neither of them seemed to hold any promise for contributing to a particularly memorable weekend. 

So bent was I on accomplishing these tedious chores that I didn't even leave Happy Valley that night. I took Fredric to the dog park, stopped off for a few beers at the pooch-friendly Happy Alley, grabbed a bowl of ramen at a low-key Japanese restaurant around the corner and spent the rest of the evening watching old episodes of What's My Line. 

Awaking early on Saturday, I took Fredric out for his morning walk and quickly realized that it was shaping up to be a beautiful day. Yes, I could have returned home and gotten down and dirty with straightening up the flat. But I had a hunch the view from the Peak would be incredible, so instead, Fredric and I hopped in a cab and headed up. "You'll have the whole afternoon to clean," I convinced myself, "so you might as well take advantage of this glorious morning." 

Eggs Benedict and a Bloody Mary at the Peak Lookout convinced me I made the right decision. We had the restaurant's outdoor terrace all to ourselves, and then off we embarked on the circular walk around Harlech and Lugard Roads, which I've written before may be my absolute favorite thing about Hong Kong.

As expected, the views were peerless and in spite of the fact that I come up here regularly, I still spent a great deal of time just staring out over the city taking in the spectacular panorama. Midway through the circular walk, I felt my Blackberry buzzing in my pocket. My friend James had stumbled upon a sign promoting a free beer festival in Repulse Bay later that afternoon. He, his wife Katie and their friend Andrea decided to attend. Was I interested in tagging along? Of course, when faced between cleaning my apartment and drinking free beer, I always make the same decision. 

The beer festival actually started at 4pm, so we had some time to kill on the beach beforehand. But, in spite of a zero percent chance of rain according to Andrea's iPhone, ominous skies in the general direction of Ocean Park seemed headed our way. And as a tri-lingual announcement—first in Cantonese, then in Mandarin and, finally, in English—played over the loudspeakers, people began migrating indoors as a massive wind swept across the beach. Followed by heavy rain. 

We took shelter in the Pulse, stopping in the supermarket for beer and ice cream. And before long, the festivities began. It turned out, it wasn't so much a beer festival as a beer pong tournament. 

We had to pair off, register and choose team names. Andrea and I—the Liberty Belles, thanks to our mutual Philadelphian roots—didn't do so well. And I learned that I'm a far cry from my glory days at 'Nova. However, Katie and James—Typhoon Pong, owing to the unexpected torrential downpour that relocated the tournament from the waterfront patio to the interior of the mall—came in third place, garnering themselves a spot on the official podium of victory! 

By the tournament's close, the good weather had returned. So after Katie and James collected their prize, we relocated to the sandy beach and plopped down as the sun set, just chatting on for quite a long while. 

When I got home, I went to sleep fully expecting to proceed with the cleaning in the morning. Saturday had been forecast to be sunny and bright all day, while Sunday—the meteorologists warned—would be dark, thundery and stormy. So when I awoke to more beautiful skies, I was faced with another dilemma... You can probably guess what happened.

My friend Pierre recently moved to Hong Kong and is just starting to discover all the gems and charms of this incredible place. Early Sunday morning, he told me he felt "like escaping the city for an hour or two," if I had any suggestions.

"Well, we can spend the morning on the islands," I reasoned to myself, "and I'll still have the whole afternoon to clean." So I proposed sailing to either Cheung Chau or Peng Chau. 

In the end, we decided to do both. First we headed off to Peng Chau, arguably the most unloved of Hong Kong's major outlying islands. With the good weather in mind, I remembered an al fresco French café, Les Copains D'abord, misplaced in the small town's main square. It seemed like a perfect day for charcuterie and cheese washed down with a bottle of white. Then we could take the inter-island ferry to Cheung Chau for a fresh seafood feast. And from there, we could take the boat straight back to Central. 

When we disembarked at Peng Chau's pier, we discovered that Les Copains D'abord was, unfortunately, shuttered. But as we approached to read a sign posted on the door, a friendly Frenchman in a yellow t-shirt road up on his bicycle. "This is my bar. It's closed for a few months because of problems with the landlord. But let me show you around." 

His name was Bertrand and he took us all over Peng Chau's tiny web of streets, pointing out the historic temples, old wells, a former leather factory, an abandoned cinema and notable homes. He then took us to a small café and ordered three Tsing Taos. "After my place, this is the best spot on the island," he told us. With views of a local temple, the sea and the rolling hills, it was an idyllic venue for lingering. And we split another bottle after we had finished those first three.

There's little to see or do on Peng Chau, but as Bertrand pointed out to us, "that's why we love it here." It's possibly the most authentic of Hong Kong's easily accessible islands, with little of the encroachment of tourism or modernity found elsewhere. While hoards of visitors and expats all flock to Lamma, Cheung Chau or Lantau, pint-sized Peng Chau is left to cater mostly to the locals who call it home. 

Bertrand had to catch the boat to Central later, but before he left, he deposited us at a delicious Thai restaurant where we had fried rice, yellow curry, pork neck and—you guessed it—some more Tsing Tao. 

And during lunch, my new friend Jennifer called. She just moved to Hong Kong for a four month externship at the Hong Kong Jockey Club. A student at the Culinary Institute of America, she's working in the clubhouse restaurant in Sha Tin this summer, but she lives in Happy Valley a few buildings away from me on Blue Pool Road.

I told her we'd be heading over to Cheung Chau shortly if she wanted to meet up. And while Pierre and I waited for the inter-island ferry's departure, we hiked to the beach and explored more of the intriguing little island. Fredric loved playing in the sand and making as many friends as possible, of both the four-legged and two-legged varieties. 

When we were just about to get on the ferry to our next stop, the rain started. By the time we got off the boat in Cheung Chau, it was all over. Perfect timing indeed. We linked up with Jennifer, strolled the waterfront praya past all the seafood restaurants, snaked through the quiet alleys towards the beach, and made our way back to the harbor for dinner. In the end, we caught a 9:30 ferry back to Central, and Jennifer and I walked all the way back to Happy Valley. 

It's Monday now, and as I probably should have predicted given my track record, my room is still in disarray and the roof a mess. But, oh, what an unexpectedly awesome weekend!