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Saturday, February 9, 2019

The Great Chinese New Year Staycation of 2019


Red lanterns swinging in the breeze; mandarin orange trees and orchids lining the streets; red pockets passed out like free fliers; lion and dragon dancers performing all throughout the city; and three days off from work to soak it all up... It can only be one stretch of the Hong Kong social calendar: Chinese New Year!

Red pockets (or lai see)

As I'm sure you're all aware, the Year of the Dog ended last Tuesday while the Year of the Pig has just begun! And, for only the second of the ten Chinese New Years that have come and gone since I moved to Hong Kong, I wound up staying put for the massive celebration.

Kung Hei Fat Choi!

I'm not entirely certain why I opted to remain in town this year. The last time that I stuck around—back in 2014—I was looking for a job and thrown a curveball by the public holidays falling on a Friday, Saturday and Monday, frustrating potential companions' ability to make the most of their travels. So it seemed like the right occasion to finally experience my first Chinese New Year in Hong Kong.

Flashback: Chinese New Year 2014

Fast forward to 2019, however, and I'm gainfully employed and the timing couldn't have been better: square in the middle of the work week. It would have been easy to take off Monday and Friday, fly out the weekend before, and return to Hong Kong tomorrow, squeezing a week-plus trip out of a mere two vacation days. In fact, I would still be somewhere exciting and exotic right now if I had done that!

But through an odd combination of circumstances, I never got my act together, although I did toy with the idea briefly. First (and, perhaps, foremost), the calendar simply didn't mesh with life. I felt like I had only just returned from my extended Christmas trip home, getting back to Hong Kong on 9 January. Zipping out again on the first day of February seemed too soon. Compounding matters, I am headed to Mexico next week for a wedding, and I wasn't sure if I wanted that hectic a schedule. Even if I only traveled over the public holidays themselves, I'd still have a mere week until setting off again.

Of course, I'd also have to find someone to take care of Fredric during my absence, which can be difficult during popular public holidays when most expat friends are away and most local friends have important family commitments. And, to be honest, perhaps I was just ready to experience a Chinese New Year here again.

Purple orchids in Victoria Park

In the end, I'm delighted that I stayed put. The weather was phenomenal, and it really is a special time of year in a place that means a lot to me. Yes, it was another great Chinese New Year staycation in a city where I couldn't feel more at home.

Massive crowds at the flower market in Victoria Park

Like most holidays, the telltale signs of Chinese New Year's approach are visible weeks in advance of the festival itself. The orange trees and flowers have been around pretty much since I got back. There were even lion and dragon dances at the Wednesday races in Happy Valley last week. Lanterns are everywhere, with the most stunning display fronting Kowloon's elegant Peninsula Hotel. And my friend Yvonne—who was travelling to Shanghai to spend the week with her family—organized a fantastic Friday night dinner at Red Pepper in Causeway Bay to have some quality time with her Hong Kong friends before flying out. It was a phenomenal meal and a night to remember.

But the real celebrations didn't begin until the following week.

On Monday, after a long day in the office, I headed home ready for three enjoyable days off. And I kick-started it all with a visit Victoria Park's iconic flower market. This popular event takes place in the week leading up to the festival, its final day being Chinese New Year's Eve. Since I hadn't been yet this year, it was my last chance.

Queen Victoria

I walked over around 10pm, basking in the unbelievably crowded, undeniably palpable atmosphere, surrounded by throngs of visitors in search of the perfect mandarin orange trees, colorful orchids, cherry blossoms, gladiolas and and chrysanthemums. Of course, there are also food and souvenir stalls, in addition to political organizations spreading their messages. And regal Queen Victoria surveys the multitudes, perpetually unimpressed.

Shopping for flowers in Victoria Park

But perhaps most memorable of all are the young students, with their high-octane energy. Many groups get together to brainstorm an idea, and then sell their product at the fair. To generate interest, they stand up on stools with megaphones, shouting out to the crowd. Of course, I hardly understand a word of it, but their enthusiasm is just so darn infectious.

Passionate students at the fair

Treating myself to a celebratory Haagen-Dazs from Seven-Eleven en route to Happy Valley, I remembered that back in 2014, the normally quiet Tam Kung Temple across the the street from my apartment was still abuzz when I returned home from a night of partying in Lan Kwai Fong around 4am. "Maybe," I thought to myself, "there will be something special to mark the moment the Year of the Pig officially begins."

As I walked up Blue Pool Road, I saw hundreds of people lining the steps up to the temple, its lights shining upon them. It was only a short while until midnight, so Fredric and I headed to the rooftop, where there is a clear view across the street. For such a large crowd, everybody was hushed and quiet.

Tam Kung Temple in Happy Valley, from my rooftop

Sure enough, at the stroke of twelve, everybody erupted in cheers! There were drums being banged, candles being lit, bells being rung, hands being shook, hugs being given. I got goosebumps as I witnessed the scene.


I took Fredric for a New Year's walk afterwards, and when we got home, I opened all the windows of my bedroom, allowing the cacophony from Kam Tung to serve as my lullaby. As I was serenaded to sleep, part of me felt like a fool for never having experienced this moment in the seven years I've lived in this building. It was pure magic.

View of the temple from my bedroom windows

Tuesday morning, my friend Carol called to ask if I had any plans for the day. To be honest, I only had a faint outline of an itinerary, and I was completely willing to toss it to the wind if needs be. So we decided to meet for lunch in Happy Valley and then go for a hike. After tasty French fare at Saint Germain, we climbed the six flights of stairs to my rooftop and enjoyed an al fresco drink before heading up Victoria Peak with Fredric.

Carol and Fredric

Although it was warm out, the weather was undeniably hazy. I reasoned that this would keep the throngs of tourists away from the Peak, giving us the chance to have a casual stroll in relative solitude. I've never been more wrong in my life. In spite of the murky views, the peak was about as crowded as I'd ever seen it.

A hazy day on the Peak

I wondered aloud to Carol—born in Staten Island with parents originally from Hong Kong—if the Chinese believe good fortune comes from going someplace high up on the first day of the new year, but she wasn't sure. I suppose it's also possible that a smoggy view from the Peak is better than not going up at all for those out-of-town visitors only here for a precious day or two. Whatever the reason, it's always a nice walk, and I'm glad we spent the day outside.

Flowering tree on Luggard Road, the Peak

One of my favorite parts of a visit to the Peak is walking down afterwards. While I almost always take a taxi or bus to the top, I love following the steep downward paths that lead back to Central, as nature merges into metropolis.

Walking down to the city

The city below was calm and serene, not chaotic and frazzled as it normally is. Chalk it up to Chinese New Year. The skies were about to gradually darken, and if I wanted to go to the parade in Kowloon, I'd have to hightail it home right quick to drop off Fredric and cross the harbor. But once I thought it through, I oped to skip out on it this time. After all, I'd done the parade fully and properly in 2014. It was surely a worthwhile experience, but it was one that required a lot of time and effort. And I thought a more relaxing alternative this year might be to grab a few drinks.

So I called Liz—another friend who also decided to stay put—to see what she was up to. We met at the foot of the Escalator in the midst of an eerily quiet SoHo. Wandering around, it was nearly impossible to find signs of life. Making lemonade out of lemons, we stopped for a cocktail at the normally-standing room only Old Man, where we easily found space at 10pm. A tiny bar often ranked among Asia's best, the Old Man only seats about fifteen or twenty guests, so it can feel buzzy and crowded on an otherwise quiet night. And it was the perfect place to kick things off.

Afterwards, we walked along deader-than-a-door-nail Wyndham Street and descended down into Lan Kwai Fong. It wasn't exactly empty, but it wasn't swinging by any stretch of the imagination. So Liz and I reasoned that Wan Chai might be a better bet. We climbed aboard the tram, hoping the crowd that prefers the humbler watering holes along Lockhart Road might be more apt to remain in Hong Kong over the holiday period than the swanky expats who normally take to the streets of SoHo.

For the second time that day, I was flat-out wrong. Wan Chai was just as empty as Central had been. Liz and I stopped for a few moments to talk with Cecille, who manages a pub called the Devil's Advocate. It was actually really nice to have such a personal conversation with her, because most nights her bar is so busy she hardly has time to make idle chitchat. She offered us two Jagerbombs before we headed off in search of our elusive hopping nightspot.

Finally, we struck gold at The Wanch, a live music venue on Jaffe Road that was full of revelers, including a middle-aged lady celebrating her birthday who was coaxed up on stage to perform two songs with the band. She had the voice of a rock 'n roll angel, and it was an absolute blast listening to her sing.

After the set ended, Liz and I headed over the the nearby Seven-Eleven to grab a couple of beers while we debated venues for a possible late night dinner. As we stood on the pavement about to head off, someone shouted out, "Is that you, Paul?"

Wan Chai neon

I turned to see Chun and Myles, two of my best buds who had also just bought drinks at the same shop. "What the hell are you guys doing out tonight? I figured you'd both be with your families, so I didn't want to bother you!"

"No, we were at a friend's apartment, and figured we'd have a last drink in Wan Chai before going home," Chun answered.

Chun and Myles are about as good of friends as anybody could ask for, and I can't think of two other guys who I'd have rather bumped into unexpectedly that night. They joined up with Liz and me for a round of Coronas in Amazonia before suggesting we head back to Lan Kwai Fong.

"These little piggies went to Wan Chai..."

Perhaps affected by the tipples of the evening, we agreed and hailed a taxi. "Maybe things have picked up a little," Liz wishfully thought. Alas, Lan Kwai was no better than it had been before. We attempted to enter Geronimo's, but the staff had locked the doors and were walking out as we passed them. So back to Seven-Eleven we went for the remainder of our evening.

Looking back now, I think it's funny that we tried so hard to find a crowd when we wound up having such a great time anyway. From SoHo to Lan Kwai to Wan Chai to Lan Kwai again, it was a pretty stellar night. And a late one, to boot.

With Chun and Myles

Wednesday, Liz and I met at the Central Ferry Piers for lunch in Mui Wo. I had called Bahce, my favorite Turkish restaurant, earlier that morning to ensure they were open, and an extremely chipper waitress informed me that they were indeed.

Fredric on the ferry

We feasted on stuff grape leaves, the restaurant's specialty eggplant dip, fried haloumi cheese, cigars borek and Turkish cigarettes. Everything was delicious, and sitting in tranquil Mui Wo, sipping a beer, and observing sleepy village life was wonderful. How to cap it all off? Rice pudding of course! And obviously the boat ride in each direction is as much a part of the fun as everything else! In short, a perfect afternoon.

More ferry fun

Liz was heading to the fireworks that night, and I had to get Fredric home before returning to Wan Chai for a pub quiz at 8pm, so we parted ways. I wound up walking back to Happy Valley from the piers, through Tamar Park with its gorgeous view of Victoria Harbour.

Ever since the Chapel closed, I've been in search of a replacement weekly pub quiz. Alas, I haven't found my perfect fit yet, but the closest I have come is the Wednesday night quiz at the Canny Man. Unfortunately, as high as pub quizzes are on my list of favorite evening activities, horse races are just a little bit higher. And the fact that the Canny Man's weekly quiz overlaps with the Happy Valley races means I rarely have the opportunity to visit.

When I realized the Wednesday races would not be run this week, I got a group together and booked a table. Five friends joined me in the quiz that evening: Kevin, Matt, Ana, Max and Celine—the last two announcing that they had gotten engaged the night before!

Our team name was Kung Hei Fat ChOINK, in a nod to the Year of the Pig! And although we only came in fourth place, it was great fun, complete with several drinks across the street at Devil's Advocate, significantly more crowded than it had been the night before.

Thursday was the last of this year's three public holidays afforded by Chinese New Year. And there was one item on my "to do" list I've wanted to check off for years: attending the massive race meeting at Sha Tin, where over one-hundred and five thousand people showed up! After International Race Day in December, this is probably the most popular day on the calendar, so I was delighted to finally witness the spectacle.

Races at Sha Tin

It was yet another gorgeous day, with blue skies shining on the green hills of the New Territories, and although I turned up alone, I wound up bumping into my friend Steve and even Carol in the frenetic setting! And the free souvenir pen the Jockey Club gave out to all entrants will help keep the memories fresh in my mind!

With Steve (and his souvenir pen) at the track

I'm not too modest to admit that I was doing all right from a gambling perspective at the lead-in to the day's final race. But then I really hit it big on a total and utter fluke. Looking over the tote board while filling out my ticket, I realized the six horse had the worst odds I have ever seen—literally—in my life. A successful HKD 10 wager on him to win was slated to pay over three thousand! Six being my perpetually lucky number, I put a minimal sum on him to place... and almost fell over when he came in second! Kung Hei Fat Choi to me!

The final race... Keep your eye on the six horse!

I treated myself to dinner at Shatin Inn afterwards, smirking like a cat who'd been at the cream, not just at my good fortune in race eleven—or even at the otherworldly magnificence of their satays—but at the improbable perfection of the past three days as a whole. So many moments in my Hong Kong life have reinforced my impression that I live in one of the greatest places on earth, but staying here for this stupendous occasion was really something exceptional.

Beef and chicken satays at Sha Tin Inn

I know I'll probably bolt off for the next four Chinese New Years, but in 2024—if my pattern holds firm—when I do this again, I know I'll be in for sheer bliss. So, from Hong Kong to the USA, and everywhere in between, I'd like to take a quick moment to say, "Kung Hei Fat Choi, everybody!" I hope your Year of the Pig is happy, healthy and prosperous!

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