I'm on such a Hong Kong high tonight, after a quick-but-unforgettable visit from my old pal Maddie, a fellow Villanova 2009 graduate who recently found herself in Singapore for a workshop. With a mere four hours' flight time connecting the Lion City and my adopted hometown, it made perfect sense for Maddie to add a few days on to her itinerary, to soak up summertime in the South China Sea.
Me and Maddie in the olden days
Her stop in Hong Kong has been a long time in the making. We've been friends since freshman year—and you may recall that I spent Chinese New Year in 2015 gallivanting around southern India with her—so with the announcement of her impending trip, an immediate wave of euphoria washed over me. And while it's always great to share this place with longtime friends, there was something particularly satisfying about showing it off to Maddie, returning the favor as best I could for the rip-roaring good time she showed me in Tamil Nadu three-and-a-half years ago. Augmenting this was the fact that, sadly, our paths hadn't crossed since that incredible experience, so, as I'm sure you can imagine, there was plenty we had to catch up on.
Maddie touched down in Hong Kong just before 10 o'clock last Wednesday evening, and in the not-quite-three days that quickly followed, we filled the time as fully as possible, with little sleep and lots of action. I'm sure she's sleeping high above the north pole right about now, as Cathay Pacific ferries her back to the States, but I hope the memories are well worth the exhaustion.
Although we were short on time, we surely made the most of the situation. After she let me know she had cleared customs and retrieved her bag from the carousel, I caught a cab from Happy Valley to the Airport Express terminus, and Maddie's train was the very next one to pull in to the station! Non-existant taxi queues meant that within moments, we were en route to the flat, while I pointed out landmarks like the Statue Square—with its Supreme Court Building and Cenotaph—and I. M. Pei's iconic Bank of China Tower.
It's never fun toting luggage up the six steep flights of stairs in my apartment building, but knowing a waggily-tailed pooch was eagerly awaiting our entry to the flat made the climb worthwhile. Just as I expected, Maddie and Fredric hit it off in an instant, and we humans split a San Miguel on the rooftop while the canine romped about playing with the empty can.
I didn't want to force any partying upon Maddie unless she was up for it, but I must confess that I was elated when she expressed an interest in dipping her toe into Hong Kong's famous nightlife scene. It was a Wednesday night, after all, and although the mid-week horse racing meetings have stopped for the summer, Wan Chai still kicks back with its popular Ladies Night festivities as usual. So with moments to spare, we caught the evening's final tram out of the Valley as we glided towards the string of bars lining Lockhart and Jaffe Roads.
Devil's Advocate is still a perennial favorite of mine, after all these years. The "Standard Chartered Twenty" promotion I've written about before has been dumbed down of late. So instead of needing a specific bank-issued note to enjoy the crazy discount, any twenty will now do—whether issued by Bank of China, HSBC of Standard Chartered. Between Maddie and myself, we cobbled together four of the bills, which we redeemed for two rounds of Gin and Tonic while we continued to fill each other in on what had gone on in our lives over the past three-and-a-half years.
As we got to the bottom of our second round, we realized that the crowd both inside and in front of Devil's had dwindled down to a mere handful. But just across the street, Carnegie's really seemed to be hopping. To get a better look, we migrated across Lockhart Road, where we settled in amidst the throngs of teenagers for whom this stretch of sidewalk is a natural habitat. And although we didn't venture inside the bar, we did linger amidst the rabble for a bit, taking advantage of some of the best people watching a Wan Chai Wednesday has to offer.
At last, it was time to introduce Maddie to Hong Kong cuisine, so we settled in to a booth at the nearby Hay Hay Kitchen, with its mercifully long opening hours. As would become a theme over the days to follow, we didn't exactly do a good job of gauging our hunger, over-ordering an assortment of local favorites, including honey glazed char siu, vegetable fried rice, tangy fish curry and shrimp wontons—and a jumbo bottle of Tsing Tao for good measure!
With out stomachs now lined, we were ready for further merrymaking, so with a white plastic doggie bag stacked with three Styrofoam boxes of leftovers, I suggested we duck into Dusk Till Dawn, with its live Filipino cover band and pulsating ambiance. Next up was a brief visit to Amazonia, followed by a pit stop at one of the numerous "Club Sevens" that stud this area of Hong Kong.
It was just so great to be with Maddie again, hearing about her life in Indiana, and reminiscing over our shared memories of Villanova and India. And, of course, outlining the fun that lay ahead over the next days. But sitting on the stoop watching the skies gradually lighten, Maddie and I eventually decided to return home via the first tram. It had turned into a whale of a night, and if we weren't careful, we might forfeit out ability to take full advantage of Thursday. So we meandered up to Hennessy Road, where a Happy Valley-bound ding ding arrived a few moments later.
I finished the delicious char siu during our ride, and you can bet Fredric was delighted to see us again at home—especially when we decided the fried rice that had miraculously survived the journey would be a perfect early morning snack for the little mutt.
The next morning (i.e. a few hours later), Maddie and I were surprisingly chipper. After showering and getting ready for the day, we made a beeline for Happy Alley, my 'hood's most charming coffee bar. The Austrian java they dish out is among the best in town, as are the barristas, and the true neighborhood feel the place exudes helped me demonstrate to Maddie why I love the Valley so much.
I had booked both Thursday and Friday off from work, and Cheung Chau was the main objective for this first full day. As you know, I just love that tiny little island, with its colorful lanes, killer seafood restaurants, vibrant fisher folk and the juxtaposition of the island's simplicity alongside the modernity of the rest of Hong Kong. So it was an absolute joy to watch Maddie slowly discover the place's subtle charms.
We plopped down at a waterfront table of New Baccarat, situated at the far end of the meandering waterfront praya, with a view out over the hundreds of boats bobbing up and down in Cheung Chau's coloful harbor. Of course, while the staff of New Baccarat never fails to hand out menus listing their dishes, it's much more fun to select your lunch directly from the tanks of live sea critters abutting the restaurants front door, ranging from pomfret and garoupa to crab, lobster, scallops and other assorted shellfish.
A meal here is one of Hong Kong's pure, unadulterated pleasures. In almost nine years of visits to New Baccarat—having dined there with friends, family and, on occasion, even alone—I've never walked away anything but convinced I've just feasted upon some of the world's freshest, most delicious seafood. That day, we chose a beautiful whole local garoupa, incredible salt-and-pepper squid and heavenly steamed scallops besmeared with heaps of garlic. Unlike the night before, a doggie bag was entirely unnecessary, since not a single morsel of any dish went unconsumed.
The rest of our day on Cheung Chau was filled with exploration, as Maddie, Fredric and I made our way all around the island. We ducked into the historic main temple, crisscrossed the web of pedestrian-only lanes, indulged in creative ice coffees from Valor, paid a visit to the beaches, stopped for a break at the lovely, relaxed Windsurfer Cafe, strolled along Peak Road, and fit in a snack of curry fish balls and mango mochi.
And just before catching the ferry to Central, I took a moment to show Maddie the old, crumbling Cheung Chau cinema, built in 1928. Now ceiling-less and overgrown with weeds, the building still exudes traces of its art deco elegance that I find simply irresistible. I'm not embarrassed to admit my pipe dream of one day restoring the building to it's former glory and turning into a screening room spotlighting classic movies, like would have originally flickered across its screen.
Since we arrived back just around the height of the evening rush hour, we decided to pause for a drink at Beer Bay beside Pier 3 before proceeding onward to our next destination, Victoria Peak. Around 9pm, when I was sure there'd be no traffic, we flagged down a taxi and headed up the steep roads that lead to Hong Kong Island's highest point.
I've written about it before, and I'm sure I'll write about it again, because the view from the Peak's circular walk is one of the world's greatest. With the twinkling lights below, the stillness of the harbor, the buzz of the city perpetually echoing around you, and a cool breeze blowing, it's not difficult for me to label this my favorite thing about Hong Kong. Maddie seemed equally taken by the vista, and at several points, we just stopped dead in our tracks and gazed out over the glorious metropolis spread before us.
The city below seems so far removed when you stand on Lugard Road and look down, so it's truly astounding that a brisk—though undeniably steep—walk of about thirty minutes takes you directly into the heart of the city. And before we knew it, the Mid-levels Escalator and the bars of SoHo were at our fingertips.
Now nearing 11 o'clock, the night was no longer young. Most of the Thursday evening crowd had already dissipated by the time we arrived, but a few bars were still open and showed signs of life. Staunton's is one of my favorite watering holes in the neighborhood, mostly thanks to its dog-friendly nature and the adjacent steps where you can sip your beer in the open air. So this was the natural spot for our nightcap.
Hungry again—not entirely surprising after the energy exerted on the circular walk and the descent that followed—our thoughts turned to selecting the appropriate venue for a midnight dinner. As we wandered down towards Lyndhurst Terrace, a huge smile beamed across my face when I remembered the existence of Beirut, one of the city's best Lebanese eateries, which stays open late into the night. A platter of five vegetarian appetizers (hummus, stuffed grape leaves, falafel, baba ganoush, and haloumi) plus a duo of shwarmas certainly did the trick, though it's debatable if we needed to eat quite such a huge amount of food at that hour. Anyway, I took Maddie on a quick walking tour of Pottinger Street, Wyndham Street, and Lan Kwai Fong following the successful meal.
By any measure, we'd had an unbelievably busy day. Mix in the reality of the lack of sleep on which we'd been operating, and I suppose it was not really a surprise that neither Maddie nor I was up for a repeat of the previous evening. We hopped in a cab, and I requested that the driver take scenic Kennedy Road back to Happy Valley, so we could close things out with one last memorable view. Back at the flat, it wasn't long before we'd both passed out, and sleep never felt so good.
Just across the street from my apartment—in fact, viewable from the living room windows—is Happy Valley's Wong Nai Chung Municipal Services building, which houses (among other things), our local library, market and, perhaps most importantly, cooked food center. Opening at 6am, the cooked food centre is a true gem, with an assortment of food stalls dishing out delicious breakfasts, lunches and dinners at rock-bottom prices. Although I do enjoy nighttime meals here on occasion, my most frequent visits are in the early morning, because the stalls serve delectable milk teas, ice coffees and bo lo yau (pineapple buns with butter).
So Maddie and I ventured across the street early Friday to indulge in a local feast, sitting down at a table near the first stall in the cavernous room. We each had a bo lo yau, and split one ice milk tea and one ice yuengyeung (a mix of milk tea and coffee). As we were indulging in our breakfasts, a friendly waitress from one of other stalls, recognizing my face from a previous visit, came over to ask if I remembered her. Not only did I remember the waitress, I remembered the bo lo yau she served me on a previous visit, and I decided to order a third bun so we could enjoy a slightly different variety of the incredible pastry.
Full to capacity yet again, we were ready to leave the Valley for another full day of sightseeing. The tram whisked us back to Wan Chai, where I've worked out a walking tour that encircles an amazingly interesting assortment of sights: fish, meat, produce, clothing and souvenir markets, local restaurants, stellar views, an amazing temple, historic buildings and a couple of great bars. With a distinct lack of originality, I've dubbed it the "Wan Chai Circle Tour."
We hopped off the ding ding at Tai Yuen Street, just across from the Johnston Road entrance to Wan Chai's MTR station. The pedestrian-only road is chock full of local stalls, where residents can stock up on basic necessities like clothing and gadgets. I love this market because unlike the touristy ones found elsewhere in town, this place caters mostly to Hong Kongers who visit regularly to purchase things they actually need—not to tourists looking for cheap souvenirs to bring back for family and friends.
Following the market to Spring Garden Lane, we ascended the escalators up into the Hopewell Centre, a cylindrical skyscraper that held the title of tallest building in town between 1980 and 1989. The scenic observation lifts that link floors seventeen and fifty-six offer incredible views out over the city and harbor, so Maddie and I rode up and down three times in a row to soak it all in.
One of the coolest things about the Hopewell Centre—at least to me—is that fact that the hill where it's situated is so steep that the building's front Queen's Road entrance is on the ground floor while the back Kennedy Road entrance is on the seventeenth! My tour enters the building through the former and departs from the latter, as we follow Kennedy Road down towards one of the coolest temples in the city, dedicated to Pak Tai.
Maddie and I spent about fifteen minutes wandering around the various halls and gardens of the spellbinding temple, where immense incense coils waft smoke heavenward and devout locals place offerings of fruits in front of ancient altars.
Just in front of the temple is the Blue House district, a tiny sub-neighborhood of Wan Chai that, in my view, is currently in that rare state of perfect balance between old and new Hong Kong. I've seen it in other parts of town over the past nine years—thus, I know it doesn't last—so I try to spend as much time here as possible before things go too far in the "new" direction.
Right now, you still have the traditional cafes and car repair shops for which the area is known. But you also have a few hip coffee shops and co-working spaces, an uber-trendy Thai restaurant and two bars I absolutely love: Tai Lung Fung and Stone Nullah Tavern. Pretty soon, the local cafes will disappear, turning into expensive cocktail bars. Then the car repair stalls will be forced out, one by one, as landlords raise their rents. In all likelihood, these, too, will be replaced by expensive cocktail bars. And I know in a few years, I'll be lamenting to some future visitor about what used to be. I also know, by that time, another neighborhood will be in its own state of perfect balance, as the Hong Kong transformation continues.
It was just about high noon as we were exploring this fascinating corner of Wan Chai, and that meant the office crowds would soon start pouring out of their buildings for lunch. Lines would be long at most restaurants, so I thought it might be a nice idea to wait this period out in the two above-mentioned bars, so that by the time we were ready to eat, the crowds would have returned to their cubicles and we could have our pick of places without any wait.
Tai Lung Fung is hands down one of Hong Kong's coolest little bars. Nestled mid-way down the lane just behind the Blue House itself, it's an homage to mid-century Hong Kong culture, with its retro posters and knickknacks. The menus are meant to evoke old local newspapers, and the drinks are downright phenomenal. What better venue to celebrate a successful morning and toast to an equally enjoyable afternoon? And what better drink than a French 75?
The Blue House itself dates to the mid-1920s, a timeworn tenement building that now houses a nifty little arts center. I think the old place looks a little too perfect these days. I must confess, I liked the aesthetic of the building much better before its recent restoration, with chipping paint and a general air of elegant decay. Still, it's a very beautiful structure that, very fortunately for locals and visitors alike, has remained standing all these years.
A bar that's the total opposite of Tai Lung Fung sits just across from the Blue House: Stone Nullah Tavern. This is pure Americana, dishing out southern-inspired dishes and serious drinks with a decor of old cigarette ads, license plates, street signs and cow skulls. The cuisine is killer, and although I had a local option in mind for lunch, Stone Nullah dishes out a Buffalo fried oyster that served as our appetizer that afternoon.
In an unexpected moment of sheer bliss, I spied a blackboard behind the bar with a simple message written in chalk, announcing the return of the world's best happy hour deal. I know I've mentioned it before, but a few years ago, this place used to host the most insane "beat the clock" drink special I've ever known. On weeknights from 5pm to 5:20pm, wine, beer and house spirits cost a whopping HKD 1 (approximately thirteen cents); from 5:20pm to 5:40pm, the cost doubled to HKD 2; between 5:40 and 6pm, the price doubled again, to HKD 4. This process continued until 7pm, when drinks finally returned to their standard pricing. But we ruined it. People would order multiple drinks at a time, and just before the next increase, they'd squeeze in another round although they hadn't yet finished the previous one. The crowd was getting so drunk and unruly that the bar ultimately stopped the deal, instituting a much more civilized happy hour that, understandably, was nowhere near as appealing.
"We're going to apply the rules much more firmly this time," the chatty bartender explained to me. "You'll be able to order one drink at a time per person, and you have to bring your empty glass back to the bar when you want to get your next round." The deal starts up again on Monday, and I couldn't be more delighted. Although it's too bad Maddie won't get a chance to partake in this unique Wan Chai ritual, I'm very excited to go back!
It was a short, sweet return to Stone Nullah Tavern, but as the afternoon drew on, it was time to continue our tour. Pointing out the historic Old Wan Chai Post Office as we crossed Queen's Road, I led Maddie into Wan Chai Market—a well-ordered building run by the Food and Environmental Hygiene Department—and finally to a chaotic street of fishmongers and butchers where I take all my out-of-towners.
Tails and tongues, feet and ears, whatever part of whatever animal you want, you can buy it here. See a fish you like swimming around a tank? Simply tell the attendant which one you desire and—with a cigarette dangling from his mouth—he'll grab it with a rubber-gloved hand, clank it over the head with the black of a cleaver, de-scale its body and proceed to remove the innards and filet it on a worn wooden chopping block in full view of the patrons. Two fish met particularly grizzly ends in the span of about five minutes while Maddie and I looked on.
Of course, fruit and vegetable stands, in addition to a few dim sum stalls, also sell far less brutal goods to the marketgoers on this atmospheric little street, which ends back on Johnston Road, in front of the entrance of the MTR. And like that, we were back where we started. Wan Chai Circle Tour, complete.
As we took a shortcut through Southorn Playground towards our lunch venue, a friendly trio of young ladies stopped us to ask if we had a moment to assist in a non-profit project on which they are working, Memes and Friends. They asked Maddie and I to name a few good qualities we are proud to have, and then took photographs of us holding whiteboards with these qualities written across them. It was an unexpected encounter, and a memorable little one, at that.
On bustling Hennessy Road, an unassuming wooden shopfront belies a rare remaining relic of old Hong Kong, and one whose days are sadly numbered. Wing Wah is purported to be one of the last bamboo noodle restaurants in Hong Kong, and it's already announced that 31 August 2018 will be its last day in operation. Opened in 1950, the place has been dishing out dumpling-and-noodle soups for almost seventy years. But its claim to fame is that every day, they still make the noodles themselves in the labor-intensive traditional process, while all but one of its competitors have switched to the machine-made variety.
It's always sad to learn an institution like this is closing its doors; it's even sadder when you weren't even aware the place existed in the first place! But when my friends Jay and Dave mentioned to me last week that a famous noodle stall was closing down at the end of August—and when further research helped me to confirm the exact location and do a bit of research about the signature dishes—I made up my mind that Maddie's trip provided me the perfect opportunity for a first (and likely final) visit to the place.
I must say, it seems like a great marketing tool to announce you're going out of business! Apparently, Wing Wah is closing because of a dwindling customer count, but if it's this crowded at 3pm on a weekday afternoon, maybe they'll decide to stay open after all. We had to share our table in the packed dining room with a pair of strangers and Maddie and I split a bowl of shrimp dumpling noodle soup and a plate of more noodles with ginger and scallion, both of which were very tasty. And it was nice to squeeze this little slice of soon-to-vanish Hong Kong into Maddie's brief jaunt around town.
The plan, originally, was then to take the nearby Star Ferry across to Tsim Sha Tsui, and then to walk to the History Museum. But it was now after 3pm, and the museum closes at 6pm on Fridays. As it was, we'd already be rushed, so we made an executive decision to take the MTR to Kowloon instead of the more leisurely boat. "I promise, we'll take the Star back afterwards," I assured a less-than-concerned Maddie.
The permanent exhibition at the History Museum, called the Hong Kong Story, is now free, though it used to cost HKD 10, or approximately USD 1.30. It divides the entire history of the territory into eight enormous rooms, covering everything from its geological formation, diverse flora and fauna, earliest traces of human activity, the development of traditional folk cultures, the unfair treaties of the Opium Wars, life under British colonial rule, the Japanese Occupation during the Second World War, and the post-war boom that saw Hong Kong re-take its place as one of the world's great cities.
Although twenty-one years have passed since 1997's handover, the museum still concludes with this major milestone. Perhaps a ninth room will soon need to be added to cover all that's come to pass over the last two decades.
With just a little over two hours to squeeze in four hundred million years of history, we certainly didn't get to see everything. But I've visited this museum so many times that I was able to steer our visit to the major highlights so that nothing too important had to be skipped. Hopefully, Maddie comes back to Hong Kong again soon, but either way, I'm glad she got such a high-quality overview about the history of this amazing place.
Walking around bustling TST after closing time, we took a quick minute to pop into Sam's Tailor in the Burlington Arcade on Nathan Road. Given more time, we might have seized the opportunity to get some bespoke clothing made. As it was, we simply spent about five minutes ogling at the photographs of countless celebrities, royals and politicians lining the walls of Kowloon's most renowned tailor.
It was at this point in the evening when I had a most brilliant idea. On my first full day in Chennai back in 2015, Maddie selected Saravanaa Bhavan as the restaurant to provide me with an introduction to the cuisine of south India. I'll never forget that lunch, nor will I forget that the place mat that day listed the restaurant's other worldwide locations, two of which really stood out to me: Edison, New Jersey (about fifteen minutes' drive from where I grew up) and Tsim Sha Tsui, Hong Kong (about fifteen minutes' subway ride from where I live). As blown away as I was by the meal, I remember thinking how ironic it was that I had to travel all the way to India to find the place, when I could have discovered it long ago.
Well, as fate would have it, Sam's Tailor is also in Tsim Sha Tsui, so the restaurant's Hong Kong location on Ashley Road was only about a five minute walk from our current position. Although Maddie said she wasn't too hungry, it would have seemed a pity not to pay a visit, so up we went. We split an order of dahi papdi chaat and a ghee roast masala dosa, complete with sambar, coconut chutney and tomato chutney for dipping.
I had a lovely, refreshing mango lassi while Maddie sipped on fresh lime soda, and although it didn't quite feel just as if we were back in India, there was something undeniably special about feasting on authentic treats from a corner of the world Maddie knows better than anyone else I know. Maddie tried to bust out some of her Tamil prowess, but our waiter turned out to be from Pakistan, so her language skills were lost on him. Still, the deliciousness of the food—and the poignancy of the venue—made for a memorable early dinner.
Also in this neighborhood stands the venerable Peninsula, grande dame of all Hong Kong hotels, hosting visiting potentates since 1928. Although our attire got us turned away from the dark bar on the first floor, it didn't stop us from wandering around the gilt ground floor lobby and hushed corridors of the public areas.
From here, it was a brief expedition across Salisbury Road to the waterfront, where the nightly Symphony of Lights was shortly to commence. Although the Avenue of Stars is still closed for its redevelopment (they say it will reopen next February), the plaza beside TST's famous clock tower in front of the Hong Kong Cultural Centre—where we also ducked inside for a few moments—is still a fabulous vantage point to enjoy the colorful, impressive skyline.
Last December, the Hong Kong Tourism Board redeveloped the laser light spectacular, shortening it from fourteen minutes to around nine, removing the introductory narration and changing the music. Although the skyline is breathtaking no matter what, and the added lights and lasers certainly augment the dazzling nature of the view, I must say, the revamped light show itself certainly seems less stirring than the old version. No visit to Hong Kong is complete without ogling the nighttime view from this waterfront, but I'm not sure I'll be dead set on timing it to coincide with the 8pm show for future visitors.
With the Symphony ended, we re-entered the Cultural Centre and checked out a free little art exhibit before it was at last time for our postponed Star Ferry crossing, as we returned to Hong Kong Island in the most memorable way possible.
Instead of tramming it back to Happy Valley, I suggested to Maddie that we walk, stopping for gai daan jai—the famous Hong Kong egg waffles—along the way. Sampling the traditional street dessert was one of the only things Maddie made clear to me she definitely wanted to do during her time in town, since she had learned about them online in the lead-up to her trip. And this was a natural time to indulge! There's a little stall on Tin Lok Lane that peddles the tasty little morsels (among other treats), so we forked over the HKD 16 for a bag of thirty-two connected spheres of crunchy, satisfying batter.
We continued our homeward wander, munching our tasty treat while walking past an aromatic fruit market and a famous dessert restaurant. About a hundred yard past this first restaurant, we found a recently-opened second dessert restaurant called Luk Lam. We paused for a moment outside, debating whether or not to go in. At this point, we'd already eaten on five separate occasions during the day. Was a sixth really necessary? Not quite necessary, no, but when in Hong Kong... In we went.
Taking our seats in the compact, vibrantly colored, brightly lit restaurant, we began looking through the menu. Maddie and I are both big mango lovers, so a mango pudding in coconut soup was a natural first choice. But by this point in the trip, we'd also spent a great deal of time discussing durian.
Many an expat or foreign visitor get one whiff of a durian's scent and immediately take a dislike to it without ever actually tasting it. To my nose, however, durian smells perfectly pleasant, so nothing stopped me from trying it. Just one bite, and I became a fan right away. Maddie had smelled durian at several times so far, and couldn't quite understand the visceral reaction some people have to it. She said she was happy to sample the fruit itself, so we ordered durian pancakes with taro ice cream.
While we both agreed that the mango pudding was stellar, a few bites of the pancakes taught Maddie that she is not actually much of a durian aficionado, so I was left to consume the bulk of the second dish myself. (For the record, I thought it was pretty fantastic and was happy to do so.)
From Luk Lam, we were soon back in Happy Valley, walking along the racetrack's outer edge towards my apartment. We passed one of the old boundary markers delineating the limits of the city of Victoria, in addition to stately stone entrances—now filled in with concrete blocks— to Le Calvaire, a former orphanage dating to 1906 that also served as a police station and prison during the Japanese Occupation of Hong Kong.
Fredric was, of course, delighted to see us again, and the day was so full that I wasn't actually sure we'd venture out again. A little YouTube session killed a half hour or so before we finally made up our minds to get dressed and hit the town. A Friday night in Hong Kong is a terrible thing to waste, and I'm glad we didn't squander the opportunity, especially since I don't know when Maddie will be back again. (And, just because it's a good excuse to post one of my favorite videos, below I've included one of the Hong Kong compilations I introduced Maddie to as we paused between adventures.)
We hopped on the tram yet again and cruised westward towards Sheung Wan, alighting at the foot of the entrance to the Central Mid-Levels Escalator. We rode all the way up to Elgin Street and then walked over to Staunton Street, where we opened the unmarked doors to Feather Boa, a slightly kitschy cocktail bar with candelabras, busts of French monarchs and oil paintings that look like they belong in Versailles. The specialty here is the fruit daiquiri, of which there are several varietals, all of which come in glasses coated in chocolate powder. Both Maddie and I ordered the strawberry version of the drink, and you can bet that the glasses were not only empty but also licked clean when we put them back on the bar when we were finished.
So we're one drink in on a Friday evening, and I bet you're thinking we immediately grabbed our next round. But you'd be wrong! Instead, we strolled down the road and I took Maddie up to Wing Lee Street, a restored 1960s-style lane that was slated for demolition before a local movie, Echoes of the Rainbow, was filmed there. When it won a prize at the Berlin Film Festival, local authorities instead decided to restore the street, and it now will continue to provide a rare glimpse back in time for locals and visitors who venture to this quiet quarter a few steps from SoHo's pulsating nightlife heart.
Fear not, after our brief side trip, we were back to classy cocktails. Soiree, only a few steps away from Feather Boa, does similarly delicious daiquiris, including a guava one with rose (also served in a chocolate-rimmed glas). But after one round, we decided to join the masses of Friday night revelers in Lan Kwai Fong.
With Al's Diner now sadly a thing of the past, my go-to LKF bar will probably be Le Jardin, where we had a few Gin and Tonics in the open air. It's a place I've been frequenting for years, with a semi-hidden location and very casual ambiance. So I was glad to spend some time there with Maddie.
We then bought a couple of drinks at the lower Club Seven before closing the night at Geronimo's, a popular bar that has one of the best tequila shots I've ever had. Instead of prepping the tequila with salt and then chasing it with a slice of lime, Geronimo's "Kill Bill" replaces the former with a spicy wasabi paste and substitutes a shot glass of tomato juice for the lime. So you lick the wasabi, shoot the tequila and then drink the tomato juice, making for a savory, delicious combination of tastes and flavors.
Shockingly, it was already 4am, and we thought it best to head home at this point. We did pause for a moment, however, as a live sidewalk band performed Valerie at the bottom of D'Aguilar Street. But we then made a beeline to the taxi queue, and were soon fast asleep in Happy Valley after a third fantastic night on the town.
Like that, it was Saturday morning, the early sun drifting through the windows of the flat, signaling it was time for that famous Hong Kong tradition, dim sum. We rode the 1 bus all the way from Happy Valley to Kennedy Town, a long journey but well worth it. There's a dim sum place I recently visited for the first time with my friends Max and Celine, and I knew after that first meal that this was the place I wanted to bring Maddie. We certainly over-ordered, but it was an incredible feast of turnip cakes, har gao, shrimp rice paper rolls, vegetable dumplings and scallion cakes. Washed down with jasmine tea, the tempting little morsels were perfect.
I popped up to visit Max and Celine for a half hour or so, while Maddie wandered the picturesque Kennedy Town waterfront promenade. Then, we met up again for a coffee at Winston's, an uber-popular spot in trendy K-Town. And, then, we had little choice but to taxi home so Maddie could pack.
After loading up on some edible souvenirs at the local supermarket, we made our way to the Airport Express, checked Maddie and her bags in, and squeezed in one final drink (a Weston's cider) on the rooftop of ifc mall. It was all too brief a visit, but one that has left me with fantastic memories. I hope you had just as much fun as I had, Maddie, and please come back again soon. There's so much more in this city I'd love to show you!
In Mamallapuram during Chinese New Year 2015
Maddie touched down in Hong Kong just before 10 o'clock last Wednesday evening, and in the not-quite-three days that quickly followed, we filled the time as fully as possible, with little sleep and lots of action. I'm sure she's sleeping high above the north pole right about now, as Cathay Pacific ferries her back to the States, but I hope the memories are well worth the exhaustion.
Although we were short on time, we surely made the most of the situation. After she let me know she had cleared customs and retrieved her bag from the carousel, I caught a cab from Happy Valley to the Airport Express terminus, and Maddie's train was the very next one to pull in to the station! Non-existant taxi queues meant that within moments, we were en route to the flat, while I pointed out landmarks like the Statue Square—with its Supreme Court Building and Cenotaph—and I. M. Pei's iconic Bank of China Tower.
It's never fun toting luggage up the six steep flights of stairs in my apartment building, but knowing a waggily-tailed pooch was eagerly awaiting our entry to the flat made the climb worthwhile. Just as I expected, Maddie and Fredric hit it off in an instant, and we humans split a San Miguel on the rooftop while the canine romped about playing with the empty can.
I didn't want to force any partying upon Maddie unless she was up for it, but I must confess that I was elated when she expressed an interest in dipping her toe into Hong Kong's famous nightlife scene. It was a Wednesday night, after all, and although the mid-week horse racing meetings have stopped for the summer, Wan Chai still kicks back with its popular Ladies Night festivities as usual. So with moments to spare, we caught the evening's final tram out of the Valley as we glided towards the string of bars lining Lockhart and Jaffe Roads.
Devil's Advocate is still a perennial favorite of mine, after all these years. The "Standard Chartered Twenty" promotion I've written about before has been dumbed down of late. So instead of needing a specific bank-issued note to enjoy the crazy discount, any twenty will now do—whether issued by Bank of China, HSBC of Standard Chartered. Between Maddie and myself, we cobbled together four of the bills, which we redeemed for two rounds of Gin and Tonic while we continued to fill each other in on what had gone on in our lives over the past three-and-a-half years.
As we got to the bottom of our second round, we realized that the crowd both inside and in front of Devil's had dwindled down to a mere handful. But just across the street, Carnegie's really seemed to be hopping. To get a better look, we migrated across Lockhart Road, where we settled in amidst the throngs of teenagers for whom this stretch of sidewalk is a natural habitat. And although we didn't venture inside the bar, we did linger amidst the rabble for a bit, taking advantage of some of the best people watching a Wan Chai Wednesday has to offer.
At last, it was time to introduce Maddie to Hong Kong cuisine, so we settled in to a booth at the nearby Hay Hay Kitchen, with its mercifully long opening hours. As would become a theme over the days to follow, we didn't exactly do a good job of gauging our hunger, over-ordering an assortment of local favorites, including honey glazed char siu, vegetable fried rice, tangy fish curry and shrimp wontons—and a jumbo bottle of Tsing Tao for good measure!
Maddie's a pescatarian, so this was all mine!
With out stomachs now lined, we were ready for further merrymaking, so with a white plastic doggie bag stacked with three Styrofoam boxes of leftovers, I suggested we duck into Dusk Till Dawn, with its live Filipino cover band and pulsating ambiance. Next up was a brief visit to Amazonia, followed by a pit stop at one of the numerous "Club Sevens" that stud this area of Hong Kong.
Dusk Till Dawn
It was just so great to be with Maddie again, hearing about her life in Indiana, and reminiscing over our shared memories of Villanova and India. And, of course, outlining the fun that lay ahead over the next days. But sitting on the stoop watching the skies gradually lighten, Maddie and I eventually decided to return home via the first tram. It had turned into a whale of a night, and if we weren't careful, we might forfeit out ability to take full advantage of Thursday. So we meandered up to Hennessy Road, where a Happy Valley-bound ding ding arrived a few moments later.
Reflecting in Club Seven
I finished the delicious char siu during our ride, and you can bet Fredric was delighted to see us again at home—especially when we decided the fried rice that had miraculously survived the journey would be a perfect early morning snack for the little mutt.
The next morning (i.e. a few hours later), Maddie and I were surprisingly chipper. After showering and getting ready for the day, we made a beeline for Happy Alley, my 'hood's most charming coffee bar. The Austrian java they dish out is among the best in town, as are the barristas, and the true neighborhood feel the place exudes helped me demonstrate to Maddie why I love the Valley so much.
I had booked both Thursday and Friday off from work, and Cheung Chau was the main objective for this first full day. As you know, I just love that tiny little island, with its colorful lanes, killer seafood restaurants, vibrant fisher folk and the juxtaposition of the island's simplicity alongside the modernity of the rest of Hong Kong. So it was an absolute joy to watch Maddie slowly discover the place's subtle charms.
Fredric on the ferry
We plopped down at a waterfront table of New Baccarat, situated at the far end of the meandering waterfront praya, with a view out over the hundreds of boats bobbing up and down in Cheung Chau's coloful harbor. Of course, while the staff of New Baccarat never fails to hand out menus listing their dishes, it's much more fun to select your lunch directly from the tanks of live sea critters abutting the restaurants front door, ranging from pomfret and garoupa to crab, lobster, scallops and other assorted shellfish.
Cheung Chau's harbor
A meal here is one of Hong Kong's pure, unadulterated pleasures. In almost nine years of visits to New Baccarat—having dined there with friends, family and, on occasion, even alone—I've never walked away anything but convinced I've just feasted upon some of the world's freshest, most delicious seafood. That day, we chose a beautiful whole local garoupa, incredible salt-and-pepper squid and heavenly steamed scallops besmeared with heaps of garlic. Unlike the night before, a doggie bag was entirely unnecessary, since not a single morsel of any dish went unconsumed.
Whole steamed garoupa, picked fresh from the tank
The rest of our day on Cheung Chau was filled with exploration, as Maddie, Fredric and I made our way all around the island. We ducked into the historic main temple, crisscrossed the web of pedestrian-only lanes, indulged in creative ice coffees from Valor, paid a visit to the beaches, stopped for a break at the lovely, relaxed Windsurfer Cafe, strolled along Peak Road, and fit in a snack of curry fish balls and mango mochi.
Cheung Chau scenes
And just before catching the ferry to Central, I took a moment to show Maddie the old, crumbling Cheung Chau cinema, built in 1928. Now ceiling-less and overgrown with weeds, the building still exudes traces of its art deco elegance that I find simply irresistible. I'm not embarrassed to admit my pipe dream of one day restoring the building to it's former glory and turning into a screening room spotlighting classic movies, like would have originally flickered across its screen.
My future cinema
Since we arrived back just around the height of the evening rush hour, we decided to pause for a drink at Beer Bay beside Pier 3 before proceeding onward to our next destination, Victoria Peak. Around 9pm, when I was sure there'd be no traffic, we flagged down a taxi and headed up the steep roads that lead to Hong Kong Island's highest point.
I've written about it before, and I'm sure I'll write about it again, because the view from the Peak's circular walk is one of the world's greatest. With the twinkling lights below, the stillness of the harbor, the buzz of the city perpetually echoing around you, and a cool breeze blowing, it's not difficult for me to label this my favorite thing about Hong Kong. Maddie seemed equally taken by the vista, and at several points, we just stopped dead in our tracks and gazed out over the glorious metropolis spread before us.
The view from the Peak
The city below seems so far removed when you stand on Lugard Road and look down, so it's truly astounding that a brisk—though undeniably steep—walk of about thirty minutes takes you directly into the heart of the city. And before we knew it, the Mid-levels Escalator and the bars of SoHo were at our fingertips.
Now nearing 11 o'clock, the night was no longer young. Most of the Thursday evening crowd had already dissipated by the time we arrived, but a few bars were still open and showed signs of life. Staunton's is one of my favorite watering holes in the neighborhood, mostly thanks to its dog-friendly nature and the adjacent steps where you can sip your beer in the open air. So this was the natural spot for our nightcap.
Hungry again—not entirely surprising after the energy exerted on the circular walk and the descent that followed—our thoughts turned to selecting the appropriate venue for a midnight dinner. As we wandered down towards Lyndhurst Terrace, a huge smile beamed across my face when I remembered the existence of Beirut, one of the city's best Lebanese eateries, which stays open late into the night. A platter of five vegetarian appetizers (hummus, stuffed grape leaves, falafel, baba ganoush, and haloumi) plus a duo of shwarmas certainly did the trick, though it's debatable if we needed to eat quite such a huge amount of food at that hour. Anyway, I took Maddie on a quick walking tour of Pottinger Street, Wyndham Street, and Lan Kwai Fong following the successful meal.
By any measure, we'd had an unbelievably busy day. Mix in the reality of the lack of sleep on which we'd been operating, and I suppose it was not really a surprise that neither Maddie nor I was up for a repeat of the previous evening. We hopped in a cab, and I requested that the driver take scenic Kennedy Road back to Happy Valley, so we could close things out with one last memorable view. Back at the flat, it wasn't long before we'd both passed out, and sleep never felt so good.
Just across the street from my apartment—in fact, viewable from the living room windows—is Happy Valley's Wong Nai Chung Municipal Services building, which houses (among other things), our local library, market and, perhaps most importantly, cooked food center. Opening at 6am, the cooked food centre is a true gem, with an assortment of food stalls dishing out delicious breakfasts, lunches and dinners at rock-bottom prices. Although I do enjoy nighttime meals here on occasion, my most frequent visits are in the early morning, because the stalls serve delectable milk teas, ice coffees and bo lo yau (pineapple buns with butter).
So Maddie and I ventured across the street early Friday to indulge in a local feast, sitting down at a table near the first stall in the cavernous room. We each had a bo lo yau, and split one ice milk tea and one ice yuengyeung (a mix of milk tea and coffee). As we were indulging in our breakfasts, a friendly waitress from one of other stalls, recognizing my face from a previous visit, came over to ask if I remembered her. Not only did I remember the waitress, I remembered the bo lo yau she served me on a previous visit, and I decided to order a third bun so we could enjoy a slightly different variety of the incredible pastry.
Full to capacity yet again, we were ready to leave the Valley for another full day of sightseeing. The tram whisked us back to Wan Chai, where I've worked out a walking tour that encircles an amazingly interesting assortment of sights: fish, meat, produce, clothing and souvenir markets, local restaurants, stellar views, an amazing temple, historic buildings and a couple of great bars. With a distinct lack of originality, I've dubbed it the "Wan Chai Circle Tour."
We hopped off the ding ding at Tai Yuen Street, just across from the Johnston Road entrance to Wan Chai's MTR station. The pedestrian-only road is chock full of local stalls, where residents can stock up on basic necessities like clothing and gadgets. I love this market because unlike the touristy ones found elsewhere in town, this place caters mostly to Hong Kongers who visit regularly to purchase things they actually need—not to tourists looking for cheap souvenirs to bring back for family and friends.
Following the market to Spring Garden Lane, we ascended the escalators up into the Hopewell Centre, a cylindrical skyscraper that held the title of tallest building in town between 1980 and 1989. The scenic observation lifts that link floors seventeen and fifty-six offer incredible views out over the city and harbor, so Maddie and I rode up and down three times in a row to soak it all in.
One of the coolest things about the Hopewell Centre—at least to me—is that fact that the hill where it's situated is so steep that the building's front Queen's Road entrance is on the ground floor while the back Kennedy Road entrance is on the seventeenth! My tour enters the building through the former and departs from the latter, as we follow Kennedy Road down towards one of the coolest temples in the city, dedicated to Pak Tai.
Pak Tai Temple, Wan Chai
Maddie and I spent about fifteen minutes wandering around the various halls and gardens of the spellbinding temple, where immense incense coils waft smoke heavenward and devout locals place offerings of fruits in front of ancient altars.
An opening in the temple's ceiling
Just in front of the temple is the Blue House district, a tiny sub-neighborhood of Wan Chai that, in my view, is currently in that rare state of perfect balance between old and new Hong Kong. I've seen it in other parts of town over the past nine years—thus, I know it doesn't last—so I try to spend as much time here as possible before things go too far in the "new" direction.
Right now, you still have the traditional cafes and car repair shops for which the area is known. But you also have a few hip coffee shops and co-working spaces, an uber-trendy Thai restaurant and two bars I absolutely love: Tai Lung Fung and Stone Nullah Tavern. Pretty soon, the local cafes will disappear, turning into expensive cocktail bars. Then the car repair stalls will be forced out, one by one, as landlords raise their rents. In all likelihood, these, too, will be replaced by expensive cocktail bars. And I know in a few years, I'll be lamenting to some future visitor about what used to be. I also know, by that time, another neighborhood will be in its own state of perfect balance, as the Hong Kong transformation continues.
It was just about high noon as we were exploring this fascinating corner of Wan Chai, and that meant the office crowds would soon start pouring out of their buildings for lunch. Lines would be long at most restaurants, so I thought it might be a nice idea to wait this period out in the two above-mentioned bars, so that by the time we were ready to eat, the crowds would have returned to their cubicles and we could have our pick of places without any wait.
Tai Lung Fung is hands down one of Hong Kong's coolest little bars. Nestled mid-way down the lane just behind the Blue House itself, it's an homage to mid-century Hong Kong culture, with its retro posters and knickknacks. The menus are meant to evoke old local newspapers, and the drinks are downright phenomenal. What better venue to celebrate a successful morning and toast to an equally enjoyable afternoon? And what better drink than a French 75?
The Blue House itself dates to the mid-1920s, a timeworn tenement building that now houses a nifty little arts center. I think the old place looks a little too perfect these days. I must confess, I liked the aesthetic of the building much better before its recent restoration, with chipping paint and a general air of elegant decay. Still, it's a very beautiful structure that, very fortunately for locals and visitors alike, has remained standing all these years.
A bar that's the total opposite of Tai Lung Fung sits just across from the Blue House: Stone Nullah Tavern. This is pure Americana, dishing out southern-inspired dishes and serious drinks with a decor of old cigarette ads, license plates, street signs and cow skulls. The cuisine is killer, and although I had a local option in mind for lunch, Stone Nullah dishes out a Buffalo fried oyster that served as our appetizer that afternoon.
Buffalo fried oysters in Stone Nullah Tavern
In an unexpected moment of sheer bliss, I spied a blackboard behind the bar with a simple message written in chalk, announcing the return of the world's best happy hour deal. I know I've mentioned it before, but a few years ago, this place used to host the most insane "beat the clock" drink special I've ever known. On weeknights from 5pm to 5:20pm, wine, beer and house spirits cost a whopping HKD 1 (approximately thirteen cents); from 5:20pm to 5:40pm, the cost doubled to HKD 2; between 5:40 and 6pm, the price doubled again, to HKD 4. This process continued until 7pm, when drinks finally returned to their standard pricing. But we ruined it. People would order multiple drinks at a time, and just before the next increase, they'd squeeze in another round although they hadn't yet finished the previous one. The crowd was getting so drunk and unruly that the bar ultimately stopped the deal, instituting a much more civilized happy hour that, understandably, was nowhere near as appealing.
"We're going to apply the rules much more firmly this time," the chatty bartender explained to me. "You'll be able to order one drink at a time per person, and you have to bring your empty glass back to the bar when you want to get your next round." The deal starts up again on Monday, and I couldn't be more delighted. Although it's too bad Maddie won't get a chance to partake in this unique Wan Chai ritual, I'm very excited to go back!
It was a short, sweet return to Stone Nullah Tavern, but as the afternoon drew on, it was time to continue our tour. Pointing out the historic Old Wan Chai Post Office as we crossed Queen's Road, I led Maddie into Wan Chai Market—a well-ordered building run by the Food and Environmental Hygiene Department—and finally to a chaotic street of fishmongers and butchers where I take all my out-of-towners.
Tails and tongues, feet and ears, whatever part of whatever animal you want, you can buy it here. See a fish you like swimming around a tank? Simply tell the attendant which one you desire and—with a cigarette dangling from his mouth—he'll grab it with a rubber-gloved hand, clank it over the head with the black of a cleaver, de-scale its body and proceed to remove the innards and filet it on a worn wooden chopping block in full view of the patrons. Two fish met particularly grizzly ends in the span of about five minutes while Maddie and I looked on.
Of course, fruit and vegetable stands, in addition to a few dim sum stalls, also sell far less brutal goods to the marketgoers on this atmospheric little street, which ends back on Johnston Road, in front of the entrance of the MTR. And like that, we were back where we started. Wan Chai Circle Tour, complete.
As we took a shortcut through Southorn Playground towards our lunch venue, a friendly trio of young ladies stopped us to ask if we had a moment to assist in a non-profit project on which they are working, Memes and Friends. They asked Maddie and I to name a few good qualities we are proud to have, and then took photographs of us holding whiteboards with these qualities written across them. It was an unexpected encounter, and a memorable little one, at that.
#memesandfriends
On bustling Hennessy Road, an unassuming wooden shopfront belies a rare remaining relic of old Hong Kong, and one whose days are sadly numbered. Wing Wah is purported to be one of the last bamboo noodle restaurants in Hong Kong, and it's already announced that 31 August 2018 will be its last day in operation. Opened in 1950, the place has been dishing out dumpling-and-noodle soups for almost seventy years. But its claim to fame is that every day, they still make the noodles themselves in the labor-intensive traditional process, while all but one of its competitors have switched to the machine-made variety.
It's always sad to learn an institution like this is closing its doors; it's even sadder when you weren't even aware the place existed in the first place! But when my friends Jay and Dave mentioned to me last week that a famous noodle stall was closing down at the end of August—and when further research helped me to confirm the exact location and do a bit of research about the signature dishes—I made up my mind that Maddie's trip provided me the perfect opportunity for a first (and likely final) visit to the place.
Sign outside of Wing Wah
I must say, it seems like a great marketing tool to announce you're going out of business! Apparently, Wing Wah is closing because of a dwindling customer count, but if it's this crowded at 3pm on a weekday afternoon, maybe they'll decide to stay open after all. We had to share our table in the packed dining room with a pair of strangers and Maddie and I split a bowl of shrimp dumpling noodle soup and a plate of more noodles with ginger and scallion, both of which were very tasty. And it was nice to squeeze this little slice of soon-to-vanish Hong Kong into Maddie's brief jaunt around town.
The plan, originally, was then to take the nearby Star Ferry across to Tsim Sha Tsui, and then to walk to the History Museum. But it was now after 3pm, and the museum closes at 6pm on Fridays. As it was, we'd already be rushed, so we made an executive decision to take the MTR to Kowloon instead of the more leisurely boat. "I promise, we'll take the Star back afterwards," I assured a less-than-concerned Maddie.
The permanent exhibition at the History Museum, called the Hong Kong Story, is now free, though it used to cost HKD 10, or approximately USD 1.30. It divides the entire history of the territory into eight enormous rooms, covering everything from its geological formation, diverse flora and fauna, earliest traces of human activity, the development of traditional folk cultures, the unfair treaties of the Opium Wars, life under British colonial rule, the Japanese Occupation during the Second World War, and the post-war boom that saw Hong Kong re-take its place as one of the world's great cities.
One of the exhibits in the History Museum
Although twenty-one years have passed since 1997's handover, the museum still concludes with this major milestone. Perhaps a ninth room will soon need to be added to cover all that's come to pass over the last two decades.
With just a little over two hours to squeeze in four hundred million years of history, we certainly didn't get to see everything. But I've visited this museum so many times that I was able to steer our visit to the major highlights so that nothing too important had to be skipped. Hopefully, Maddie comes back to Hong Kong again soon, but either way, I'm glad she got such a high-quality overview about the history of this amazing place.
Walking around bustling TST after closing time, we took a quick minute to pop into Sam's Tailor in the Burlington Arcade on Nathan Road. Given more time, we might have seized the opportunity to get some bespoke clothing made. As it was, we simply spent about five minutes ogling at the photographs of countless celebrities, royals and politicians lining the walls of Kowloon's most renowned tailor.
It was at this point in the evening when I had a most brilliant idea. On my first full day in Chennai back in 2015, Maddie selected Saravanaa Bhavan as the restaurant to provide me with an introduction to the cuisine of south India. I'll never forget that lunch, nor will I forget that the place mat that day listed the restaurant's other worldwide locations, two of which really stood out to me: Edison, New Jersey (about fifteen minutes' drive from where I grew up) and Tsim Sha Tsui, Hong Kong (about fifteen minutes' subway ride from where I live). As blown away as I was by the meal, I remember thinking how ironic it was that I had to travel all the way to India to find the place, when I could have discovered it long ago.
Well, as fate would have it, Sam's Tailor is also in Tsim Sha Tsui, so the restaurant's Hong Kong location on Ashley Road was only about a five minute walk from our current position. Although Maddie said she wasn't too hungry, it would have seemed a pity not to pay a visit, so up we went. We split an order of dahi papdi chaat and a ghee roast masala dosa, complete with sambar, coconut chutney and tomato chutney for dipping.
Dahi papdi chaat
Look at that dhosa! A throwback to Tamil Nadu!
From here, it was a brief expedition across Salisbury Road to the waterfront, where the nightly Symphony of Lights was shortly to commence. Although the Avenue of Stars is still closed for its redevelopment (they say it will reopen next February), the plaza beside TST's famous clock tower in front of the Hong Kong Cultural Centre—where we also ducked inside for a few moments—is still a fabulous vantage point to enjoy the colorful, impressive skyline.
Skyline from TST
Last December, the Hong Kong Tourism Board redeveloped the laser light spectacular, shortening it from fourteen minutes to around nine, removing the introductory narration and changing the music. Although the skyline is breathtaking no matter what, and the added lights and lasers certainly augment the dazzling nature of the view, I must say, the revamped light show itself certainly seems less stirring than the old version. No visit to Hong Kong is complete without ogling the nighttime view from this waterfront, but I'm not sure I'll be dead set on timing it to coincide with the 8pm show for future visitors.
With the Symphony ended, we re-entered the Cultural Centre and checked out a free little art exhibit before it was at last time for our postponed Star Ferry crossing, as we returned to Hong Kong Island in the most memorable way possible.
Instead of tramming it back to Happy Valley, I suggested to Maddie that we walk, stopping for gai daan jai—the famous Hong Kong egg waffles—along the way. Sampling the traditional street dessert was one of the only things Maddie made clear to me she definitely wanted to do during her time in town, since she had learned about them online in the lead-up to her trip. And this was a natural time to indulge! There's a little stall on Tin Lok Lane that peddles the tasty little morsels (among other treats), so we forked over the HKD 16 for a bag of thirty-two connected spheres of crunchy, satisfying batter.
Hot, fresh gai daan jai
We continued our homeward wander, munching our tasty treat while walking past an aromatic fruit market and a famous dessert restaurant. About a hundred yard past this first restaurant, we found a recently-opened second dessert restaurant called Luk Lam. We paused for a moment outside, debating whether or not to go in. At this point, we'd already eaten on five separate occasions during the day. Was a sixth really necessary? Not quite necessary, no, but when in Hong Kong... In we went.
Taking our seats in the compact, vibrantly colored, brightly lit restaurant, we began looking through the menu. Maddie and I are both big mango lovers, so a mango pudding in coconut soup was a natural first choice. But by this point in the trip, we'd also spent a great deal of time discussing durian.
Mango pudding
Many an expat or foreign visitor get one whiff of a durian's scent and immediately take a dislike to it without ever actually tasting it. To my nose, however, durian smells perfectly pleasant, so nothing stopped me from trying it. Just one bite, and I became a fan right away. Maddie had smelled durian at several times so far, and couldn't quite understand the visceral reaction some people have to it. She said she was happy to sample the fruit itself, so we ordered durian pancakes with taro ice cream.
While we both agreed that the mango pudding was stellar, a few bites of the pancakes taught Maddie that she is not actually much of a durian aficionado, so I was left to consume the bulk of the second dish myself. (For the record, I thought it was pretty fantastic and was happy to do so.)
Durian pancakes
From Luk Lam, we were soon back in Happy Valley, walking along the racetrack's outer edge towards my apartment. We passed one of the old boundary markers delineating the limits of the city of Victoria, in addition to stately stone entrances—now filled in with concrete blocks— to Le Calvaire, a former orphanage dating to 1906 that also served as a police station and prison during the Japanese Occupation of Hong Kong.
Fredric was, of course, delighted to see us again, and the day was so full that I wasn't actually sure we'd venture out again. A little YouTube session killed a half hour or so before we finally made up our minds to get dressed and hit the town. A Friday night in Hong Kong is a terrible thing to waste, and I'm glad we didn't squander the opportunity, especially since I don't know when Maddie will be back again. (And, just because it's a good excuse to post one of my favorite videos, below I've included one of the Hong Kong compilations I introduced Maddie to as we paused between adventures.)
"So Long, My Hong Kong" by Gregory Kane
We hopped on the tram yet again and cruised westward towards Sheung Wan, alighting at the foot of the entrance to the Central Mid-Levels Escalator. We rode all the way up to Elgin Street and then walked over to Staunton Street, where we opened the unmarked doors to Feather Boa, a slightly kitschy cocktail bar with candelabras, busts of French monarchs and oil paintings that look like they belong in Versailles. The specialty here is the fruit daiquiri, of which there are several varietals, all of which come in glasses coated in chocolate powder. Both Maddie and I ordered the strawberry version of the drink, and you can bet that the glasses were not only empty but also licked clean when we put them back on the bar when we were finished.
So we're one drink in on a Friday evening, and I bet you're thinking we immediately grabbed our next round. But you'd be wrong! Instead, we strolled down the road and I took Maddie up to Wing Lee Street, a restored 1960s-style lane that was slated for demolition before a local movie, Echoes of the Rainbow, was filmed there. When it won a prize at the Berlin Film Festival, local authorities instead decided to restore the street, and it now will continue to provide a rare glimpse back in time for locals and visitors who venture to this quiet quarter a few steps from SoHo's pulsating nightlife heart.
Fear not, after our brief side trip, we were back to classy cocktails. Soiree, only a few steps away from Feather Boa, does similarly delicious daiquiris, including a guava one with rose (also served in a chocolate-rimmed glas). But after one round, we decided to join the masses of Friday night revelers in Lan Kwai Fong.
Amazing LKF moment
With Al's Diner now sadly a thing of the past, my go-to LKF bar will probably be Le Jardin, where we had a few Gin and Tonics in the open air. It's a place I've been frequenting for years, with a semi-hidden location and very casual ambiance. So I was glad to spend some time there with Maddie.
Le Jardin
We then bought a couple of drinks at the lower Club Seven before closing the night at Geronimo's, a popular bar that has one of the best tequila shots I've ever had. Instead of prepping the tequila with salt and then chasing it with a slice of lime, Geronimo's "Kill Bill" replaces the former with a spicy wasabi paste and substitutes a shot glass of tomato juice for the lime. So you lick the wasabi, shoot the tequila and then drink the tomato juice, making for a savory, delicious combination of tastes and flavors.
Kill Bills
Shockingly, it was already 4am, and we thought it best to head home at this point. We did pause for a moment, however, as a live sidewalk band performed Valerie at the bottom of D'Aguilar Street. But we then made a beeline to the taxi queue, and were soon fast asleep in Happy Valley after a third fantastic night on the town.
A live performance of Valerie
Like that, it was Saturday morning, the early sun drifting through the windows of the flat, signaling it was time for that famous Hong Kong tradition, dim sum. We rode the 1 bus all the way from Happy Valley to Kennedy Town, a long journey but well worth it. There's a dim sum place I recently visited for the first time with my friends Max and Celine, and I knew after that first meal that this was the place I wanted to bring Maddie. We certainly over-ordered, but it was an incredible feast of turnip cakes, har gao, shrimp rice paper rolls, vegetable dumplings and scallion cakes. Washed down with jasmine tea, the tempting little morsels were perfect.
Dim sum in Kennedy Town!
I popped up to visit Max and Celine for a half hour or so, while Maddie wandered the picturesque Kennedy Town waterfront promenade. Then, we met up again for a coffee at Winston's, an uber-popular spot in trendy K-Town. And, then, we had little choice but to taxi home so Maddie could pack.
A cappuccino at Winston's
After loading up on some edible souvenirs at the local supermarket, we made our way to the Airport Express, checked Maddie and her bags in, and squeezed in one final drink (a Weston's cider) on the rooftop of ifc mall. It was all too brief a visit, but one that has left me with fantastic memories. I hope you had just as much fun as I had, Maddie, and please come back again soon. There's so much more in this city I'd love to show you!
