I slept like shit last night and had a series of disturbing and embarrassing dreams. I finally gave up trying at about 5 am and waited reading outside the dining room until seven when it opened and I could get my my usual travel breakfast of croissants, jam, hot chocolate and a fat stack of watermelon. I had a lot to do today (buy a cell phone, a camera, a back back and exchange some money but obviously not in that order) so I hit the streets promptly after breakfast. The streets were packed with morning commuters but unfortunately I discovered that nothing in Hong Kong opens until 9 or 10. I sat around bored for a while people watching and reading off and on before I discovered what would become my favorite early morning past time. I stationed myself at a bus stop or ferry terminal or cross walk and waited for the inevitable huge crowd to gather and then weaseled myself into the middle of the press of bodies until my arms were literally pinned at my sides. Then I blasted The Talking Heads through my head phones and allowed myself to be carried along with the crowd. Needless to say this was bliss and the hours passed quickly until all of the little shops on Cameron Street were open. I spent my morning getting back into the habit of bargaining and picked up a book bag, the cell phone, camera and a new guide book.
After a busy morning shopping I made my way to the ferry building and took the Star ferry over to Hong Kong island where I climbed up through the heat to a famous roast goose restaurant I had read about. It was your typical red and gold many-floored Chinese restaurant complete with a mirrored elevator and smiling greeters in chang po (defiantly not the right word). I ordered some crispy roast goose and a plate of spicy shrimp and settled in with my book. To be honest I had been dreading having to eat my meals alone but as it turns out I LOVE eating alone. Ordering at my leisure, drinking pots and pots of tea, reading and writing with all of the dishes spread out around me slowly picking my way through mounds of shrimps and goose fat. It was heaven. I still hadn't been able to completely shake my jet lag so after my two hour lunch I took the subway back over to Kowloon and napped until evening.
At about eight o clock I awoke to find the tv blaring and decided it was time to get into a bit of trouble. I made my way to an Irish pub I had passed earlier in the day and enjoyed a few Guinnesses while trying to learn Cantonese from the bar tender. Feeling sufficiently fortified I made my way by subway back to Hong Kong island and into the first non-brothel bar I saw, Banana Joe's. There I sat next to two British Indians (Tako, and Sunny) who had lived in Hong Kong since they were five years old. They introduced me to the bar tender (a mutual friend) and we passed the time toasting and buying each other tequila shots. Things were going smoothly enough until Sunny called the German girl standing behind me a Nazi and refused to stop doing the Nazi salute to her. I tactfully removed myself from their company and apologized to the group of Germans. It turned out that they, believe it or not, were a group of new flight Lufthansa flight stewardesses who were in Hong Kong for one night and we hit it off splendidly. After trading tequila shots and toasts with them for an hour I found myself far too hungry to keep up my original drinking pace and made my way to a Thai street stall I had seen and bought a bowl of spicy noodles (words, even words like bangin, cannot describe how good they were) but after my meal I could not find the bar again. I hailed a cab to ask what time it was and when he said 4am I decided I might as well head home so in the cab, through the tunnel under the harbour and to bed.
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