How did I happen to end up here?
I’d just finished my tour travelling down the east coast of Australia, when my parents messaged me to say they had booked a cruise around East Asia (because they are now apparently at ‘that’ age) and which was going to stop in Hong Kong for a few nights.
Having not seen my parents in a few months, and being fortunate enough to still have the option to spontaneously fly across the world to make memories with them, it was a bit of a no-brainer.
Money comes and goes. Time with the people you love doesn’t.
And I’m increasingly aware that making the most of that time is something I don’t want to take lightly.
Apparently, neither is my luggage allowance.
By this point, my total perception of time and travel (sadly, not at the same time, otherwise I would have saved myself a lot of $$$) changed after spending over a month backpacking; I’d taken flights on a whim, slept on seventeen-hour buses (which was every bit as horrific as it sounds), booked bunk beds approximately three minutes before check-in and generally making decisions based on the question: “How bad could it be?”
So, I thought, buggar it!
I’d already packed up my entire life and made a 24-hour trip to move to the other side of the world, so a 7-hour flight felt like light work.
Plus, the thought of temporarily escaping hostels and bunk beds was far too tempting.
Insider Info:
When I got to the airport to check in, I did what any delusional person does… I asked for a free update to first class.
They said no.
But if you don’t ask, you don’t get.
And if you do ask and they say no, you’re exactly where you started.
Oh well.
I had another way to get my moneys worth in mind…
I’m not sure if this qualifies as a travel hack, but I’m going to share it anyway because I’m nothing if not generous.
When you’re travelling long haul, food and beverages are generally included. It says so in the small print on the menu. And we all know you must always read the small print.
What it doesn’t say is that you have to wait for the trolley that will most likely only come down the aisle twice (going down an isle once was enough for me).
So, I sat, I stayed in my seat until the seat belt sign went off, and then I swanned off to find myself a stewardess.
“I’ll take two beers please”.
There was no questioning why I wanted two beers. Probably because they hadn’t yet realised I was travelling alone. And not that I need to justify myself, but my logic was sound.
By the time I was ready for another drink, the trolley would only just be making its way down the aisle (again, not something I’ll be doing again any time soon) and given the plane was packed, I was merely planning ahead.
Hydration is important, after all.
Hello Hong Kong
Hong Kong is, hectic.
I’m still undecided as to whether this is a good thing or a bad thing.
Perhaps because I’d just spent a month travelling through deserted beaches, tiny tourist towns and wide-open spaces, the sudden transition was slightly jarring.
From having enough personal space to swing a cat to having approximately four centimetres of pavement to manoeuvre through.
There are buildings on top of buildings, streets stacked on top of streets and enough people moving in every direction to make you question whether you are, in fact, walking with purpose or simply being carried along by the crowd.
Then, there is the ‘smell’.
The streets are full of something frying, steaming, baking, boiling or being cooked in a way I couldn’t identify.
Most of the time, it was sensational.
Other times, well… I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I saw and smelt a few things which I firmly believe should have been investigated by Environmental Health.
Oh, and the noise.
Hong Kong doesn’t do quite. It beeps. It buzzes. It bangs. The traffic is terrifying. People are pushing past on every pavement. And the construction is constant, and very concerning.
Underneath all the chaos, there is something incredibly exciting about being somewhere that doesn’t seem remotely interested in slowing down for you.
You either keep up or get out of the way.
But First, Breakfast.
I’d fallen into the Instagram trap. You know the one.
You search “best things to do in Hong Kong” and suddenly you’re being served seventeen reels telling you how to spend the perfect three days in the city. And frankly, I had no intention of following someone else’s 3 day itinerary to the minute.
I wanted to wander. I wanted to eat. I wanted to accidentally end up somewhere I hadn’t seen on Instagram. And, most importantly, I wanted breakfast.
Then I saw the Australian Dairy Company.
And no, absolutely nothing to do with Australia at all. But having just travelled from Aus, you get the irony.
But calling it a café doesn’t really do it justice. It’s an experience.
I’d actually walked past it on my first day while wandering around trying to get my bearings.
The queue was… questionable.
There was a line of people stretching outside and, frankly, I wasn’t sure what could possibly be inside that was worth waiting that long for. A cup of tea? Some eggs? Pancakes? Absolutely not.
I was not queuing for breakfast. I had standards. Or, more accurately, I was hangry.
So I made a deal with myself. I was absolutely going to try it. But my “breakfast fix” was going to have to be a little more strategically timed. And by strategically timed, I mean I was going to come back at a time when everyone else had apparently decided breakfast was over. Which, as it turns out, was the correct decision.
I returned later in the week, walked straight in and was immediately ushered towards a table with the efficiency of someone who had absolutely no interest in whether I was ready or not.
This was not brunch. There was no avocado toast. No sourdough. No “Would you like still or sparkling?” No one was asking me how my morning was. This was breakfast as a military operation. And I loved it.
One Bite at a Time
One of my favourite things about Hong Kong was that food didn’t really feel like an activity. It was just… life.
You’d turn a corner and there would be a tiny shop selling something you’d never seen before. You’d walk another five minutes and find yourself standing outside somewhere that had been there for decades. You’d smell something incredible coming from a side street and, naturally, you’d have to investigate.
My itinerary quickly became less “Top 10 things to see in Hong Kong” and more “What smells good?” Which, in my opinion, is a much better way to travel.
I found myself eating rice rolls, drinking milk tea, trying things I couldn’t pronounce and generally following my stomach around the city. And this is probably where Hong Kong really won me over.
It wasn’t necessarily the big-ticket sights. It was the tiny moments.
Standing in a busy street with a paper bag of food. Squeezing onto public transport. Getting completely lost and pretending I meant to. Watching people rush around me while I wandered around with absolutely nowhere I needed to be.
After a month of backpacking around Australia, Hong Kong was the complete opposite of everything I’d just experienced. And maybe that’s exactly why I loved it.
I’d gone from beaches and backpacks to skyscrapers and wide-open spaces to barely enough pavement for one person. From travelling wherever the road took me to having absolutely no idea which direction I was going in. And somewhere between the chaos, the questionable smells, the milk tea and the seventeen million people walking directly into me… I realised I was having a brilliant time.
The Peak
Obviously, I went to The Peak.
Because I’m a tourist.
And to be fair, I don’t regret it.
Hong Kong from above is ridiculous. The buildings seem to go on forever. The harbour cuts through the city. The mountains sit behind the skyscrapers. Everything is packed together so tightly that from up there it almost doesn’t look real.
Hidden In The Heart of Hong Kong
One of the things that surprised me most about Hong Kong was how quickly it could change.
One minute you’re being swallowed by crowds, traffic and people who appear to have somewhere very important to be.
The next, you turn a corner and suddenly… silence.
Or, at least, Hong Kong’s version of silence.
Nan Lian Garden was one of those places.
Beautiful gardens, traditional architecture, ponds, greenery and an almost bizarre sense of calm considering you are still very much in one of the busiest cities in the world.
A Special Souvenir
I stumbled across Man Wa Lane in Sheung Wan.
It had that magical feeling like the alley in Harry Potter, with all the hidden stall and shops, the ones making one off special pieces for a particular person.
I’m not really a souvenir person. But if ever am, I like souvenirs that don’t scream I went on holiday here. I like something a little more subtle. Something that means something, to me.
A nice novelty, or nod to somewhere special that I have been. Something that will most likely sit on my shelf untouched for years to come, until a few years go by, and all the memories of that moment are unboxed.
And that’s exactly what I found.
I chose a small piece of onyx marble that I could have my name designed and carved in Chinese for the stamp. Which, admittedly, is significantly more sentimental than a keyring.
It’s not necessarily an impressive souvenir. It wasn’t expensive. It doesn’t tell anyone where I’ve been. But I know exactly where it came from. And years from now, when it inevitably ends up buried in a drawer or sitting untouched on a bookshelf, I’ll pull it out and remember wandering down that little alley in Sheung Wan.
Not something that says I went here. Something that says I remember this.
Or maybe I’ll just use it to sign off my Christmas cards to my parents.
The Worlds Best Olives
I took myself on a solo date night to Bar Leone.
I’d seen on Instagram that they claim to have ‘THE world’s best olives’ and so naturally, I had to see for myself.
This is one of the perks of travelling alone.
Nobody can question your decisions.
Want to spend an evening in Hong Kong eating olives by yourself?
Fine.
Want to order another cocktail?
Fine.
Want to spend twenty minutes photographing said olives because they are apparently the world’s best?
Nobody is there to tell you you’re being ridiculous.
And, annoyingly, they actually were bloody good.
I’m not qualified to officially declare them the world’s best olives, but I can confirm they were good enough to make the shortlist.
There’s something quite funny about Hong Kong because you can spend the morning eating traditional rice rolls from a tiny local shop, drinking milk tea and navigating streets that feel like they’ve barely changed in decades…
And then, that evening, you’re sitting somewhere effortlessly cool, drinking cocktails and eating apparently world-class olives.
It’s chaotic and calm.
Traditional and ridiculously modern.
Loud and peaceful.
A little bit weird.
A little bit glamorous.
The city doesn’t really stick to one personality.
But neither do I.
So, perhaps that’s why we got on.
LuLu Land 