Hong Kong, again

Three months after our first visit to Hong Kong, the anticipation of going back there grew very high. How often over yet another meal of nasi goreng did we dream of the variety of dim sums? When did we actually last wear clean clothes? Or sleep in the same bed for more than five consecutive days? When did we last receive handwritten letters?

Our high expectations were not disappointed: in Hong Kong, we were able to appreciate the conveniences of sedentary life for two weeks. Again, we were very warmly welcomed by José’s relatives, and they were keen on showing us around in their city, inviting us to taste new savours of the Asian cuisine and taking us back to our favourite yum cha places. On several occasions, we got lost in the jungle of tall skyscrapers and shopping malls, amazed by all the shiny and glittery goods in the shop windows and the modern architecture of the buildings. Eating was one of the main occupation during these days: as you can see on the pictures, we tasted numberless specialities from all over Asia, including sinful desserts. Therefore, yielding to all the temptations, we put on a few pounds — as a reserve for meagrer times in Nepal.

All too soon, the moment of packing our backpacks and saying goodbye to everyone arrived. This time, it was much harder to leave Hong Kong behind, for we did not know when we will go back there again. All we have left now are the beautiful memories of those days as well as José’s photos; and the latter we want to share with you in this post.

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Mountain air

After staying in dirty, noisy and overcrowded cities for more than two weeks, sweating unceasingly and depressing between grey, lifeless concrete buildings, we definitely needed a change. A decision was quickly made: we would go east, to where a handful of volcanos dominate the relief of Java. Positively excited — for as most of you might know, I adore those peculiar mountains — we left Yogyakarta by night bus and found ourselves in a completely different surrounding by the next morning. The volcano itself was only one of the positive surprises which made the destination more than worthwhile.

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Quickly, about Malaysia

Almost as quickly as we went through it. Following our beautiful, inspiring journey through Myanmar, we only spent a grand total of ten days in Malaysia — where to head to, given so little time? After Kuala Lumpur, the thriving megalopolis which was no more than an arrival point for us, we quickly made our way to Pulau Perenthian Kecil (small Perenthian island) before exploring Penang and its bright, exploding mishmash of cultural heritages.

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Countryside

“Left or right?”

I had no memory of that roundabout. The way to the bridge we had taken to cross the Ayeyarwady river was ahead, but I could not recall which direction we had come from. I had been too busy striving to follow the villager — who had showed us the way to Sagaing Hill on his own motorbike — to memorize reference points.

“No idea!” came the reply behind me.

“Whatever. Let’s eat at that restaurant over there,” I suggested while pointing at a building, which was actually no more than a roof above packed tables and low stools set on the bare ground. It was filled with locals. That was a very good sign.

“Yeah, looks amazing”

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Koh Phangan, Thailand

“Do you have fresh coconut?” I ask the waiter from the restaurant in Haad Yao, the beach where we just arrived.

“Yes,” he answers and points upwards to the coconut tree above our heads. He counts “One, two, three, four, five, six…” fresh coconuts and laughs. Then he fetches a long stick and starts hitting the coconuts; Salome and Fernando have to get up lest they be struck by the falling green hard ball. A few minutes later, the waiter serves us the delicious coconut water and as we suck happily on our straws, feeling the sun on our skin, watching over the white sand with the deep blue ocean beyond and hearing the waves, all four of us agree: we just arrived in paradise.

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Dim sum (點心) and more

Jose suggested in an earlier post that he should work on his persuasion skills. I can confirm that he improved, or let’s say that he changed his strategy.

“It’s an egg. Really, it’s just an egg!” he says as I suspiciously eye a black, greasy something in my sticky rice soup (or congee, 粥) that I ordered for breakfast. If he says so… I put the thing in my mouth and chew — and almost instantly want to spit it out again: not only its texture but also its taste is beyond anything I could possibly eat at this time of the day. I force myself to swallow it against my better will, after all I do not want to be impolite and show bad manners in a restaurant.

Jose does not feel bad at all: “If I would have told you that most of the Europeans do not like this egg, you never would have tasted it!” Very nice, thank you… That is really thoughtful. Considerate. I think I could have lived without the experience of tasting century eggs (or preserved duck eggs, 皮蛋).

Hm, yeah. I am not yet convinced by his “progress”.

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