Cheung Chau

Cheung Chau Island. 

Boats to bikes to beaches with a boy.  Ballin'.  

High tea time at Cafe Gray

There are two cultural phenomenons I advocate every society adopt in order to make existence on  Earth more tolerable. The first was presented to me in 2008 by the Spaniards and that is: siesta.

The second, I have always been aware of via media and contact with various Anglophones, but was not fully convinced of its splendor, until I had the chance to do so at Cafe Gray today, and that is high tea.

Thankfully no horrid date stories for this post. Today's event was all about meeting up with a sister from another mister, enjoying life, and having cheeky gossip sesh.  We were with parents so a double tea set for two was ordered. The bite size mixes of savories and sweets that accompanied the warm smooth Darjeeling was enough to melt any trouble away.  The view from the 49th floor might have helped with the cause to induce serenity as well.

As discussed over tea, this is something one should do with girl friends often enough to keep the crave, but not too often to spoil it.  Some things are better left sacred.

49th floor Cafe Gray Deluxe

Ham 'n cheese, Salmon chives and cream, egg, beef and pickles.  All delicious little nibbles

little curry puff, and the best scone that has ever landed on my taste buds

Mango tartiness on white mousse, little meringues, a lemon tart made for the gods, and I fell asleep after that so I don't know what the rest are

The spread

Darjeeling

Noteworthy attempts at Romance in a bar. Edition: Ozone. #drinksintheclouds

"It doesn't matter how many S&M shows you go to, you're still going to want real love"

Unfortunately, in the game of trying to find real love, one has to sift through a certain quota of douche baggery to really appreciate that special someone who will one day become your shiny prince charming.  Sadly, here in Hong Kong one has LOTS of sifting to do.  Lines like the above have become quite commonplace in the conversations I am hesitant to label as my "dating life".  

However a cringe worthy endeavor dating ends up being in Hong Kong, there is at least one silver lining to withstanding the d-bags: what men here lack in genuinely good character, they make up for with a persistent drive to impress and a credit limit to support it.  How do I know they have a stellar credit limit you ask?  Oh believe me, they tell you.     

Long story short, this is essentially why I was given the opportunity to imbibe in delicious adult beverages at the wonderful, marvelous, almighty: Ozone.  Ozone is beautifully located, situated in Kowloon atop the lavish Ritz Carlton. At 118 stories high, having a drink here will quite literally put your head in the clouds.  Not only is it the world’s highest bar, but in my opinion, one of Hong Kong’s sexiest. Crossing the threshold of Ozone transformed my nerdy gait into swag only worthy of the catwalk.  The bartenders had to have had a good laugh as I strutted the runway to the bar....and ordered water. 

(Let's be real, I teach English folks.)   

Runway Ozone

The interior of Ozone is a feat of design itself, but it was Ozone’s terrace that took my breath away (super high altitude, no oxygen). Once outside you instantly mesmerized by the infinite stretch of cityscape that is Victoria Harbor. The neon outlines of the HSBC and IFC buildings that normal dominate their surroundings look like children’s lego blocks. The lack of a roof on the terrace creates the surreal feeling of sitting on a cloud as they themselves whiz by you and the wind whips your hair into a frenzy.  It’s not for the weak of stomach or for those with a vivid imagination as one can actually feel the sway of the ICC beneath their feet. 

The view from the terrace

Look ma!  No Roof!

Sorry for the shoddiness, they were after all taken with a Samsung. 

Too bad my date, who was an hour late, was not even close to being as sexy as the establishment itself.  We were only ten minutes in to the conversation when the first layer of the “true personality onion” came off and I was subjected to a more than comfortable amount of sexist and racist comments.  Being a big fan of imaginary escapism, I was already entertaining the idea of pretending to go to the bathroom and veering straight for the elevators instead.  On the flip side, I had traveled far, waited long, and dressed up for the occasion.  Ultimately, I didn't feel as if I had experienced enough of Ozone's drink menu at his expense to make up for wasted efforts.  

Starting out, I had a Vanilla Sky. The name was catchy, I was in the sky, and who doesn't like Vanilla?   Poured from a cold steel flask the concoction was sweet and milky with a hint of Bourbon after taste, kind of like pouring ice cream in a glass and smothering it with Jack Daniels.  Just like this Texan likes her Bluebell.

In between drinks I nod, smile, and fake laugh just long enough to catch the bar tender’s attention.

 Next up, the classically done Old Fashioned.  I was introduced to them back in Dublin in 2010, I have been stuck on them ever since.  I try them everywhere.  This by far was the smoothest an Old Fashioned has ever slid out of a glass and onto my taste buds.  It had an agreeably smooth whiskey taste, just the right amount bitters and a fresh hint of orange.  

A neighbor bar fly of ours ordered a Blackberry Mojito and I have to admit, I was bored and jealous.  Naturally, I ordered one for myself.  The cold curvy glass was jam packed with a dark, sweet, tangy, alcoholic, blackberry current swirling around the utmost perfect little cubes of ice and spritzed with refreshing soda, served with a plump blackberry that tasted like it was picked off the vine minutes beforehand.  It was better than a blackberry party in your mouth.  It was like a symphony of freshness playing Beethoven on your taste buds.     

The Blackberry Mojito proved too tasty to top. The Basil something or other I had last was not even worth drinking, but at this point my date was comparing the economics of the services provided by the women in the red light district of Hong Kong to those of Macau, bragging about how much money he made by selling things to "idiotic (insert racial slur) people with too much money", going into detail about how his former roommate was once an S&M artist and expanding on gag inducing topics in general.  It was my duty to satisfy my curiosity on the subject of how far either one of us were willing to allow this nonsense to continue, and that my friends, for me, was four drinks.   

mmmmmmmmm Blackberry Mojito

So am I going to see this guy again?  If it weren't clear in the reading above, the answer is no. I walked away from spending an evening with this bloke more depressed about humanity than I would have had I just spent it alone.  There is something to be said about someone who will have that affect on you.  So there is your answer, it's not worth my already limited time.  I will, however, be saying yes to another round at Ozone!

Cheers!

At one point I spent a good twenty minutes in the bathroom mapping out this blog post, applying the luxurious Ritz-Carlton lotion to my legs, messing up the hand towels and taking pictures like this.  

Pok Fu Lam

Pok Fu Lam Village

Every morning around 8:45AM bus 970X swings around a high turn about and gives its passengers a full frontal view of the shanty town Pok Fu Lam Village.  Pok Fu Lam to me was never a sought out or planned adventure, but with daily window seat viewings, it seeped its way into the recesses of my interest.  Recently we had a half day off due to a typhoon and the weather was hardly severe enough to stay indoors so I jumped on the opportunity.  My PFL experience was more sobering than adventurous, but I appreciate a little slap of reality in this playground of a city . 

 As a foreign English teacher life is pretty lush and easy.  Within a month of walking onto the Hong Kong scene I secured a well paying job just for being able to speak the language my mother taught me.  The apartment and community of instant ex-pat friends soon thereafter fell into place. Not bad, considering the people living in PFL get paid a small portion of my salary to work three times as hard and come home to the grating questions of availability of running water or electricity.  An hour tops was what I spent here and I'm no expert so let's allow the photos to do their speaking:  

View walking up from the road

970X view

The top of the village, surprisingly lush

city gazing

One way to secure a roof

View of the village from the top, you can see in the upper left hand corner the road my bus takes