The pretty beachside cove town of Mui Wo glitters in the sun. Dogs and their people take dips in the shallow blue-green waters and the old folks and little kids enjoy the park in the morning until the sweltering midday heat overwhelms them. The green hills roll above and the scene is more reminiscent of a summer holiday than a suburb of Hong Kong.
Before my first trip to Hong Kong in 2004, my friend Leanne told me to stay at the Silvermine Beach Resort at Mui Wo. She said it has more space and nicer amenities for the money than anywhere else and best of all, I could afford it. Leanne is someone to trust on anything, but especially hotels, restaurants and Hong Kong.
I took her advice and have repeated it four times over. Starting and ending the day in the peaceful cove of Mui Wo and taking the beautiful ferry ride to and from Hong Kong's Central district has become a pleasant ritual for me.
Emily's reaction has been more mixed. Although she enjoys the pretty ride across Hong Kong harbor with the green hills, open skies and many boats, the extra 30 to 40 minutes of sailing plus the walk to the pier and wait twice a day adds up - especially on work days. Sure, we can work at our hotel and local restaurants, but the idea of being here is to be in the city - either Kowloon or Hong Kong Island. In this sense, this has been one of our least convenient stays.
It all highlights the difference between what we do and normal travel. Traveling and working is such a different experience than being a full-time tourist or backpacker. We actually have structured needs and a routine as we go - which has to be adapted and reestablished in each environment. Some, like Patmos and Istanbul were a breeze, others including Nepal and Udaipur, India were draining.
In my past, Hong Kong has been nothing but fun. I spent my days walking the city - with friends on two occasions and once on my own. I treat Hong Kong like New York - the most interesting part of the city is the city itself. The streets, the neighborhoods, the subways, trams, taxi drivers, cafes - everything going on outside and on the ground interests me. They are the living, beating heart of Hong Kong.
Over the weekend and when we're not working, we still attend to them. However, our days aren't as easy and carefree when we need to get to good, ideally free WiFi in time to get on with our work and hopefully be done in time to enjoy the city.
Hong Kong has also reinforced an idea that has surfaced time and again during the course of the year: environment matters. This is Emily's first time in Hong Kong and the city sort of overwhelmed her for the first two days. Although we were just in Bangkok with has 12 million people compared to Hong Kong's 7 million, the feel is so much more laid back.
Like Los Angeles, Bangkok is spread out and the skyline is decentralized. There are tall buildings here and there, but mostly people live no more than five stories high. The city doesn't tower and the proportions are more human. The back sois (alleys that form the secret heart of Bangkok) take people off the main roads and the streets aren't so densely crowded.
In Hong Kong, it's people everywhere, get with the flow of foot traffic and you gotta' know when to use the pedestrian underpasses because crosswalks aren't always an option. People will help if you ask, but you have to catch the tiger by the toe - they power walk.
"I miss the third world! In the third world they took us right to the door of wherever we wanted!" Emily said in a particularly whiny moment.
The first two days, without work nagging for our attention, I took my wife walking and when we didn't walk, we used the metro (subway) and the tram (streetcar). This involves walking to and from the transportation. We didn't use taxis at all.
It hadn't occurred to me that the woman who could jump into the uncontrolled, swarming human mass of Chandi Chowk in Old Delhi - which I couldn't stand for five minutes - would find the streets of Hong Kong overwhelming. But when I zoomed out, I realized that this city is different from any other we've visited this trip.
Singapore with only one million fewer people on their vertically built little island has a calm, orderly feel.
Delhi was an uncontrolled mass of humanity that we traversed by taxi and walked really only in bits and pieces. It's also so different that Emily suspends her cultural expectations and norms, and instead finds it fascinating.
Mumbai, Bangkok and Istanbul were spread out and relatively tame.
Hong Kong is the Big City in the metropolitan, marching through town in wing-tips and high heels sort of way. Everyone has somewhere to be, something they're doing and you have to get into the groove.
Meanwhile, I get high off it. Something about Hong Kong thrills me. The energy is like a drug - it quickens my heart, sparks my imagination, drops my jaw and makes me think about the possibilities of life and what people are capable of achieving. Bali is my euphoric tranquilizer and Hong Kong is a powerful upper. When I'm here I want as much as possible, straight into my veins until I drag myself back to the hotel exhausted and crash. Then I wake up the next morning to nurse my hangover over dim sum and tea before getting back on the boat for another hit.
If I ever went back and forth between Bali and Hong Kong, I'd probably end up like Elvis on the bathroom floor.
It turns out, this isn't Emily's drug of choice. She's becoming accustomed, but it sort of gives her the jitters - the way I'm glad I saw Delhi, but it rattled me too.
When I was a kid, my parents liked to occasionally look at houses and neighborhoods when we were on vacation in a place they really liked. They wanted to peek, see if they liked it - always a little open to new ideas for their lives. It used to freak me out because I had no desire to move and just looking sort of frayed me. Now, I get it.
As Emily and I have made our way around the world, we sometimes try things on for size. We discuss where we could and could never live. We talk about what we like about different places and environments. Each stop becomes a sounding board for figuring out our individual and collective environmental needs. And it turns out that the physical environment affects how we feel about each place as much or more than any of the sights or cultural aspects.
When it's all said and done, two places remain on the tips of both our tongues - Bali and Patmos, Greece. The two most relaxed and small-town places of the trip. Istanbul won as favorite city. Although it was cool and we should have liked it more, Penang failed to impress and we're still working on why that is. And I would be happy not to spend five more minutes of my life in Delhi, whereas we both found Mumbai intriguing and pleasant.
For us, many things make a place special but temperature, natural beauty, and water matters. We also like access to "stuff" without rampant consumerism. None of our favorite places are sportin' the bling, but they all have everything we could want and need. Alright, Patmos might require an occasional shopping trip at a nearby island or Athens - but only now and then. We'd probably boat-pool with Nicholas.
In the end, just as my parents always told me when I'd get jittery about them looking, we have no intention of living anywhere other than in LA, near family and friends. No island or city is beautiful enough or enjoyable enough to replace them. However, we might make extended regular getaways if we can make it happen....
In the meantime, we've promised ourselves we're not going to turn our last week abroad into a "count down" or a giant nostalgia-fest. We want to enjoy each day - the entire trip entirely. We're trying to stay in the present.
Luckily, Emily began getting over her Hong Kong shock yesterday. She got some work done and began acclimating to the flow of this very first world city. Of course, Emily was put off over the weekend when someone told her "no" for the first time since Region 1. She wanted to sit on a ledge in the mall and eat a snack she had purchased at a stand that had no seating.
"Do you remember the last time someone told us "no"? I don't! No one has told us "no" in months!" she exclaimed. As caucasian American travelers in South and Southeast Asia, we were pretty much left alone and allowed to do whatever. Sad in a sense, but it's the way.
The cultures too, allowed more flexibility than we ever required. Thais sit on the steps of their malls eating street snacks. Lao sleep anywhere they feel like. Vietnamese pull out drawf-sized chairs and stools and hang out on the sidewalk. And Indians do just about anything - except touch a member of the opposite sex or have sex - anywhere. But Emily wasn't allowed to eat food she purchased in a mall just anywhere she wanted. She needed a designated bench or table.
"I don't like the first world! Is this what's going to happen when we get home?! This isn't good..."
This is why I wanted Hong Kong for last. Besides the "upper" of Hong Kong energy - at least for me - it's a transition from third world to first in a safe, removed setting. Without cutting the intoxicating elixir of travel completely, Hong Kong allows us to titrate back to the rules and realities of our world. Hong Kong is, as so many Asian cultures say, "Same, same, but different."
Before my first trip to Hong Kong in 2004, my friend Leanne told me to stay at the Silvermine Beach Resort at Mui Wo. She said it has more space and nicer amenities for the money than anywhere else and best of all, I could afford it. Leanne is someone to trust on anything, but especially hotels, restaurants and Hong Kong.
I took her advice and have repeated it four times over. Starting and ending the day in the peaceful cove of Mui Wo and taking the beautiful ferry ride to and from Hong Kong's Central district has become a pleasant ritual for me.
Emily's reaction has been more mixed. Although she enjoys the pretty ride across Hong Kong harbor with the green hills, open skies and many boats, the extra 30 to 40 minutes of sailing plus the walk to the pier and wait twice a day adds up - especially on work days. Sure, we can work at our hotel and local restaurants, but the idea of being here is to be in the city - either Kowloon or Hong Kong Island. In this sense, this has been one of our least convenient stays.
It all highlights the difference between what we do and normal travel. Traveling and working is such a different experience than being a full-time tourist or backpacker. We actually have structured needs and a routine as we go - which has to be adapted and reestablished in each environment. Some, like Patmos and Istanbul were a breeze, others including Nepal and Udaipur, India were draining.
In my past, Hong Kong has been nothing but fun. I spent my days walking the city - with friends on two occasions and once on my own. I treat Hong Kong like New York - the most interesting part of the city is the city itself. The streets, the neighborhoods, the subways, trams, taxi drivers, cafes - everything going on outside and on the ground interests me. They are the living, beating heart of Hong Kong.
Over the weekend and when we're not working, we still attend to them. However, our days aren't as easy and carefree when we need to get to good, ideally free WiFi in time to get on with our work and hopefully be done in time to enjoy the city.
Hong Kong has also reinforced an idea that has surfaced time and again during the course of the year: environment matters. This is Emily's first time in Hong Kong and the city sort of overwhelmed her for the first two days. Although we were just in Bangkok with has 12 million people compared to Hong Kong's 7 million, the feel is so much more laid back.
Like Los Angeles, Bangkok is spread out and the skyline is decentralized. There are tall buildings here and there, but mostly people live no more than five stories high. The city doesn't tower and the proportions are more human. The back sois (alleys that form the secret heart of Bangkok) take people off the main roads and the streets aren't so densely crowded.
In Hong Kong, it's people everywhere, get with the flow of foot traffic and you gotta' know when to use the pedestrian underpasses because crosswalks aren't always an option. People will help if you ask, but you have to catch the tiger by the toe - they power walk.
"I miss the third world! In the third world they took us right to the door of wherever we wanted!" Emily said in a particularly whiny moment.
The first two days, without work nagging for our attention, I took my wife walking and when we didn't walk, we used the metro (subway) and the tram (streetcar). This involves walking to and from the transportation. We didn't use taxis at all.
It hadn't occurred to me that the woman who could jump into the uncontrolled, swarming human mass of Chandi Chowk in Old Delhi - which I couldn't stand for five minutes - would find the streets of Hong Kong overwhelming. But when I zoomed out, I realized that this city is different from any other we've visited this trip.
Singapore with only one million fewer people on their vertically built little island has a calm, orderly feel.
Delhi was an uncontrolled mass of humanity that we traversed by taxi and walked really only in bits and pieces. It's also so different that Emily suspends her cultural expectations and norms, and instead finds it fascinating.
Mumbai, Bangkok and Istanbul were spread out and relatively tame.
Hong Kong is the Big City in the metropolitan, marching through town in wing-tips and high heels sort of way. Everyone has somewhere to be, something they're doing and you have to get into the groove.
Meanwhile, I get high off it. Something about Hong Kong thrills me. The energy is like a drug - it quickens my heart, sparks my imagination, drops my jaw and makes me think about the possibilities of life and what people are capable of achieving. Bali is my euphoric tranquilizer and Hong Kong is a powerful upper. When I'm here I want as much as possible, straight into my veins until I drag myself back to the hotel exhausted and crash. Then I wake up the next morning to nurse my hangover over dim sum and tea before getting back on the boat for another hit.
If I ever went back and forth between Bali and Hong Kong, I'd probably end up like Elvis on the bathroom floor.
It turns out, this isn't Emily's drug of choice. She's becoming accustomed, but it sort of gives her the jitters - the way I'm glad I saw Delhi, but it rattled me too.
When I was a kid, my parents liked to occasionally look at houses and neighborhoods when we were on vacation in a place they really liked. They wanted to peek, see if they liked it - always a little open to new ideas for their lives. It used to freak me out because I had no desire to move and just looking sort of frayed me. Now, I get it.
As Emily and I have made our way around the world, we sometimes try things on for size. We discuss where we could and could never live. We talk about what we like about different places and environments. Each stop becomes a sounding board for figuring out our individual and collective environmental needs. And it turns out that the physical environment affects how we feel about each place as much or more than any of the sights or cultural aspects.
When it's all said and done, two places remain on the tips of both our tongues - Bali and Patmos, Greece. The two most relaxed and small-town places of the trip. Istanbul won as favorite city. Although it was cool and we should have liked it more, Penang failed to impress and we're still working on why that is. And I would be happy not to spend five more minutes of my life in Delhi, whereas we both found Mumbai intriguing and pleasant.
For us, many things make a place special but temperature, natural beauty, and water matters. We also like access to "stuff" without rampant consumerism. None of our favorite places are sportin' the bling, but they all have everything we could want and need. Alright, Patmos might require an occasional shopping trip at a nearby island or Athens - but only now and then. We'd probably boat-pool with Nicholas.
In the end, just as my parents always told me when I'd get jittery about them looking, we have no intention of living anywhere other than in LA, near family and friends. No island or city is beautiful enough or enjoyable enough to replace them. However, we might make extended regular getaways if we can make it happen....
In the meantime, we've promised ourselves we're not going to turn our last week abroad into a "count down" or a giant nostalgia-fest. We want to enjoy each day - the entire trip entirely. We're trying to stay in the present.
Luckily, Emily began getting over her Hong Kong shock yesterday. She got some work done and began acclimating to the flow of this very first world city. Of course, Emily was put off over the weekend when someone told her "no" for the first time since Region 1. She wanted to sit on a ledge in the mall and eat a snack she had purchased at a stand that had no seating.
"Do you remember the last time someone told us "no"? I don't! No one has told us "no" in months!" she exclaimed. As caucasian American travelers in South and Southeast Asia, we were pretty much left alone and allowed to do whatever. Sad in a sense, but it's the way.
The cultures too, allowed more flexibility than we ever required. Thais sit on the steps of their malls eating street snacks. Lao sleep anywhere they feel like. Vietnamese pull out drawf-sized chairs and stools and hang out on the sidewalk. And Indians do just about anything - except touch a member of the opposite sex or have sex - anywhere. But Emily wasn't allowed to eat food she purchased in a mall just anywhere she wanted. She needed a designated bench or table.
"I don't like the first world! Is this what's going to happen when we get home?! This isn't good..."
This is why I wanted Hong Kong for last. Besides the "upper" of Hong Kong energy - at least for me - it's a transition from third world to first in a safe, removed setting. Without cutting the intoxicating elixir of travel completely, Hong Kong allows us to titrate back to the rules and realities of our world. Hong Kong is, as so many Asian cultures say, "Same, same, but different."
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