Hong Kong is Singapore
on steroids.
Perhaps it is unfair
to do such a comparison – each is unique in its own quirky way although the
crushing humidity, human squeeze and love for shopping & eating are evident
in both.
Except in HK,
everything goes into overdrive. The buildings are built from entire mountains
with gigantic neon signs in case you are blind. All available surfaces are
caked with advertisements in a riot of colours & blinking LEDs that your
brain periodically shuts down from sensory overload.
But that’s good. That’s Hong Kong.
Plus they make some of
the best tasting Swiss chicken this side of Asia.
The best Swiss chicken
wings I’ve ever had. This dish, incidentally, has absolutely nothing to do with
the European country famed for watches & a font called Helvetica.
Also, a soufflé the
size of Russia.
This is Tim Ho Wan,
the cheapest one-star Michelin restaurant IN THE WORLD. But the privilege of
queuing 3 hours was something to be experienced for another time. We went to
their 2nd outlet in a mall (much less crowded) & tried their
legendary Char siew bao.
These are the most
precious baos you’ll ever eat. Although I’m certain queuing forever for the
originals sure adds to the flavour.
HKers queue for their
early morning newspapers.
The line snakes around
the building & off the ends of the earth.
A live chicken market
just like the old days in Singapore!
An exhibition for the
Chinese eye society in a mall. There is a whole plantation of these little eye
dolls that stretches as far as the eye can see.
Millions of them! An
invasion of the eye monsters!
We visited our
relatives’ tomb on a Monday.
The columbarium is
breathtakingly lavish. And spacious. Like some Qing dynasty mansion. Spacious,
you say!? Yes, here we are, squashed like sardines in a room no bigger than a
flowerpot and we look enviously at the residence of the dead. (I shall post my
trip to Bukit Brown cemetery when I have the time. Or maybe
not, we shall see).
Okay, Macau now.
I don’t have pictures
from Macau because I only stayed there for 6 hours, thanks to some admirable
planning on my father’s part who was certain of our capability to magically
teleport across land.
But here is a blurry
photo of the Venetian for your enjoyment. Taken when we were dashing from one
hotel to the next in bid to run through as many hotels as humanly possible.
