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Category Archives: Hong Kong

Travel tales from Hong Kong

Flipping Out At The Hong Kong Bank

02 Monday May 2011

Posted by Bangkokbois in Hong Kong, Travel Tales from Beyond Thailand

≈ 7 Comments

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Hong Kong

HSBC

Hong Kong's HSBC Building: a gathering of moola and maids.

I admit, when I’m travelling to a new place I dig out the guide books and scour the internet for things to do and see. As well as things to avoid. Generally, if a place is listed in the majority of guide books, I avoid it; it’s hard to get a taste of the local culture surrounded by a few hundred of your fellow touri. I’ve learned that if you can’t avoid a major attraction, by going during off hours instead there’s a better chance you’ll not be lost in the crowd. Better yet, strike off on your own and find something most visitors never get to see or experience. Or hear.

A case in point, Sundays in Hong Kong. Lots to see and do in Hong Kong and the guide books can do a great job of filling your days. However, the most memorable moment I spent in the island colony was partially by happenstance, and partially due to my traveling with my friend Dave who had lived in Hong Kong in his teens and gone to school there.

We’d already spent several days visiting his old haunts, and finding new bars to while away the night well into the early morning hours. Dave’s idea of foreign travel is to taste the local color from the bottom of a shot glass. A great travelling companion. For some strange reason, Sunday morning we were up, out of bed, and looking for something to do. Having yet not had the chance, I wanted to ride the Star Ferry (we were staying on the Kowloon side; in my opinion a much better choice than the Hong Kong side for both color and shopping). Dave wasn’t all that keen on the idea at first, but then broke into a smile and agreed.

The ride over wasn’t the thrill I’d hoped for. Just another form of mass transportation when you get down to it. But upon disembarking Dave took the lead saying, “Come on, there’s something you have to see”.

OK, first he said, “See I told you so,” in reference to the uneventful boat ride, but that’s Dave . . . and a different tale.

We headed inland and within a block the still of the morning was replaced by a susurrus of foreign tongues causing me to stop for a moment and look about, puzzled by the waft of noise. Dave grinned and urged me onward. And the noise grew louder with every few steps until we rounded the corner into a cacophony of female voices and a sea of brown-skinned bodies stretching across the plaza.

amahs hong kong sundays

Sunday in the Park with Amahs

Welcome to the Hong Kong and Shanghai Banking Corporation (HSBC) building on Sunday mornings. This famous building in Central boasts an enormous open parking structure at its base and is surrounded by a parklike plaza on the water side. Its designer probably never envisioned the use of his creation as it is on Sundays when thousands of Filipina amahs gather together to socialize on their single day off from work each week.

Not an exaggeration, there are thousands of young Filipino women gathered here on Sundays, and they seem to all be talking at once. Their voices echo through the cavernous parking lot which amplifies the din to a level seldom heard outside of an Ozzy Osbourne concert. The noise has a physical impact on you it is so pervasive . . . not a suggested trip if you’re suffering from a hangover from the night before!

The young Filipino women gather in groups, their lilting voices a pleasant change from the Cantonese you normally hear in Hong Kong. A chance to visit, a little taste of home, they spend the day gossiping, eating dishes from their home country, playing cards, or taking a nap. The only other group of any size evident across the plaza were white-shirted gangs of Mormon missionaries proselytizing their little hearts out as the do all over the world.

My first of many trips to Hong Kong. The shopping was great, the food delicious, the bars too numerous to remember (though the one we got eighty-sixed from stands out), and my most lingering memory is thanks largely to a country I’ve still yet to visit.

Speaking The Language Of The Foreign White Devil

07 Thursday Apr 2011

Posted by Bangkokbois in Hong Kong, Travel Tales from Beyond Thailand

≈ Comments Off on Speaking The Language Of The Foreign White Devil

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Hong Kong, Stupid Tourist Tricks, Transportation

hong kong taxi

Cabbin' in a foreign land is always an interesting experience.

When I visit relatives back east, they comment on my Californian accent. Right. I speak as announcers do on TV, the proper way; their accent is the abomination. But I digress . . .

So in a foreign land, it’s not just the different language that can be a barrier, but your accent as well as their’s. Case in point, a minor translation problem on my first trip to Hong Kong. I kinda cheated on that first trip by taking my friend Dave with me. He spent his formative years there, graduating from high school from The Hong Kong International School. So he was familiar with the island and its people and I was set for an exotic trip complete with local guide. Dave was out to impress, but ran afoul of his plans almost from the minute we landed.

Off the plane, through customs and out into the sultry night . . . sultry is probably an understatement. The humidity was so oppressive it had a physical presence, the weight of the air unbearable. The line for taxis was relatively short and within a few minutes we hopped into a cab. Dave gave the driver our destination. “Ramada Hotel,” he ordered in an imperial voice. ( No attempt at local slang, but then though he is Hawaiian, in China he qualifies as Caucasian and he was dealing with a local Chinese. I guess that whole colonial master thing was ingrained in him from having once lived in the colony).

Down the highway the cabbie flew as only an Asian cab driver can. While totally disregarding rules of the road and any other driver stupid enough to try and share the road with him, our driver chattered away to his dispatcher via radio for a few minutes before turning to Dave and questioning, “Ramada?”

Uh, oh. Now I knew the Ramada couldn’t be some unknown dive as we were being put up by a large corporation who’d flown us to Hong Kong to look at a new type of carpeting that they’d installed at the airport. Yep, free trip. Way cool. The cabbie’s confusion didn’t bother Dave, who I guess figured further information was all that was needed and replied (in that same voice), “Kowloon”.

Wow! Quick exit off the freeway and off we shot back the way we’d just come. Guess the ‘Kowloon’ info was important. More chattering over the radio with his dispatcher. Then a timid and unsure query, “Ramada?” as he looked once again at Dave as though some instantaneous spark of comprehension would strike.

No such luck, so instead he tried repeating the word as a mantra while piling down the road, “Ramada . . . Ramada . . . Ramada”.

Dave tends to have a short fuse. By now it ignited. And as many English speaking folk do when confronted with someone who doesn’t speak their language, he tried again only repeating himself louder, “RAMADA!”

Dave is 6’ 4”, weighs over 250 lbs. and has a real scary, snarly look on his face when displeased. Our driver, no Bruce Lee, probably weighed in a bit over 90 lbs. and immediately began jabbering with his dispatcher again, probably alerting him to his impending doom at the hand of this crazy white devil.

So he’s busy babbling to his dispatcher, occasionally repeating the word ‘Ramada” while Dave is practically yelling the same word at the top of his lungs and we’re zipping past other cars on our way to God knows where . . . though probably not our hotel. Then, after some more incomprehensible prattle from the radio, our cabbie gets a look of celestial blessings on his face and says, “Ah! Ra Ma Da!”

Quick freeway exit, two lefts, and we pull up in front of our hotel, the Kowloon Ramada, better known as the Ra Ma Da. Happy cabbie; he’s still alive. Happy me, after 15 hours of flying I see a bed in sight. And a pissed off Dave, who assumes I now think he’s a total ingrate and stooge when it comes to being a tour guide of the colony. Hey, but he introduced me to the Temple Street Market and its fortune tellers, as well as numerous pubs and bars, so I’d still give him two thumbs up for showing me the local sights.

Bartering For Trouble At Hong Kong Street Markets

28 Monday Mar 2011

Posted by Bangkokbois in Hong Kong, Travel Tales from Beyond Thailand

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Hong Kong, Markets & Shopping, Money Matters

Temple Street Market

Temple Street Market Fortune Teller

There are two things I enjoy most while travelling in foreign lands: soaking up local color and shopping. And there’s no place better to do both than a street market in Asia. Finding street markets not heavily trafficked by touri is ideal. Following the advice of guide books usually means higher prices and far too many white faces. But sometimes good street markets are listed in the guide books and you can not avoid going with the touri flow. A good example is my favorite market in Hong Kong; the Temple Street Night Market, replete with food stalls, pirated CD’s and DVD’s, knock-offs of every major clothing design house, and electronics of ever imaginable sort.

More than just a market, Temple Street has a unique atmosphere that makes it a must-do for Hong Kong visitors. Fortune tellers huddle by gas-lit lamps next to local chess masters. Street singers perform Cantonese opera. Tables and chairs from stalls selling local delicacies overflow into this street that was named after a nearby temple honoring the goddess Tin Hau. And great bargains abound.

At night, the street becomes a fairyland of consumerism. Some stalls are humble, no more than a piece of cardboard on the ground, protecting a pile of beads from the sweating concrete. Some are elaborate, piled high with gleaming electronics. And the Yau Ma Tei end of the street features an echelon of palmists, physiognomists, and a fortune-teller whose trained birds select slips of paper to predict the future, your destiny by avian prestidigitation.

Officially the Temple Street Market is open from 2 pm, but it really gets going after dark. I kind of get the impression that post 9 pm is best. The market extends for half a dozen blocks, you need to pay attention to avoid getting run over in the cross streets. Or hang for a bit and watch some other unsuspecting touri get hit. It’s usually quite busy, bustling even, until quite late. The latest I’ve been there was around 11:30 pm, stalls and nearby shops were just starting to pack up for the night.

Hong Kong Temple Street Market

Trinkets @ Temple Street

Of course, as at all street markets in Asia, bartering is a must. At least if you don’t want to overpay for the cheap goods you buy. Which brings us to this tale and brings my friend Ann back into the journey. Ann, her friend Char, and I had been in Bangkok and decided to take a few days out to see the sights of Hong Kong. Now Ann, on her first trip to Thailand, had really gotten into bartering at the street markets of Bangkok. It’s good fun and everyone, both seller and customer alike, are out for enjoyment (besides making a buck or getting something for a song). Typically, in Bangkok, the asking price is way over inflated, you offer a ridiculously low price in return, the merchant tells you about her sick grandma, you plead poverty . . . and it goes back and forth until a bargain is struck. Everyone is happy and everyone has a good time in negotiating the deal.

Not so in Hong Kong. As Ann discovered. We visited Temple Street to see the sights, and for Ann to purchase a calculator (great tool for shopping in a place where English may not be spoken . . . like Hong Kong . . . for once being a British Colony it’s down right amazing how many of the natives don’t speak English). A new friend we made in Bangkok, typical of a Thai, borrowed hers and never returned it. After visiting several stalls and trying them out, she found the calculator of her dreams. “How much?” she asked the vendor.

“100 HK Dollars!” was his curt reply. (Hong Kong Chinese don’t hold Americans in high regard to begin with, and a woman??? Ha!)

Ann smiled and quickly came back with her Bangkok based offer, “10 HK Dollars!”

Yikes!

“Fuck You!, Fuck YOU!” he shouted, face contorted in rage.

The look on Ann’s face was priceless (mmmmm, may be a MasterCard ad in there). She backed quickly away from the stall, totally bewildered. He’d offered her the calculator at about US$12.00. She’d countered at a price slightly over a buck. It probably would have sold for about 80 HK dollars, or ten dollars U.S. In Bangkok, this would have been a fine beginning exchange. In Hong Kong, however, they have a bit more reverence for money. She would have known this if she’d checked her Frommers. Maybe those guide books have a use after all!

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Sawatdee and welcome to the new and improved Bangkokbois Gay Thailand Blog! Okay, so it’s not necessarily improved, just hosted on a new site. And it’s not just about Thailand, though that still is the main focus. And it’s not all gay either, unless you’re not and then you’ll think it’s pretty damn gay I’m sure. All of the penis might tip you off. Which means if you are not of the required legal age to be looking at penis other than your own, you should leave. And go tell your parental units they suck at their job.

But it is a blog and one out of three ain’t bad. Besides, Bangkokbois Pretty Gay Mostly About Thailand Blog For People Of Legal Age is just too wordy. But so is Dancing With The Devil In The City Of Angels, which is really the title of this blog.

As cool of a title as that is, Google just ain’t sharp enough to figure out that means this blog is mostly about Thailand. And pretty damn gay to boot. The penis part even Google figured out. Which is a good thing. ‘Cuz Bangkokbois Pretty Gay Mostly About Thailand With Lots Of Penis Blog For People Of Legal Age, I think, was taken by someone else.

Move along, there’s nothing to see here folks; pay no attention to that man behind the curtain:

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