Sandwiched between the heavy rank of “stinky tofu” (a truly foul smelling Hong Kong dish) and the din of a nearby outdoor market lies Mr. Wong’s Chinese restaurant. It’s a small place, taking up a small slice on the end of a run down, run-of-the-mill apartment building. This neighborhood is considered the mid-east part of Hong Kong’s Kowloon district – the part of town that’s not entirely caught in the wake of billions of dollars of west-meets-east economic stimulus. Nonetheless, Kowloon is packed, and has become part of an equally bustling city. It supports hundreds of thousands of residents and many of the shops that sell Hong Kong’s infamous knock-off merchandise.
“Wong’s” – as it has been affectionately labeled by dozens of international students who grace its outdoor seating – is probably one of the least impressive restaurants I’ve encountered in the past two months.
Its walls are plastered with 8.5 by 11 multicolored printouts of menu choices. The makeshift wallpaper of Cantonese characters is about all the ambiance that can be found. Old booths line the inside, as folding tables and the stools I used to sit on in Kindergarten foster chronic back pain outside.
But I’m there once, sometimes twice a week. Sure, the food is mediocre – except for the deep fried potstickers and a deep fried fish in sweet and sour sauce – but that still isn’t worth shivering outside for two hours. Why go? There’s something special about Mr. Wong’s. It’s a place where the collectively broke exchange students of Hong Kong descend upon in order to get all you can eat and drink for HKD $40 (USD $5). I’ve met most of my friends here in Hong Kong at Wong’s. Aside from food, trips, classwork, relationships, music, sports, language and culture are digested here. Wong’s is our place to debrief, share stories and find commonalities.
Leaving California I expected these experiences/digestions of the intellectual flavor, but this setting was unexpected. Two months into my journey, I find that the experiences that I was expecting to have are happening left and right, but the surprise has been in the setting. From talking Mubarak at the horse races to arguing the metaphysical need for borders in the back of a pickup truck on a remote island in Thailand, the setting has been awesomely unpredictable.
When I last posted a Lobster “Tale,” Hong Kong was at full capacity in anticipation for the Lunar New Year celebration. On Feb. 3, newfound travel companion Zach and I headed for Singapore. It was the first of two wonderful trips this month.
Singapore is arguably the world’s strictest society. The PAP (People’s Action Party), which has been virtually uncontested since establishment of the country’s parliamentary system, runs a government based off an elite ruling system. Every industry, caste, and community is represented by its most elite members. Their smartest citizens stay home to serve their public in building one of the world’s most productive governments. Streets are scarily clean, standards are brutally high, but spirits seem to be enjoying the same success. I found it to be a remarkable ecosystem that quite simply, works.
After arriving late at night, we turned in immediately, setting out to begin the next day early in the morning. Our first stop was the Golden Mile Arcade to purchase bus tickets for our voyage to Kuala Lumpur the next day. This proved to be harder than anticipated as most shops were closed for the New Year. Nonetheless, we settled our arrangements and moved on to the Singapore Zoo. This was an incredible zoo, and I’d highly recommend it to anyone who is passing through Singapore. We saw monkeys, zebras, rhinos, lions, tigers, elephants, kangaroos, snakes, and giraffes, but the massive Komodo dragon stole the show. This reptile was huge and awesome. I’ve always wanted to see one; check that off the bucket list.
Next was a trip to Singapore’s equally impressive botanic gardens, in which the “Ginger Garden” led to some obvious jokes. The orchid garden was also pretty impressive. Worth a visit. Our last stop before returning to our little India-based hotel was to the most southern point in Asia, Sentosa Island. This was a tourist trap with little of substance and was nice for views, but ultimately negligible. After drinks at the brand new – and very impressive – Marina Bay Sands Hotel and dinner on the 61st floor of Singapore’s tallest building, it was time for bed.
Kuala Lumpur was an adventure. Our bus to the Malaysian capital was like one’s first flight in business class after flying southwest for a lifetime. Our seats were huge, reclined and had on demand video. Such comfort was necessary, as the trip was seven hours of Malaysian jungle. After dropping our stuff in the hotel, Zach and I were off to the Petronas Towers for a photo op. Next up was Kuala Lumpur’s Chinatown, which was admittedly a total dump. Nonetheless, it was nice to see some cool knock-off merchandise in what felt like its natural environment. After that we went to KL’s main park to visit the Islamic Art Museum, which was unfortunately closed. We settled for the National Museum, which was a nice look into Malaysian history. As a nasty thunderstorm rolled across the city, we retreated to our hotel to watch the storm pass over the countryside.
The next day we spent in traffic. Nine hours of traffic to be specific. I’ve never seen traffic like this before. Thank goodness we had our spaceship-of-a-bus to keep us comfortable, because this made LA traffic look like a cakewalk. We retuned to Singapore by 2 a.m. and settled in for the night. The next day we returned to Hong Kong. It was a short trip, but it was a great look into an extraordinarily peculiar dynamic that Malaysia and Singapore entertain with each other. Singapore is incredibly developed, refined and wealthy. Cross the border and it’s impossible not to feel the lack of organization and prosperity that Singapore is hoarding into its tiny land mass (it’s significantly smaller than Hong Kong S.A.R.). I look forward to returning.
The next weekend we spent in Hong Kong, as old friend Geng Wang rolled through the HK for a couple of days en-route to studying in Shanghai (check out his blog). Yet, in what seemed like no time at all, I was back on the road.
This time our band of goofballs grew from 2 to 6, as Mario, JP, Thomas, and Sara joined Zach and me for a trip to Thailand. We went to Thailand for many reasons, but the Full Moon Party was the catalyst. Each month, when the moon is at its fullest, Thailand comes alive with internationals and locals alike to celebrate the new month on Koh Pha’ngan’s Haad Rin beach. Before we could enjoy the Full Moon Party, we had to travel through Phuket, Koh Phi Phi (pronounced “pee-pee”), Krabi and Don Sak. We spent a meaningless night in Phuket Town en-route to an early morning ferry to Phi Phi. Nonetheless, we got the chance to do a brief taxicab tour as we wove our way to the peir. Phi Phi is a small island and is stunningly beautiful. Its four parallel peninsulas create two opposing semicircular beaches. Much like Zanzibar or the Caribbean, the water is perfectly clear, taking on a turquoise hue that is breathtaking. This was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful beaches I have ever been to. We spent the day relaxing and swimming. Over the course of the entire trip I went on a Pad Thai tear, ordering the iconic Thai dish at nearly every culinary impasse. One small Phi Phi restaurant provided the best rendition of the noodle, shrimp and tomato/spicy sauce dish. Despite a valiant effort, this still was not the best meal of the month – more on that later.
After an excellent day of beach, kayaks, snorkeling and relaxation we left Phi Phi for our next destination, Koh Pha’ngan. It took a day of traveling clear across the Thai peninsula, but we arrived safely to our hotel on the northwest corner of the island before the end of the day. Thus commenced the two-day insanity that was the full moon party. It happened, it was crazy, 30,000 people showed up, I slept very little, a few people got burned, ‘nuff said. I also went on an incredible – and slightly illegal (I’m not technically a certified diver) – scuba diving trip, where I saw huge grouper, dove to nearly 70 feet below the surface, swam between a school of barracuda and yellow striped fish, got up close with some live coral and ascended 40 feet through an underwater coral chimney into some of the most incredible sea life I have ever seen. It was a spectacular experience, with good diving, good people and better pictures to account for it.
After three especially tiring days on Pha’ngan we attempted to head back to the airport for Hong Kong. Little did we know that this would be just as much of an adventure as the rest of the trip combined. We arrived too late to the ferry terminal to be in our desired location (Phuket) by nightfall. So we opted for an overnight ferry to the mainland, which would connect to a bus.
This bus was “sure to get us in to Phuket by 11:30,” according to the travel services broker. She is not worthy of the title “travel agent,” that would imply that they were at some level competent. This was not the case. Our overnight ferry got in on time, but our “bus” turned out to be a shuttle. It took us to a waiting area in the costal town of Surrathani, some 5 hours from Phuket. From the waiting area, we were shuttled yet again to a bus stop via taxi. After 45 minutes of the bus “refueling” we boarded our “express bus to Phuket.” Another 45 minutes later, our COMPLETELY FULL (or so I thought) bus was ready to go. It is 9 o’clock in the morning now. Do the math. That puts us into Phuket – which is not the same as the airport – at 2 p.m. Our flight is at 3:30. Suddenly I’m channeling my father’s notorious airport rush, worried sick we’d miss our plane and pay out the nose to reschedule.
To make things worse, our bus began making local stops, handing out the same Mr. Wong style kindergarten stools to oncoming passengers, having them sit in the aisle. The bus was now actually full. There was no more aisle. At a rest stop some 150 km from the airport, the six of us made a decision to ditch the bus and piled into another one of our many unmarked pickup truck-based taxi rides. Quite literally, a man at a roadside strip mall called his buddy, who was 20 minutes away, to come and pick us up in his personal pickup truck. After some nervous speeding through Thailand, we made it on time to our plane and safely returned to Hong Kong. It felt like we were on the Amazing Race. Good times.
This past weekend was spent in Hong Kong, visiting Shek-O beach in order to soak up some wonderful weather we’ve been enjoying. As I write, I’m sitting squished into a budget airline coach seat, en-route to Shanghai for the weekend. It would have been bad travel mojo to leave this until after my first in a long line of trips planned for the month of March. This weekend is Shanghai, next weekend marks the beginning of a 12-day trip through Japan and Korea, and the week after will take me to the Philippines for a break from being especially touristy.
This is going entirely too quickly. Kind of like eating a lobster tail.
SIDENOTES –
Best Meal: Aqua, atop One Peking (my first blowfish experience…unreal!)
Worst Meal: The rotating Restaurant on top of the Kuala Lumpur Tower
“Wong’s” – as it has been affectionately labeled by dozens of international students who grace its outdoor seating – is probably one of the least impressive restaurants I’ve encountered in the past two months.
Its walls are plastered with 8.5 by 11 multicolored printouts of menu choices. The makeshift wallpaper of Cantonese characters is about all the ambiance that can be found. Old booths line the inside, as folding tables and the stools I used to sit on in Kindergarten foster chronic back pain outside.
But I’m there once, sometimes twice a week. Sure, the food is mediocre – except for the deep fried potstickers and a deep fried fish in sweet and sour sauce – but that still isn’t worth shivering outside for two hours. Why go? There’s something special about Mr. Wong’s. It’s a place where the collectively broke exchange students of Hong Kong descend upon in order to get all you can eat and drink for HKD $40 (USD $5). I’ve met most of my friends here in Hong Kong at Wong’s. Aside from food, trips, classwork, relationships, music, sports, language and culture are digested here. Wong’s is our place to debrief, share stories and find commonalities.
Leaving California I expected these experiences/digestions of the intellectual flavor, but this setting was unexpected. Two months into my journey, I find that the experiences that I was expecting to have are happening left and right, but the surprise has been in the setting. From talking Mubarak at the horse races to arguing the metaphysical need for borders in the back of a pickup truck on a remote island in Thailand, the setting has been awesomely unpredictable.
When I last posted a Lobster “Tale,” Hong Kong was at full capacity in anticipation for the Lunar New Year celebration. On Feb. 3, newfound travel companion Zach and I headed for Singapore. It was the first of two wonderful trips this month.
Singapore is arguably the world’s strictest society. The PAP (People’s Action Party), which has been virtually uncontested since establishment of the country’s parliamentary system, runs a government based off an elite ruling system. Every industry, caste, and community is represented by its most elite members. Their smartest citizens stay home to serve their public in building one of the world’s most productive governments. Streets are scarily clean, standards are brutally high, but spirits seem to be enjoying the same success. I found it to be a remarkable ecosystem that quite simply, works.
After arriving late at night, we turned in immediately, setting out to begin the next day early in the morning. Our first stop was the Golden Mile Arcade to purchase bus tickets for our voyage to Kuala Lumpur the next day. This proved to be harder than anticipated as most shops were closed for the New Year. Nonetheless, we settled our arrangements and moved on to the Singapore Zoo. This was an incredible zoo, and I’d highly recommend it to anyone who is passing through Singapore. We saw monkeys, zebras, rhinos, lions, tigers, elephants, kangaroos, snakes, and giraffes, but the massive Komodo dragon stole the show. This reptile was huge and awesome. I’ve always wanted to see one; check that off the bucket list.
Next was a trip to Singapore’s equally impressive botanic gardens, in which the “Ginger Garden” led to some obvious jokes. The orchid garden was also pretty impressive. Worth a visit. Our last stop before returning to our little India-based hotel was to the most southern point in Asia, Sentosa Island. This was a tourist trap with little of substance and was nice for views, but ultimately negligible. After drinks at the brand new – and very impressive – Marina Bay Sands Hotel and dinner on the 61st floor of Singapore’s tallest building, it was time for bed.
Kuala Lumpur was an adventure. Our bus to the Malaysian capital was like one’s first flight in business class after flying southwest for a lifetime. Our seats were huge, reclined and had on demand video. Such comfort was necessary, as the trip was seven hours of Malaysian jungle. After dropping our stuff in the hotel, Zach and I were off to the Petronas Towers for a photo op. Next up was Kuala Lumpur’s Chinatown, which was admittedly a total dump. Nonetheless, it was nice to see some cool knock-off merchandise in what felt like its natural environment. After that we went to KL’s main park to visit the Islamic Art Museum, which was unfortunately closed. We settled for the National Museum, which was a nice look into Malaysian history. As a nasty thunderstorm rolled across the city, we retreated to our hotel to watch the storm pass over the countryside.
The next day we spent in traffic. Nine hours of traffic to be specific. I’ve never seen traffic like this before. Thank goodness we had our spaceship-of-a-bus to keep us comfortable, because this made LA traffic look like a cakewalk. We retuned to Singapore by 2 a.m. and settled in for the night. The next day we returned to Hong Kong. It was a short trip, but it was a great look into an extraordinarily peculiar dynamic that Malaysia and Singapore entertain with each other. Singapore is incredibly developed, refined and wealthy. Cross the border and it’s impossible not to feel the lack of organization and prosperity that Singapore is hoarding into its tiny land mass (it’s significantly smaller than Hong Kong S.A.R.). I look forward to returning.
The next weekend we spent in Hong Kong, as old friend Geng Wang rolled through the HK for a couple of days en-route to studying in Shanghai (check out his blog). Yet, in what seemed like no time at all, I was back on the road.
This time our band of goofballs grew from 2 to 6, as Mario, JP, Thomas, and Sara joined Zach and me for a trip to Thailand. We went to Thailand for many reasons, but the Full Moon Party was the catalyst. Each month, when the moon is at its fullest, Thailand comes alive with internationals and locals alike to celebrate the new month on Koh Pha’ngan’s Haad Rin beach. Before we could enjoy the Full Moon Party, we had to travel through Phuket, Koh Phi Phi (pronounced “pee-pee”), Krabi and Don Sak. We spent a meaningless night in Phuket Town en-route to an early morning ferry to Phi Phi. Nonetheless, we got the chance to do a brief taxicab tour as we wove our way to the peir. Phi Phi is a small island and is stunningly beautiful. Its four parallel peninsulas create two opposing semicircular beaches. Much like Zanzibar or the Caribbean, the water is perfectly clear, taking on a turquoise hue that is breathtaking. This was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful beaches I have ever been to. We spent the day relaxing and swimming. Over the course of the entire trip I went on a Pad Thai tear, ordering the iconic Thai dish at nearly every culinary impasse. One small Phi Phi restaurant provided the best rendition of the noodle, shrimp and tomato/spicy sauce dish. Despite a valiant effort, this still was not the best meal of the month – more on that later.
After an excellent day of beach, kayaks, snorkeling and relaxation we left Phi Phi for our next destination, Koh Pha’ngan. It took a day of traveling clear across the Thai peninsula, but we arrived safely to our hotel on the northwest corner of the island before the end of the day. Thus commenced the two-day insanity that was the full moon party. It happened, it was crazy, 30,000 people showed up, I slept very little, a few people got burned, ‘nuff said. I also went on an incredible – and slightly illegal (I’m not technically a certified diver) – scuba diving trip, where I saw huge grouper, dove to nearly 70 feet below the surface, swam between a school of barracuda and yellow striped fish, got up close with some live coral and ascended 40 feet through an underwater coral chimney into some of the most incredible sea life I have ever seen. It was a spectacular experience, with good diving, good people and better pictures to account for it.
After three especially tiring days on Pha’ngan we attempted to head back to the airport for Hong Kong. Little did we know that this would be just as much of an adventure as the rest of the trip combined. We arrived too late to the ferry terminal to be in our desired location (Phuket) by nightfall. So we opted for an overnight ferry to the mainland, which would connect to a bus.
This bus was “sure to get us in to Phuket by 11:30,” according to the travel services broker. She is not worthy of the title “travel agent,” that would imply that they were at some level competent. This was not the case. Our overnight ferry got in on time, but our “bus” turned out to be a shuttle. It took us to a waiting area in the costal town of Surrathani, some 5 hours from Phuket. From the waiting area, we were shuttled yet again to a bus stop via taxi. After 45 minutes of the bus “refueling” we boarded our “express bus to Phuket.” Another 45 minutes later, our COMPLETELY FULL (or so I thought) bus was ready to go. It is 9 o’clock in the morning now. Do the math. That puts us into Phuket – which is not the same as the airport – at 2 p.m. Our flight is at 3:30. Suddenly I’m channeling my father’s notorious airport rush, worried sick we’d miss our plane and pay out the nose to reschedule.
To make things worse, our bus began making local stops, handing out the same Mr. Wong style kindergarten stools to oncoming passengers, having them sit in the aisle. The bus was now actually full. There was no more aisle. At a rest stop some 150 km from the airport, the six of us made a decision to ditch the bus and piled into another one of our many unmarked pickup truck-based taxi rides. Quite literally, a man at a roadside strip mall called his buddy, who was 20 minutes away, to come and pick us up in his personal pickup truck. After some nervous speeding through Thailand, we made it on time to our plane and safely returned to Hong Kong. It felt like we were on the Amazing Race. Good times.
This past weekend was spent in Hong Kong, visiting Shek-O beach in order to soak up some wonderful weather we’ve been enjoying. As I write, I’m sitting squished into a budget airline coach seat, en-route to Shanghai for the weekend. It would have been bad travel mojo to leave this until after my first in a long line of trips planned for the month of March. This weekend is Shanghai, next weekend marks the beginning of a 12-day trip through Japan and Korea, and the week after will take me to the Philippines for a break from being especially touristy.
This is going entirely too quickly. Kind of like eating a lobster tail.
SIDENOTES –
Best Meal: Aqua, atop One Peking (my first blowfish experience…unreal!)
Worst Meal: The rotating Restaurant on top of the Kuala Lumpur Tower
0 comments:
Post a Comment