Sunday, April 27, 2008

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The Stanley Market

by Cinda Baxter on April 27, 2008

in Hong Kong, Travel

Imagine a bowl of Asian noodles tossed on the pavement. That’s the layout of the skinny minny alleys that comprise the Stanley Market. This place is amazing, even if you’re not out to purchase. Found the exact same pashmina and silk shawls I picked up in New York a couple of months ago, 3 for $100 HK (ie, roughly $12 US). It’s a riot listening to the vendors talk about how theirs are “the real thing” even though the packing and labeling is identical on all of them.

The people watching is, by far, the best part. If you go someday, take the #40 shuttle bus from Central; the drive whips you around blind curves all the way along Repulse Bay. Don’t let the name fool you; this is big bucks real estate and the longest stretch of beach in Hong Kong.

P.S. to those taking bets on when I’d get lost for the first time: Whoever holds the ticket for the end of day one wins. Translated, never let a bus driver tell you that even though the stop doesn’t look familiar, it is. It wasn’t. Lucky I’m wired with a good internal compass and travelers’ gut instinct.

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You say “tomato…”

by Cinda Baxter on April 27, 2008

in Hong Kong, Uncategorized

Apparently “stationery” is open to interpretation. The selection of plastic balls shown here paled in comparison to the full selection inside…

…in spite of the “Printing matters” notation on the banner.

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Lunch at the Pelican

by Cinda Baxter on April 27, 2008

in Uncategorized

Today started off on an odd foot. Woke up just before the alarm rang at 8:15, piddled around with the Hong Kong cell phone, took a shower, then tried to burn the hotel down.

Well, maybe that’s a bit dramatic.

The blow dryer—in spite of being plugged into a converter and adapter—decided to go into hyper-drive mode, crescendo at a high pitched whine, then begin glowing an angry red. Never mind the smell of smoke.

Yes, I’ll be borrowing one from the hotel now, thankyouverymuch.

Lunch was fish and chips at The Pickled Pelican, on the boardwalk next to the Stanley Market entrance. Picture this: Mexican beer, British food, and Van Halen pumping out of the sound system. My first conscious thought (coming from someone both sleep deprived and hungry) was “Why aren’t I eating someplace more typical of Hong Kong?” Then it hit me—this is typical Hong Kong, having been under British rule until the late ‘90s.

Fish and chips + street vendors selling beaded kimonos = complete sense. Welcome to the Island.

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First Impressions

by Cinda Baxter on April 27, 2008

in Uncategorized

Is it just me, or does everyone else think it’s weird the very first thing you see when exiting Immigration at the Hong Kong airport is Starbucks?

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Step Two: Tokyo > Hong Kong

by Cinda Baxter on April 27, 2008

in China, Hong Kong, Travel

Flight time: Five hours, 15 minutes

Even though we landed late, and I still had to clear security to connect to my Hong Kong flight, what little of the Tokyo airport I saw (at a running blur to the gate) was beyond impressive. Everyone who works there is beautiful. And smiling. And friendly. And helpful. And the place is so clean you could eat off the floors.

Very cool.

Still on Northwest, and, ironically, on the exact same type of plane, in the exact same seat (hint: 35B on a Boeing 747-400 is the best in coach, period). This time, however, I’m in the minority; 95% of the flight is Asian—lovely, warm, friendly, and for the most part, English speaking (the crew is about 75/25, American, though). Instead of a big hulking linebacker type next to me, tonight’s seat mate a delightful, petite Asian woman who speaks fairly good English.

The moment this all got real for me, however, was during the dinner service. Our food came in bento boxes, which I’ve always thought were kind of cool. It didn’t hit me until half way through my sticky rice that everyone else (read: the locals) were picking up the boxes, then eating with them close to their mouths, just like on the Travel Channel. Also, only a rare few were using the western fork—the majority were opting for their knife—another thing seen on t.v. Thank goodness I’m adept at chopsticks (translated: I refuse to eat Chinese food without them).

What really made me smile, though, was the beverage service. One of the American attendants did the standard walk-through—”Coffee? Coffee, anyone?“

Then a moment later, was back again (so soon?), this time asking “Green tea? Green tea, anyone?”

We’re not in Kansas anymore. This is going to one amazing trip.

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Step One: Minneapolis > Tokyo

by Cinda Baxter on April 27, 2008

in Uncategorized

Flight time: 12 hours, 10 minutes

Well, I’m on the road—or, more accurately, in the air—en route from Minneapolis to Hong Kong. My timing was great; last weather report I heard included the “s word” again, along with warnings for St. Cloud that the expected many inches of white stuff was going to be the heavy, wet kind, and that folks should expect downed power lines.

Get me the heck out of Dodge.

Lemme tell you, twelve hours is a long time. Managed to doze a bit for the first few hours, then again for an hour later on. By 5:00 Hong Kong time, I felt wide awake and “in sync” (which I know will be a mere memory by the same time tomorrow). Added bonus: One of my favorite Details customers (who shall remain nameless, in case NWA is reading and takes issue) was one of the World Business Class attendants. Even though I was seated in coach, she popped down to deliver bags full of “goodies” a couple of times, and told my attendants to give me anything I wanted. Talk about star treatment; it’s the first time I deplaned with more stuff than I boarded with.

Gotta love those little dopp kits (everything you could ever need, right down to an extra pair of socks a some slippers).

Thanks You-Know-Who-You-Are (grin). Very much appreciated.

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Mom in My Pocket

by Cinda Baxter on April 27, 2008

in Uncategorized

I truly have the most thoughtful mother in the world.

Along with my birthday cards (which will be opened atop the Great Wall), she sent a little pink tissue-wrapped bundle. Very mysterious. So Friday morning, while we were on the phone prior to my departure, she tells me to open it, and that the contents are supposed to go along on the trip.

Inside the rose colored bundle is the little stone I gave her with a handpainted cross on one side, and “God is my Rock” on the other. It’s accompanied by one of her engraved calling cards, with a handwritten note on the back:

“I have carried and treasured this, and would like for you to take it with you to remind you that, though I won’t be with you physically, I will be there in thought and spirit. I love you, Mom”

I am blessed beyond measure.

The stone’s right next to my passport, and will be with me every step of the way, Mom.

And p.s.—I love you too. xoxoxo

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