Hong Kong-ed

One should never book a holiday in a second language if you're anything less than fluent. I did. But I'm a fool. And I like a bit of a challenge. Luckily it all went quite smoothly, just a few hiccups, which I shall share with you now.

So, the evening before flying off to Hong Kong on a city-break-for-one, I had the sudden realisation that I was without tickets! The travel agent told me to pick them up from the airport, didn't he? Consulting my travel documents, nothing was jumping out at me, but then Japanese ain't so reader friendly! Probably a good idea to check with the travel agent in the morning (pride is so over-rated).

After much blushing at the travel agent the following morning, I headed to the airport to pick up my tickets, made the flight, found the correct tour guide, made it to the hotel, and checked in. No problems.

Listening to the tour guide rambling on in rapid-fire Japanese on the coach to the hotel stretched the old listening skills. Managed to grasp the important bits, check-in, personal safety, popular sights... but why did he single me out for a different tour from everyone else? Hmm...

Dumping my bulging bag on the floor of my room, I let out a little squeal of delight that I'd managed to pull everything off all by my wee self. I was also impressed that my room was on the top floor and the view of the harbour from 28 floors up was rather pleasing to the eye.

My rumbling stomach told me it was time to stumble out of the hotel into the bright lights, traffic congestion and 80% humidity. Greeted by the feeling that I was a very little girl in a very big city (and a lingering whiff of raw fish), I confess that I was delighted to bump into the rowdy bunch of American military from the hotel, and didn't hesitate to invite myself to dinner.

Day two began with a compulsory trip arranged by the tour company. When booking the holiday, I was told there was an extra charge for single travellers. Apparently, the travel agent had meant there was an extra charge for a private tour! Must study harder. And so the morning was spent tailing a half Chinese, half Japanese tour guide who didn't speak a word of English! Communication was surprisingly easy - good to know all that money I throw at my Japanese teacher is not wasted! Though I must confess that come 2pm I was dying to break away, do my own thing, and revert back to English.　So I was thankful when I heard the words ‘Kaeru no toki...’ (‘When you make your way back...’), and figured I should engage brain for one last important piece of information before being abandoned in the centre of Hong Kong Island.

What did Victoria do next? She went shopping. Despite my resolve not to waste time or money shopping, I was soon sucked into the plethora of cheap, cheerful street stalls, failing to emerge until the evening. Thus, I missed the most famous temple in Hong Kong and the Symphony of Lights over the harbour. But all was not lost – I found myself surrounded in the thick of the food market, surrounded by unidentifiable yet delicious smelling temptations. No idea what I ate, but it was greasy and good and my stomach survived the experiment!

Then it came to the journey home. Where my Japanese skills had saved me, my sense of direction let me down, and after a lot of wandering and a little worrying, I finally made it back to the hotel courtesy of a rickety old tram. The tramsare part of Hong Kong's legacy and not to be missed, but they're in no hurry to get you home and the subway pass I had forked out for sat virtually unused in my pocket. Never mind.

After emptying the mass of carrier bags I’d acquired and pawing through my new treasures like a kid on Christmas day, it was time to collapse into bed.

Day three was equally adventurous, but that's another chapter...