On your last day in Hong Kong, proclaim that you’re sick of Dim Sum and never want to set foot on this island for the next 5 years. (Proceed to crave for Dim Sum the next day anyway.)
Where the assignment phase starts to fade, holiday plans come into action. Hong Kong successfully fogged out all other holiday destinations with the thought of Dim Sum binges and Bolo Baos (as authentic as they can get, considering the fact that some stores in Singapore stuff REAL pineapples into the buns) (Now trending: accidental Hawaiian buns). And just like any other trip to this city, the family rules have never changed-
1. Upon hitting Hong Kong ground, proceed to speak cantonese at maximal volumes to blend in (as instructed and only executed by Dad)
2. On your last day, proclaim that you’re sick of Dim Sum and never want to set foot on this island for the next 5 years
3. Proceed to crave for Dim Sum the next day anyway.
But unlike any other trip, we took to greater heights to seek Hong Kong in a different light. From breakfast with the locals at an unthinkable 8a.m timing to the classic cycling butt-cramp subsequent to half a day of cycling along Hong Kong's rivers, or even watching the boyfriend down his seventh meal of the day. I haven’t even started on the suppers.
While all cleanses and diets became totally dysfunctional (and quite honestly, impossible. Unless Kailan is on the top of your must-have list.), the lingering smell of Char Siew and the distinct sound of Hong Kong-ers chattering at an all-time-high continues to bring charm - even thrift shopping with old women was quite the feat. If I may admit defeat, Hong Kong is one fearless city that’s ever-evolving into a character of its own.
And if I may sheepishly abide by the third rule, CC: Dad, I am craving for Dim Sum all over again.
Lots of love and Dim Sum,
P.S Enjoyed this post? Like it below!