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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