Rice is Nice

This being Sunday, it was maids' day off here in Hong Kong. Though we got a reasonably late start, the fact that we made it out of central by noon and it was a hot day, I think, accounted for the relatively thin crowd of Filipina and Indonesian maids that were camped out in the few public places available in Hong Kong, including the pedestrian overpasses. Hong Kong is not a place that is accepting of loitering. Even in its many high-end malls, there are no seats for just parking your butt. Yet on Sundays, hundreds of thousands of Southeast Asian women spread blankets on the middle of sidewalks, snack, play the guitar, and braid each other's hair. And nobody seems to bother them.

The ferry to Macau, which is owned by Stanley Ho's company and leaves from a mall owned by his company, on its way to an SAR dominated by him, was smoother than I remember it being. There was no skipping over waves today. But upon arrival, we made our way to Taipa village, had a Portuguese lunch, and then went to the Taipa House Museum. There, you can learn about traditional life in Macau in sea-green colonial houses that overlook a lagoon. And if you literally look over the lagoon, you see the Venetian casino, which is nearly done. Its footprint is large, at least as large as that of the Venetian in Las Vegas. Actually, all over Macau, there are cranes on large sites, apparently building new casino-hotels. The MGM Grand looks like it's coming along nicely, though I'm embarrassed to say that the colors of the building are kind of ugly.

Stephen was beaten down by the heat. He is not built to live in these humid climates. I do fine in them, however. We sought air conditioning by going to the Macau Museum inside one of the old Portuguese forts. Then we strolled by the ruins of Sao Paulo cathedral and the Largo Senado, where we had coffee in a Portuguese coffee shop. I would have guessed there would be few Portuguese left in Macau, yet I saw a lot at the food and beverage establishments that we frequented today. I'm not sure what they do there, other than run restaurants, but many are still there. We walked down the street through some of Stanely Ho's casinos. The casino floors there are shockingly small. Perhaps, most of the tables are in private gaming areas. And there are no bars other than service bars. Restaurants are relatively hidden. If you are not there to gamble at least, or preferably there by invitation, Ho's casinos are not welcoming. We then went in the newly opened Wynn. The layout is more appealing than that of the Wynn Las Vegas. Other than that, it's similar. I parked myself at the bar and taught the bartender how to make dry Rob Roys while Stephen played blackjack. The table minimums were not any different than one would see in Las Vegas, and the casinos weren't busy. This is the same thing I saw a year ago. I'm not sure how Macau, then, creates the numbers that it does, and how people concocted stories of customers standing four-deep around gaming tables, desperate to play. To me, it's like Las Vegas without the revelry. It's quiet (unlike most of China), there's little drinking, and gambling lacks the association with sin that it has in the US.

Macau street, from the Pawn Shop Museum

Look at me! Climbing the ruins of St. Paul's, Macau's best historic site

View of Macau from atop Monte Fort. These gritty apartment block scenes are now so trendy in Hong Kong.

Anyway, I chatted with a couple of Irishmen, including one who works at Wynn Macau, while Stephen won decent money. After that and a great Portuguese dinner, serenaded by the Filipino waiters (they are the multitalented itinerant workers of Asia, I tell you), we came back to Hong Kong.

I got a bit of a late start today, but I decided that I wasn't going to brave the hiking trails that I still hope to conquer some day. I wasn't feeling quite 100%. So, I figured that this would be an ideal day, and Hong Kong an ideal place, to catch up on some gift shopping. I set out for Hollywood Road in Central. I didn't find the first store I'd hoped to find. It just wasn't where it was supposed to be. And after about 15 minutes in the heat, I was already drenched. It was clear, hot, and humid. Last year when I was here, I hiked Lamma when it was overcast, hot, and humid, and sweated more than I did farther south in Asia. For whatever reason, the Hong Kong heat is hard to beat. Perhaps the buildings reflect it all and the concrete traps it. I don't know.

So I made my way farther along Hollywood Road, hoping I'd come across a store that sold old but not valuable bric-a-brac with an East-meets-West tinge. Instead, the street was lined with galleries selling contemporary and ancient Chinese art. On the mainland, much of what was advertised was illegal to export. And if you did find that on the mainland, there would be little chance that it would be authentic anyway. But somehow, Tang dynasty horses and stuff (I can, by now, identify that dynasty, and some others, by sight) make their way here, for wealthy collectors to acquire. So I only saw things that I hope to have later in life.

I met up with Rahul, a friend of a friend with whom I also met up last spring, and some of his American and British friends (including a delegation from the Body Shop) for some high-end dim sum at the Renaissance Harbour View. And then Rahul, his cousin and I went out to Causeway Bay, Queens Road East, and other areas looking for gifts and souvenirs. Some places, such as Goods of Desire (GOD) are great, and ought to be available in the US. That place in particular is a bit like an Asian IKEA, yet far more appealing. But the area in general was just swarmed with locals doing weekend shopping. There was hardly room to move. But eventually, we went in too many places as the cousin was intent on finding a "hanging dragon," though I'm not really sure what that meant.

Stephen and I took our Mr. and Mrs. A for dinner in Repulse Bay (their choice), and saw the south side of the Island. It's a beautiful choice and I can see why the Hong Kong residents would only settle for other beautiful cities and wind up in places like Vancouver. If you can have beaches, mountains, greenery, and fine dining within a few yards of each other, why not?

I was fortunate enough to get a call from my dad this morning, but I was a bit delirious because it was early, and probably also because I was sick. I didn't realize how sick until I got up a few hours later. Anyway, I stayed in all day. I blame the spaghetti carbonara at Stone Rose Cafe in Yangshuo, Guanxi Province, PRC. Fortunately, our hostess, Mrs. A, played "doctor mom" and brought me medicines and water and stuff. I felt like a bit of a bum lying in bed all day at a stranger's house. But it was as comfortable as could be, and from my sick bed I could look out the window over the south side of Hong Kong Island and the South China Sea beyond. Not bad. Being an expat worker in HK and being well taken-care of by one's employer would be a nice arrangement. The views are amazing up here, and there are pools, schools, and playgrounds for the kids. I think there might be a lot of idle wives here, though. Many of them don't work, and many still have a live-in helper. So I don't know what they do. Some were sitting by the pool at this complex all day.

View from the Peak looking toward Central

By the evening, I did muster enough energy that Stephen (who had gone around town) and I went out and got drinks in Lan Kwai Fong (which is a small area where Bourbon Street meets Hong Kong, basically) and then had Nepalese food.

Yangshuo has a reputation as the backpacker haven of southern China. There are a lot of young, Western people who stick around for a while. But it's not as crunchy as I'd expected. It's really too commercial, right at the end of one of China's greatest tourist attractions, to remain that way. If anything, I think that the reputation itself now brings people who look for a trinket or memory of a bohemian hang-out rather than the real experience of it. And I don't know why anybody would drop out to Yangshuo. It's a reasonably pleasant town amidst some natural beauty. But the town is quite commercial, and is not all that big. Most of the restaurants serve pizza, burgers, smoothies, and whatever else these travellers crave. So Stephen and I had pizza for dinner while here. And I did have Campari and soda as an aperitif. But the bars were off-putting, as they all played the same loud music in identical caverns of blue and red lights. So we had a fairly early night, and slept in the next morning. After a leisurely lunch of spaghetti carbonara, it was back to Guilin and off the the airport. Our driver drove her rickety taxi over bad, dirt roads, all in an effort to avoid paying tolls (which actually are shockingly expensive here).

In Hong Kong, we are staying with the mom and stepdad of one of Stephen's college friends. They leave at the Peak, quite literally. The large apartment overlooks the southern part of the island from our bedroom, and overlooks Central, the bay, and Kowloon from the dining terrace. It's pretty amazing. Hong Kong is, quite easily, one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Its streets do not form a grid, though, and things aren't very far apart, which are reminders that this was not started as a Chinese city.

Arriving into Guilin last night was easy, and we were able to arrange our Li River cruise (the only reason why people come to Guilin) at the airport. So we got up early and boarded a van, that would take us to a bus, that would take us to the boat.

The humidity in Guilin is oppressive. The city is reasonably attractive, with some water running through it, and lots of green. It is built in the midst of these large karst outcroppings that make the scenery famous. I guess the ongoing erosion has a dark side though. Our tour guide pointed out one building that fell victim to a large boulder just a few weeks ago. The family that was eating dinner inside at the time didn't make it. The people are really short. They're also quite friendly. The first driver of our day, as he maneuvered around a crowded car-park in front of a hotel, spoke only in American idioms. He would back up into a space and say "piece of cake." Or he derided another's driving habits and then said that he always puts his best foot forward. After each proclamation, he'd say "are you with me?"

We were lucky enough to have sunny weather for the Li River scenery. And it is beautiful, though the heavy boat traffic keeps it from being actually peaceful. Again, much of the scenery was of the sort where you are supposed to see how a rock looks like an animal or a girl or something.

The Li River scenery we came for

Cooking with boat fumes on the Li River

We went on another optional tour, visiting a farmhouse, and then seeing a guy fish with cormorants. The cormorants are large, ugly birds. Stephen got scratched by one on the arm, so he's convinced he'll come down with rabies. They tie strings around the birds' throats, and then send one of them loose in the water. Within 30 seconds, the bird dives, comes up, and returns to the fisherman. The fisherman then squeezes the fish out of the bird's neck and puts it in his bag. Every so often, he allows the bird to eat. It's kind of an ugly process to watch, but I don't think it's any worse than using any other beast of burden.

Ethnic Yao woman sings into traditional megaphone

Cormorant fisherman, fantasizing about joining the circus

We decided to stay overnight in Yangshuo, which is at the other end of the Li River tour. More on that later.

The karst rises out of the land, too, breaking up farm fields near Guilin

I wear this shirt to blend in with the rice fields