Steamed pork buns with cabbage and chives

They can accuse me of a lot of things, but splurging just because I’m on expenses isn’t one of them.  Here’s today’s delicious breakfast from a street vendor, steamed buns with pork & cabbage (delicious) and pork & chives (good, but not as tasty as the first).  Cost of breakfast, about $0.80.  I’m debating whether to put these on my expense report or not, as a matter of principle.

So much good food in Hong Kong, so little time.  If I lived here, I would look like Buddha.  Only fatter.

Hong Kong skyline, as seen from The Peak

I had meetings in Mumbai last week, and I need to be in Beijing next week for another series of meetings.  There are no direct flights between the two places, so I used my schedule as a good excuse for spending the weekend in Hong Kong – one of my favourite cities in Asia, and culinarily-speaking, probably my favourite place in the entire world.  It was a chance to recharge my batteries, visit old friends, and eat some good food.

Mumbai flight schedules are terrible, but mercifully my Cathay flight took off as scheduled at just before 2am.  I managed to settle in quickly and grabbed about four-and-a-half hours of sleep, arriving just before 10am in Hong Kong. 

My colleagues in Mumbai had presented me with a gift before I left.  What was meant to be a generous gesture has instead turned into a bit of an albatross around my neck.  I’d very carefully packed my suitcase to manage my two-week, three-city tour with nothing more than hand-luggage, but now that I’m lugging along a piece of artwork as well, my plans have been scuppered.   My bag went into the hold, and thanks to the efficient ground services at HKG airport, was waiting for me as soon as I’d cleared immigration.

My friend Sean was waiting for me, which was a real treat.  Flying as often as I do, it’s very rare to be met off the plane anymore, except by the airline representative, hotel rep, or driver.  Aside from flying home to see my parents, it’s rare for anyone to meet me off the plane.  But it’s great to see a familiar face.

Posing next to the mini-busses at The Peak. Mini busses, full-sized Matt

Sean dropped me at my hotel for a quick shower and change of clothes, then we headed out for dim sum at the Kee Club where I proceeded to make a pig of myself.  After eating, uh, “delicately” in Mumbai for the past week, I was ready for some real food. 

They take their food seriously in Hong Kong. Here I am posing with a giant meatball and an oversized tray of dim sum.

I managed to stay awake through lunch, then headed back to the hotel for some serious power-napping.  Got up in time for a quick drink at Sean’s apartment, where I finally got to meet his adorable daughter for the first time after more than a year of Facebook photos.  She lives up to her billing, and is even more adorable in person than she is in the photos.  We hit a local Japanese place for sushi, then followed up with a quick drink at the bar at the top of my hotel.

After a blissful ten hours of sleep, I got up late and wandered the streets around my hotel, grabbing a quick breakfast of pork-and-cabbage buns at one of the local shops.  There was a lot of pointing and gesturing involved.  Sunday afternoon meant more dim sum, this time at the Grand Hyatt with Sean’s extended family, something of a tradition and an event I’ve enjoyed with Sean and his family every time I’ve visited Hong Kong.  Loads of good food, including a roast pigeon ordered especially for me.  (Thanks, Sean!)

From my "food with a face" files, this is roast pigeon at the Grand Hyatt, Hong Kong

After lunch, we headed up to the Peak for a short walk and a coffee.  Though it’s been seven years since I’ve last been here, and the skyline has changed somewhat, it still reminds me of my first trip to Hong Kong.

I’ve got one more evening here, and half-the-day tomorrow – tonight’s dilemma is basically “what should I eat?” followed by tomorrow morning’s dilemma of “what else should I eat”?  Then off on a plane to Beijing, where I won’t have to ask myself that question.  The banquets have already been arranged – all I need to do is turn up.

My iPad has become my constant travelling companion, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.  I load it with the latest movies, TV shows, magazines, newspapers and hundreds of eBooks.  Everything to keep me entertained as I fly around the world.

But the whole ‘Apple’ monopoly still sits uneasily with me.  And I like Banksy.  So this seemed like a good combination.

The sense of smell is an amazing thing.  More than any other sense, a smell can instantly transport us to someplace else.

Cities have smells.  London smells like diesel fumes, from the second you step outside the airport and walk towards the taxi rank.  You know that you’re in Edinburgh from the hops that you can smell across the city, a byproduct of the local brewery.  And there’s a strong, ever-present medicinal smell of disinfectant that reminds me I’m Asia.

There are other smells that transport me, like the ubiquitous Tiger Balm that takes me back to massages on the beach in Phuket, or the burning charcoal of the street vendors on the streets of Bangkok.

Nancy Griffith once likened the smell of a Woolworth’s store to “popcorn and chewing gum rubbed around on the bottom of a leather-soled shoe.”  That’s a nicer description than I’d give of the Paris Metro, which smells like a combination of burning brakes and day-old urine.  Or Mumbai, where the stench, together with an unrelenting humidity, hits you like a wall the second you hit the jetway.

And so it was when I stepped out of my shower yesterday and grabbed a towel at my hotel.  It smelled like Bounce.  And instantly I was transported back to my childhood.  It was comforting and dislocating all at the same time.

Let me explain.  Using dryer sheets or fabric softener is uncommon in Europe, where most people hang their laundry out to dry.  So our towels at home don’t really have a strong smell, even when they’ve come straight out of the dryer.

And most hotels use industrial laundries to clean their linens.  So when you normally grab a towel in the hotel, it smells industrial, a faint smell of chemicals being ever-so-slightly detectable.  But nothing that you would remember.

So it was a real shock to grab a towel off the rail and smell the fabric softener.  It was strong, and floral – comforting, not industrial.  And it instantly made me feel at home – a different home, half-a-world away and twenty years removed.  A powerful thing, smell…

So what takes you someplace else?  Takes you back to a time or a place?  Cut grass?  Your father’s aftershave?  A lover’s perfume?  Gasoline?  Leave a comment below…

Yep.  Pretty much sums up my experiences with Jager…

I seem to bring bad luck to China every time I visit.  Last time I was there, newspapers were printed in black & white and all entertainment was suspended as a mark of respect to those killed in the earthquakes.  This time, it was the mudslides that meant all entertainment was suspended again.  Not exactly what you want to see when you’re trapped in a hotel room with nothing else to do!