Let's start at the beginning. Before heading up to Victoria's Peak, I wandered around Hong Kong without any plan.
I was in a park in the financial district getting my bearings when I noticed that the park was filled with Asian women sitting together in two's or groups chatting and eating. Some had picnics set out on the grass. There were no men. The ladies were talking in a very animated way. They all looked so happy. As I heard them speaking, I recognized the language. They were not speaking Mandarin; they were speaking Tagalog. They must be Filipino. The park must be their meeting point on their day off.
I sat for awhile watching them interact. Their happiness was infectious. Of course, Filipinas being Filipinas, if I had said hello to any of them, I would have been showered with delicious food. But I resisted the temptation to interrupt their time together and moved on. Mabuhay ang Pilipinas!
Anyhoo, from there I ended up in the botanical garden at the base of Victoria Peak. I saw no one else while I was there. I had the run of the place, so I flitted around. That's when the day started to get weird.
In the garden, there is a forest of bamboo that is taller than I have ever seen. I stood in the middle of it. As the wind blew, the trees swayed and made a vibrating sound. It was entrancing. Depending on who is asking, I may admit that I channeled the "Matrix" movie and did some slow-motion martial arts moves before moving on.
The garden also has a zoo. I found myself in front of the orangutan environment - a huge caged area with many nooks and crannies. A sign gave information about the resident male and female. It noted that they rarely breed. I could see one enormous orangutan high in the cage laying on it's back. But I couldn't find the other. I noticed that the huge one was slowly rocking back and forth. I strained to see what it was doing and realized that I was not looking at one gigantic orangutan but rather two. One was on top of the other. And I was witnessing the event that the sign said is so rare. They were doing the nasty.
I looked around to see if anyone else was near. No one. I felt like a voyeur but I was fascinated. Before I could make a call about whether to avert my gaze, the one that I think was the male got off (...the other one...), sluggishly moved to the side, and sat down. If he had a cigarette, I think he would have smoked it. The other one, the female I think, just lay there on her back looking around. She appeared to be thinking, "Is that it?".
I guess we humans really are related to the apes.
I realized that nothing else in the zoo and gardens could top that spectacle so I left and took the tram up to Victoria Peak. I decided to trek around the path that crowns the mountain for a 360 degree view of Hong Kong and the South China Sea, uncertain of how long it would take.
Like at the gardens, there was hardly anyone else around as I circled the peak. At one point, as I sat looking out over the sea, an elderly man came jogging by. And when I say elderly, I mean ancient. He was decked out in a blue track suit with a matching head band. He looked like a stick figure. As he passed me, I heard this noise - a popping noise in rapid succession. He was farting. And it didn't stop - it was like machine gun fire as he approached and passed. Off he went along the path, the sharp shots fading away along with him. It must be his propulsion system.As I continued along, clutching my towel to mop the sweat, I saw a big stick ahead on the path. As I got closer, I realized that it was not a stick; it was a big, ominous-looking snake. I froze. But the snake was not moving either. It was a stand off. I just stood there for awhile. At this point, about two-thirds of the way around the peak, I didn't want to turn back, so I steeled myself. I broke into a trot and ran around the snake, unwittingly making the strangest muffled, squeaking noise through my pursed lips. As I passed the snake, I realized that it was dead. Maybe it succumbed to the old guy's farts. Crisis averted. Onward and upward.
I finished the trek and boarded the tram for the ride down, my mind awash with visions of a farting blue stick figure and a nasty dead snake. My thoughts were broken by a young man who sat in front of me. I couldn't help but notice that he had this enormous mole on his cheek. From the mole grew this intense patch of black hairs, each at least an inch long. It looked like a paint brush. As we descended the peak, I was transfixed by this appendage on his cheek. When we arrived at the bottom, I shook off the whole mole thing, got off the tram, navigated my way through Hong Kong, took the Star Ferry across Victoria Harbor, and started walking to my hotel. It was rush hour and the traffic was insane.
As I crossed a busy intersection, a guy on a motorcycle came out of nowhere and wiped out in the intersection. It seemed to happen in slow motion, his motorbike skidding along on it's side as he slid along behind it. Another very Matrix-y scene.
After a moment, the slider picked himself up, righted his motorbike, and continued on. Then everyone else started moving again, as though nothing happened.
I couldn't get to my hotel fast enough. This day had been beyond weird.
So now I'm in my hotel room shaking off the day and writing this. My room is on an upper floor of the hotel - a "modest" one teasingly close to the lavish Peninsula Hotel. The seat at the desk faces the window.
I'd like to say that I am looking out at the Hong Kong skyline and wax poetic about it's beauty. But I am not. I am looking at a gi-normous billboard on the building across the street. The advert is for Sisley and it's a pic of a woman cupping her chest. Her boobs are directly at my eye level. They fill the window. I think I'll call the left one "Hong" and the right one "Kong" and call it a night.
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