| Hong Kong is a place you pass
through. A portal to Asia. A portal
to a world without time, a world
full of wonders, full of ancient
history, full of excitement and full
of sleepy beaches. A place where
temptations and danger find
trusting, optimistic, and sometimes
weary travelers. Hong Kong has no
real resources of its own but
millions of dollars exchange hands
everyday. Hong Kong is a world-
trading center. Goods come in, deals
are made, goods go out. The
airport was extremely modern and,
hey, it had free Internet access so
I e-mailed home to let everyone know
I had arrived in Hong Kong. I did
not know at the time that my
computer had been hacked into and
that all along my e-mails were being
read.
I loaded myself down with my
backpack in the wet heat and waited
for the bus. It was a long trip into
town. Usually I make it a rule to
time my arrival to a new place very
early in the day so as to find a
place to crash in the daylight.
Besides not being too safe to wander
aimlessly at night with a backpack
on my back (might as well just write
"mug me" on the pack) I have had too
many disappointing morning surprises
when checking into a place at night.
My timing was way off my first
night in Hong Kong.
The bus dumped me off downtown
next to the docks. I mused how such
tall building could be built right
smack next to the ocean at the same
level and not be flooded. I had
gotten off on the wrong side of the
road and just crossing the darn
thing was a major feat. Why "did"
that chicken cross the road? It was
almost dark. I finally got to the
"taxi stand", tumbled inside,
discharged my heavy pack, handed the
cabby the address of a hostel, laid
back, wiped the sweat from my face
and let out a sigh of relief. Long
day.
We crawled through the smoky
traffic graced by tall, thin (very
thin), unpainted rows of buildings,
cement everything and lots of
people. The dark gave no relief from
the heat and the taxi had no air
conditioning. The taxi untangled
itself from the unyielding traffic
and hit a thoroughfare. We were
bumper to bumper going nowhere. I
hung over the seat and pointed to
the paper with the address, "Hostel?
How far?" I mean really, how far
could it be? The driver grinned and
said "No problem, Madam". No matter
where you go in Asia, foreigners are
always given the old "No problem" -
no matter what the situation.
All of a sudden he turned of the
main road and onto a tiny, one car
wide road. Jungle from both sides
brushed up against the car. The
hostel was supposed to be in Hong
Kong city. The road twisted and
turned as it climbed round and
round. I tried to get the driver to
once again reassure me he was going
to the hostel but he only grinned. I
sat in the back seat in the pitch
black and lamented the fact that all
my gear was tightly packed and all I
could find in the dark for
protection was my trusty Bic pen. No
streetlights, no people and not even
their beloved cement. "Well," I
thought "me and my Bic will just
have a go at it, if he tries
anything."
The road wound round and round
right up a small mountain. Finally.
Lights. It was the hostel. The
driver started to laugh. I wondered
how many other foreigners had
provided him this same amusement.
The hostel was dormitory style
with a common cook -house. The usual
hostel rules applied. In order to
get the cheap rate you must do a
'job' every day. The early risers
could pick the job of their choice.
I always had first pick.
The women's dorm had an
assortment of young budget travelers
and the odd middle-aged back-packer
like myself. Most were already
bedded down for the night. A few
were exchanging travel tales over
their brews in the cook-house. I
stretched out my sleeping bag to lay
claim to my bunk and went for a
stroll.
A hint of fog illuminated the
bright evening sky and a wonderful
calm ran over me. Cement patios
joined the buildings so I went to
the far edge and sat on a stone
retainer wall next to the mountain
jungle. I was overwhelmed by the
serene beauty and comfort of the
sleepy bay far below. I could see
the whole bay and other surrounding
islands for miles and miles and
miles. It was full of dozens of huge
ships resting to the chorus of
lonely foghorns. It was an eerie and
extremely comforting sound that
reassured me that the powers that be
were taking care of James and
everything was all right. They would
take care of me too. I thought about
how the bay must have been refuge to
hundreds of ships during times of
war and wondered whose eyes and
heart had seen this harbor in the
wee hours. Did it give them solace?
Back then ships carried guns and
served only to conduct acts of war.
Now they rest from journeys to
distant places. They carry gizmos
and gadgets. Life changes but do we?
I sat a long time. The fog
lifted, the stars came out and I
wandered back to my cozy sleeping
bag looking forward to a sound
sleep. The morning broke with
squeals and groans of frantic women.
I felt the horrid sting and itch
from bedbugs all over my body. They
were everywhere- even on the walls.
People were dragging their stuff
outside jumping about like mad dogs.
One girl stayed behind and smashed
the little critters using her shoe
with sadistic delight. She left
splats of squashed bloody bug guts
all over the walls and on the wood
of the beds. Cursing and cussing
could be heard everywhere in several
different languages.
I too, dragged my stuff outside.
I jumped up and popped my unlaced
boots on. I stood outside, my body
throbbing from bites and my heart
throbbing from the sudden exit. It
might have been funny but I soon
realized my feet were excruciatingly
painful. I threw off my boots to
find they were plum full of bedbugs
and my feet were a mass of swollen
bites. Good grief. I counted 75 on
one foot. My body was racked with
itchy pain for 3 weeks from those
nasty critters. Everything I had,
including myself, had to be
fumigated right down to the seams of
my backpack. Backpackers transport
bugs from one place to another by
not being thorough. I did not want
the creatures for travel companions
so I fumigated over and over. After
relocating, taking photos of each
other's sorrowful bodies, and
marinating ourselves in calamine, we
(the bed bug dormers) caught up on a
few winks, restless as they were.
On the positive side the event
served as a great icebreaker and
introduction to other travelers. We
had long talks. They (the guys too)
were coming and going from all over
the place. Many had just come from
Thailand. Many were old time
travelers and had been on the road a
long time. They were about to clue
me in. My real education was about
to begin.
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