Malaysia & Hong Kong · Chapter 6
Time to go home
For the second time on this trip, I’m in seat 11k of a Cathay Pacific flight. This one is a significant upgrade to the prior one, but I’m already getting ahead of myself by around 24 hours. Let’s rewind and start from how every day in HK started: a mild hangover, a banana, and writing up the previous day.
After emerging from my pit, showering and packing most of my stuff up, the weather was kinda grey but by the time I’d finished typing it was full on sunny, not a cloud in the sky. But, impressively, only about 19ºc. Today’s high was forecast to be only 22ºc, at least 5º lower than any previous day. To put it another way: the weather looked perfect.
Slow and steady loses the race
Tom dug out Java’s muzzle and some biscuits for her, and the three of us went out. I was escorted to the start of the nearby trolleybus tram line and given Tom’s Octopus card. I would be riding by myself, while he and Java went for a bit of a walk and then got a cab to where we’d be meeting, in Central.
I got prime spot in the front seat at the top, with an open window facing forwards and, for most of the ride, barely anyone else around.
It’s an excellent and iconic form of transport but my god it’s so hilariously slow. It also follows the MTR route precisely, is more cramped and expensive, roasting in hot weather, significantly slower, and only accepts one form of payment. In short there are almost no benefits to taking one of these trams unless you just want to take the tram because taking the tram is one of the boxes you want to tick in Hong Kong.
Ride a tram in Hong Kong: ✅
It was fun though. One other reason beyond box ticking is if you want the opportunity to try a bit of Hong Kong street photography from a somewhat elevated viewpoint. Especially if you want to take photos of other trams.
Which I did. So I did.
There was this one bit where I thought maybe everyone would have to get off because it looked like the tracks were fucked. But no, we ploughed our very slow way straight across.
Tom and Java had had their walk, waited for an Uber Pet, got the Uber Pet, and made their way down to the Central Ferry Piers far, far quicker than me. I cannot overemphasise how slow the tram is!
After however long it was, by which time I was genuinely bored of riding the tram, I got off somewhere near central and this mad Louis Vuitton building.
From here I still had to walk for, I dunno, 15 minutes or so to get down to the piers. Across the road, up the stairs to the elevated walkway, through a few of those then into the IFC mall and out the other side. I was weaving and veering like a pro. Tom said to meet at pier 7 because I wanted something to eat and there’s a pizza stand there which opens at 1200.
Got there at 1208, and it was not open. Wandered up to pier 5 to check the timetables for the ferry we were going to take, and one was leaving right that instant. Next one wasn’t for half an hour. Oh well, back to 7 because surely the pizza guy had opened by now?
Nope.
But just across from the pizza place was a skewers place. Not just skewers, but also all three kinds of sake, beer, and whisky.
We had some cheese rice cakes, a chicken skewer and a beef skewer. They filled a hole. Grabbed a Coke Zero from a nearby convenience stop and then we went back to pier 5 and got on the fast ferry to Cheung Chau. Java was ordered to be muzzled, and we were escorted to the VIP “seating for people with pets” bit of the boat. It was next to a window, but the windows didn’t exactly make for a picturesque ride.
Oh well. The boat ride was comfortable enough. No outside space (the slower one has some). Another dog was brought on board in a pram, and was much well less behaved than Java who just wouldn’t sit facing one way for longer than 5 seconds at a time.
Cheung Chau
About half an hour later here we are at Cheng Chau. I’ve never been to any of the outlying islands before. Well, that’s not quite true, the airport is on Lantau island and I’ve also visited the massive buddha there 20 years ago. But this place is something else - a car free, zero high rise, but no less intense and busy island than the main one. Just in a different way. I should stop trying to describe it with words and just get on with the pics, because it was stunning.
Oh, hang on. I’m about to be served breakfast. The written and video version of this post will probably have a photo of it towards the end, but for now I’m going to stop composing this and chow down.
[… time passes …]
Oh, that was nice. Anyway where was I? Oh yeah, Cheung Chau. What a gorgeous place. Tons of boats in the harbour, loads of people around, lots of shops and even more restaurants. We just explored the area for a bit.
Tom was trying to remember a place where he ate before. A local woman saw us looking lost and tried to help, but the description of “it was a dim sum place that had nice noodles” didn’t exactly narrow things down much. We walked around some more, and I popped into a temple.
Back outside we wander along another street and then there’s a voice behind us.
Tom? I thought it was you!
Sure enough, Tom got recognised by a local - two locals in fact, a couple that own the brewery that’s here on the island. Because of course he knows them. He asks them about the place he’s trying to remember and they say it might be the place opposite HSBC with an unassuming green frontage that specialises in dumplings.
We head to HSBC and find an unassuming green frontage of a restaurant that specialises in dumplings - or at least, it does on the days it’s open. Today was not such a day. Quite a few places were shut on Tuesdays, in fact.
Oh well, back past the ferry pier and towards the much less busy part of the waterfront. We eventually pick somewhere to sit and eat and it’s great. The portions are enormous but the food is yummy and I almost die because fuck me, the chillis in my salt and pepper tofu were not fucking about.
Washed it down with a Blue Girl lager, because Blue Girl lager is aggressively advertised all over the place and that advertising worked. And there’s a guy just over the way wearing a Blue Girl shirt, drinking Blue Girl.
Blue Girl lager is gross. Like, the lowest quality cooking lager you’d buy by the crate for about £4 in a Calais supermarket. We bought a second bottle. I mean, the weather was hot and Blue Girl was wet.
Note the branded parasol.
Back up towards town, we walked through the main square, I guess? And up to the nearby beach.
There’s views across to Lamma Island, which I have been referring to as Battersea Island on account of, well, take a guess.
There’s a music festival next to that power station this Saturday.
Just back a few steps from the beach is Islander. They don’t currently have any taps installed, nor a licence to drink inside, but they’re working on it. We buy beers for the ferry and Tom takes a couple more home on top.
Back down in town, the ferry is in about 20 minutes. Enough time to pop to the loo but not for a game of snooker.
Like I said earlier, there are two ferry services between Hong Kong island and Cheung Chau, the fast one with no outside space and the “ordinary” one which has some. Well, we missed the ordinary one so got the fast one again. Staff at the pier much grumpier than on the mainland, not only did Java need to be muzzled again but Tom was charged a fare for her!
So long Hong Kong
Got a cab back to the flat and dropped the dog off. Went round the corner to have a couple of beers while watching locals take that instagram photo that everyone takes. Everyone except yours truly, that is, I still don’t have one. It was funny to watch though. There is a police van right next to it, with 3 police, just to periodically sound their siren and shout DON’T BLOCK THE TRAFFIC or whatever, whenever someone decided standing in the road at rush hour was a good idea.
The bus drivers around here don’t give a fuck and are haring round the corner so it’s especially wise to follow the police advice, but man, this police force has the resource to dedicate 3 coppers and a van just to shout at idiots taking pics for the ‘gram?
Round the corner, a bit more food: I’ll have some raclette bricks, please.
And then back to the flat. Time to completely finish packing and wait for Simon to return, quickly have a work call, and then say our goodbyes. Gents, if you’re reading or listening to this, allow me to repeat what I said in person: it was so great to see you and I had THE BEST TIME in Hong Kong, and cannot thank you enough for your incredible hospitality.
To the airport, then
Tom escorted me down to the Kennedy Town MTR station and gave me a suitable send-off.
MTR to Central. Find a sign to “in-town check-in”, because I wanted to drop my bag off. The lift says it’s on floor L2. At L2 I can’t find in-town check-in anywhere, in fact there’s hardly anything. I get annoyed and am on the verge of giving up, getting back into the lift to go get the airport express train when, wait, what? This lift says check-in is on floor G! And so it was. A kind lady helped me with all the machines and labels and stuff and, relieved of the giant suitcase, I could carry on with my journey and get to the lounge. Tried to make little video of the whole thing, not sure how successful I was.
The HKIA departure experience
Sorry sir, the machine cannot scan your face
The automatic immigration gates didn’t want to let me leave Hong Kong so I was directed to a manned desk. Then at security my stuff was sent for a secondary check. A very stern looking man practically accused me of having some weapons and stuff in there. But then he couldn’t be bothered navigating the language barrier and just waved me away.
I felt completely bamboozled inside the airport. I’d departed from here only as recently as March, but I dunno if I’d come through a different bit - like north vs south at Heathrow T5 - I didn’t recognise where I was or anything. I mean, I was also quite tired and it was 9.30pm or so. What I did know was that I didn’t want to go to the Wonder Eggshell.
As I walked, I listened to George Cloney talk about Monday and “spotted” some typos and omissions. D’oh. I also found its correct pronunciation of Huaqiangbei to be simultaneously funny and unnerving. A real clone of me would butcher these things in the same way as meat-me does, surely? I mean at the very least it’s a proper tell, if I were to ever switch off all the “THIS IS A CLONE” things to try and fool anyone.
Anyway, piss off George. Eventually I found the Cathay lounge, a lounge I’d never been in before in fact: The Deck. Grabbed a seat, some champagne and a couple of tiny tiny cakes. The woman who poured my drink asked if she’d poured enough. She had.
Another glass, and then I decided to leave already. The Deck is by gate 6, but my flight was leaving from gate 45 which was quite a distance away. However, The Bridge is on the way near gate 35 and I’d been eagerly looking forward to it, ‘cos it was great last time I was there.
In The Bridge I turned left instead of right, and the left bit isn’t as good as the right bit. Still, though, champagne ‘n all. The woman who poured my drink asked “just the one?”. Yes, just one (at a time) thanks. So two of those then I wandered down to the gate, nice and early, moderately afraid if I stayed seated in the lounge I might fall asleep. My flight’s departure time was 15 minutes past midnight.
Boarding was pretty prompt, priority honoured well, and I got into that seat I mentioned way back at the start: 11k. It’s not the furthest forward seat on the plane, because there’s a first class compartment up ahead, but it is the first row of business. This is a 777 of sorts and fitted out with Cathay’s latest seat, the Aria Suite. I was VERY excited to be experiencing this, and not disappointed at all. I love it.
Cathay Pacific flight CX255 HKG-LHR
First things first, let’s get all the menus out of the way.
There’s storage everywhere, all perfectly reachable and well located. The headphones are already plugged in, but tucked away in a little cabinet and you can use your own bluetooth ‘phones if you like. The TV is HUGE and it, plus the tablet remote, are super responsive. There seems like a vast amount of content available. It’s such a good little business class suite, this.
Some pre-departure champagne came around as well as a hot towel, and I started watching … something. Can’t remember what. Oh, I wrote it down, apparently it was CRISIS NEGOTIATORS. We pushed back, the safety briefing happened, I hung up my breakfast order, and then I fell asleep. Don’t remember anything about CRISIS NEGOTIATORS. Over the next couple of hours I woke up a few times just because of turbulence. No staff around, no-one woke me up for food or offered me any drinks.
I put on another film, didn’t write down its name, and don’t remember anything about it because I fell asleep immediately again. Hadn’t even put the seat in bed mode, I was comfy enough as it was. But about 4.5hrs into the flight I was awake, awake enough to actually watch things and so I binged all 6 episodes of Ann Droid.
During this, just as I was steeling myself to use the crew call bell, a very cheerful member of crew turned up and asked if I wanted to eat and drink. Well yes, yes I do. I had the sweet potato rosti and some champagne, with some jelly for dessert. All very nice. However, this was by far the most turbulent part of the journey. Spilled a bunch of water and had to keep a firm hand on the champagne and plate to make sure they didn’t go flying.
Spent a while playing with the TV and its remote and all the functions, like the one which tells you where the toilets are and if they are occupied.
Oh, apparently this was before Ann Droid and the film I’d had on was called ULTIMATE REVENGE 🤷♂️
EVERYONE had their door shut. Doors on business class seats/suites are so good. The turbulence passed and I put on another film called, erm, ANGRY SQUAD I think. And guess what, I fell asleep and didn’t see any of it. Actually that’s not quite true - for Angry Squad I dozed and kept seeing a couple of seconds of it here and there, for over an hour, and I couldn’t understand a bloody thing that was going on.
Eventually I felt awake enough to be properly awake. By now we were over Europe with only a couple or three hours left, and I started typing this stuff out. As you’ll already know from what I said earlier, there was a pause for breakfast - this bloody delicious quiche thing with bacon and avocado and a tomato that I didn’t eat.
Also present: fruit and a croissant. Enjoyed all that while watching a documentary about Earth, Wind & Fire which I enjoyed very much.
And, well, I guess that’s that. I’m still sat in seat 11k as I write this paragraph, the captain has recently announced that our descent into Heathrow is starting shortly and we’ll be landing in about 40 minutes. I can’t imagine that anything else worth mentioning is going to happen so I think I’ll just abruptly stop.
… only kidding. Descent was loopy and the maps on the giant screen and the handset showed the path brilliantly, in a way I really wish I’d been able to see on the BA flight to KL.
We did a loop over Essex, then another loop over Berkshire, then headed further west before slingshotting our way back to Heathrow.
The map let you zoom in basically as far as you want, to the point where I could find where I live.
There’s also a forward facing and downward facing camera. I hadn’t tried either throughout the flight since being westbound, leaving at 0015 and landing at 0630, we flew entirely in the dark. But just for the last little bit before landing, suddenly the forward camera sprang to life with the runway lights and stuff. Then once on the ground and taxiing there was a lot of detail. Here’s this bored looking bloke waiting for us to park on stand.
And with that, I’m back in the UK. Lovely flight, I only wish I’d stayed awake longer at the start to have a bit more to drink tbh. Never mind. The gate was reasonably close to the border as these things go, the British eGates happily scanned my face first time but my bag took a while to arrive, even though Find My was telling me for ages that it was with me. It was not.
Out through customs, into M&S for a Coke Zero 3-4 times the price of those in Asia. Walked slowly, very slowly, to the RailAir bus stop but couldn’t face getting on the bus just yet. Around the corner there’s a Plaza Premium Arrivals Lounge that I have access to courtesy of the literally shiniest card in my wallet. Took about 10 minutes to be granted access as the two blokes in front of me each had various kinds of grief getting cards scanned or having payment taken for the shower.
A fancy lounge this is not, but it’s somewhere to sit and write this stuff and have some small but surprisingly nice pastries. No bananas though.
Surely nothing else interesting is going to happen on the Heathrow-Woking-Godalming legs of tiresomeness. In fact I started this entire trip pretty much promising I wouldn’t write about that part any more. The only remaining loose end is for me to decide whether to get George Cloney to read all this bollocks out, or do it myself when I get home. I’ll decide about that in a bit.