Hong Kong and home

30 November. Our final day in Italy, in Europe. The trip’s coming to an end - now it’s the homeward leg.

We saw Rome the last time we were in Europe. It’s a big sprawling city, and I’m not keen to return. Once you’ve seen the artworks in the Vatican, the Colosseum, the Forum, the Trevi Fountain and the Spanish Steps you’ve pretty much done Rome. Ok I might be accused of being a heretic, or a peasant, but that’s my opinion. Perhaps if we were there on a sunny Sunday we could cycle the Appian Way, but it’s not going to happen this time.

So we’re staying at Parco Leonardo, just one train stop from Rome’s Fiumicino airport. It’s comfortable, it’s quiet, it’s economical, and it’s practical for our morning flight. Even better, there’s a huge shopping mall over the road, not that there’s a lot to buy.

Arriving in Hong Kong is like revisiting an old friend. It’s a bit like flying in to the Northcote Shopping Centre, only a little bigger and with worse traffic.

And it’s the first city on our entire trip where we don’t immediately give ourselves away as tourists as soon as we open our mouths.

During our last visit we stayed in Mong Kok in a tiny apartment where there wasn’t enough room to swing a cat. This time we’ve gone up-market, and our apartment is on the island within easy reach of the central train stations and ferry terminals.

Even better, we’re on Graham St where the local food market’s located. You’re not going to get a more authentic introduction to old Hong Kong than this. The apartment’s still not huge. A swing of five cats tied end to end would mark out the main living space, though it would probably be fairly noisy.

We don’t have a big agenda for Hong Kong. It’s more just a bit of shopping and R&R at the end of the trip. But one place we missed last time was Macau.

Situated across the bay to the west, Macau is another SAR (Special Autonomous Region) ceded back to China in 1999 by the Portuguese, who had been there since the 1500s.

But a substantial blight on this otherwise delightful island are the gaudy and ostentatious hotels and casinos that first started springing up in the 1960s. It would be fair to say many Chinese have a penchant for gambling, and in the absence of casinos in Hong Kong and the mainland, Macau is rather popular. So much so the 15 minute frequency ferry service from Hong Kong is about to be superseded by a 50km bridge. Sad really.

Like Hong Kong the motorised traffic in Macau is dominant and it’s not that pleasant to get around on foot unless you’re in the middle of the old town.

It’s got a long way to go to becoming pedestrian and cycle friendly.

The fort is a welcome relief, rising above the traffic and crowds.

Built initially to protect the nearby church (of which only the facade remains after a fire), the fort was repurposed to protect the island from the Dutch, which its large number of cannons did extremely well.

I’m helping to do a bit of repurposing myself - the cannons for Gamblers Anonymous.

True to form our last evening in a city sees us splash out on local cuisine at a good restaurant. When we were last in Hong Kong we found Cicada, just off the Mid-levels escalator. They did an excellent range of Cantonese dishes, and I’m hoping we can do a repeat. Sadly where they were is now just a large hole in the ground pending the construction of a hotel, so we look elsewhere.

As luck would have it, we find Chilli Fagara quite close to our apartment, and despite the Reserved signs on the tables, they agree to seat us. Very small, authentic Szechuan which means bold flavours, and with a real chilly bent - three levels of chilli in fact (tang, ma and la), in increasing hotness. We choose one of each, and it would be fair to say that by the end of the evening we’re breathing the fire of a Chinese dragon, and my beer runs out a couple of mouthfuls too early.

Very tasty food though, but right on the very limit between pleasure and pain. When we get back to the apartment and look them up on the Internet we discover they’re well regarded with great reviews, have just been awarded a Michelin star, and are expanding into a second restaurant. Lucky we got in indeed.

Arriving in Auckland we’re met by Pauline’s Dad and whisked home. It’s good to be back. I’m eight weeks shaggy and desperately need to visit Bob the Barber, followed by a shower, and an appointment for new hearing aids - my old ones expired in Europe. Then there’s Christmas to look forward to.

But most of all it’s good to be home to get back in touch with friends and family, and to get back on two wheels again. If there’s one thing travelling does, it’s to remind us just how good home is. And it gives us a breather so we can start planning the next trip. Mightn’t be for a while though. 2015 has other priorities. 

 I’m delighted you agreed to marry me Pauline. Hope you enjoyed our Proon.