Part One of Journey: Hong Kong

Right now the time is 11:40pm. So technically, it's not toooooo late. But after an extremely early start (3am yesterday morning), followed by two flights and delays, 24 hours later, without a wink of sleep, it is starting to feel like I'm floating in the clouds.

The view on the way to Sydney passing over the Tasman Sea

My flight to Hong Kong (apart from the screaming babies, yes, plural) was not too painful this morning, largely because the flight had literally only about 50 or so people on it and so we could have as many seats as we liked. I'm now hoping my 13 hour connection to Rome will be similar....but looking around me in the departure wing it doesn't look too hopeful!

On my way to Hong Kong, I decided I would risk it and make a mad dash to Kowloon in my 6 hour layover (not realising I would in fact have plenty of time to stroll around at my leisure). So as soon as I was off that plane, I was through customs, withdrew some HKD, bought a train pass and off I went without further ado....with all my luggage in hand...not a smart move. I had three coats, four pairs of shoes, a computer, about 7 books, not to mention 2 spare changes of clothes, a towel and personal items. (If you're wondering what kind of crazy person carries that much for 4 flights, it only happens to those of us who try to push baggage limits and end up with a strict check-in lady).

So, I arrived in Kowloon only to realise it wasn't the train station I was imagining (Tsim Sha Tsui) and completely forgot that the only way to get from the Airport Express to the city was to taxi. Thank goodness taxis are so conveniently priced (take note, Wellington) otherwise I would have been stuck on the underground, severely disappointed. But things always sort themselves out eventually. I managed to bump into this German lady and her husband that I recognised from Sydney and who turned out to live in Kowloon. They gave me the low down, told me where to go, and not to worry about the time. They also offered to share a cab but said it wouldn't work, pointing to their trollies and trollies of luggage. I later saw them in the taxi next to me at an intersection with the boot held shut with a few bungy cords and suitcases all over the show. The taxis are kind of like in Bangkok, where they ALWAYS manage to eradicate ALL boot space by putting the engine in the boot....I think...I don't really understand.

Anyway, so I finally get to Kowloon, driving down the glittery streets, amazed at how many incredible buildings and new malls have cropped up since I was last here only three years ago. If you haven't yet been here, I highly recommend it as a stopover. It really is one of those places that you just have to see; it's so alive, and so vibrant. It is the epitome of "luxe living", so I felt extremely out of place with my thousand bags looking very un-cool on a Friday night at the Star Ferry terminal.

Hong Kong at night, as seen from Kowloon

Whilst waiting for the light show to begin, I devoured a delicious mango-strawberry frozen yoghurt, and then had a slightly awkward experience with a Hong Kong family. It started with "excuse me...", which made me panic that perhaps my wallet had plunged into the sea beneath us. But no, instead, the mother attempted to have an entire conversation with me about my eyelashes and mascara in Cantonese (to clarify, I don't speak Cantonese). At least, this is what I understood the conversation to be about because she kept trying to touch my eyelashes. In the end I trawled through bag to find my mascara, which just so happens to be one I would not recommend to anyone. The all gaze in astonishment and the daughter whipped out her Hello Kitty iPhone, complete with bunny ears, to take photos of the mascara and the brand name: "My-bell-eeeen". What else could I do but laugh and smile?

Eventually, the light show began, though there weren't as many lasers as I was expecting and in the end the heat got to me, so it was back to the airport I went. I started writing this at the airport, as I said I would in my previous entry, but had to finish in order to board the plane. Waiting in the foodcourt at HK airport  after a long long day and no sleep was making me feel like a hungover alcoholic beside KFC, so I decided I felt like some kind of Asian cuisine with rice and vegetables. I hunted down the perfect picture of what I felt like at a popular restaurant, thinking this is the fail-proof way to order food. At first I was disappointed when the cashier told me it was noodles and not rice, then I was confused when it cost HKD$22 less than expected, but that was nothing compared to my disappointment when I was handed a bowl of white, fishy liquid, filled with wormy rice noodles, three spongy fishballs (which make me question where the fish is hidden), and three triangles of what I first thought was tofu, but later realised was some form of rehydrated fish. I told myself, everyone around me is eating this, just do it...you can get through it. I managed a bit, but it was all too much....I was so envious of others wandering around with these really great meals, wondering why I managed to fail so terribly at my ordering. On a new hunt for something more edible, I managed to track down a Starbucks which could provide me with warm chai goodness, at least until my flight departed.

My attempt to capture some of the HK light show

Again, my Cathay Pacific flight was delayed, but only by half an hour. When we did finally get onto the plane, I discovered I was sitting with a guy my age from Adelaide, Jack, who was on his way to Firenze to study Italian. However, I feel sorry for this poor boy who got to experience Cheyne and her aura of strange occurrences for a whole 13 hours. As neither of us had slept in a really long time, we decided we were going to try and sleep the whole way there. My mother kindly gave me a very strong sleeping pill to take on board this flight that would surely knock me out. The problem is, last time I took one of these tablets, it didn't really work. So I decided to take it before dinner, on an empty stomach and dead exhausted. As I began eating my delicious meal, I couldn't figure out why my food all of a sudden became bitter, thinking the vegetables must have been off or something...but then my vision started blurring and I was spinning. I felt like I had just taken some form of hallucinogenic, class-A drug, and Jack was in hysterics. I semi remember finishing the meal but at some point I just passed out and woke up an hour later in excruciating pain after having slept with my head hanging down by the arm rest.

I did manage to sleep for five hours in total, but in the other 8 I have no idea where the time went. I watched a couple of movies in German and another in French. I did, however, accumulate two pillows and three blankets, and also managed to wet every single one of them when my tray table fell open spilling my full glass of soda water EVERYWHERE. Why hang the cup holder off the tray table?!?

After arriving in Rome, but if we hadn't had been together, he would still be waiting for his luggage at the carrousel in Rome when our luggage was checked in to our final destinations, and I would still be waiting in a 500m long queue at the international terminal to check-in to my flight to Naples.

We went to about three check-in desks in the international terminal before realising we were not in the right place. But even when we finally got to the domestic terminal, we jumped in the first queue for "Alitalia", without it occurring to either of us that every screen had MILANO written on it. (Jack's flight was to Florence, and mine to Naples). An hour later, I succeeded at checking myself in. God forbid there should be a sign directing passengers! I can speak Italian and probably would have missed my flight had I been alone.

I must admit, it feels so nice to be back in Italia. Flying in was beautiful - it was such a clear morning, and you could see the ocean extending for miles to the horizon. It was the same with my flight to Naples, which, in true Italian fashion, was late because the air hostesses were too busy chatting and eating the plane snacks. Then even when we did arrive our bags took 45 minutes to get from the plane about 200m away, to the carrousel, though I am impressed my luggage made it all the way here!

It's so funny being back here. I'll write more about Napoli soon, but I feel so different. Not different like I'm a different person, but different because I'm obviously not from here. I feel like the way I dress is different, though the biggest give away, I would have to say, is this pale white skin of mine. That definitely needs some work. People seem stare at me as if I'm from another planet, and whenever I offer to do something, either by gesture or in Italian, people immediately say "thank you" to me, albeit in a cute Italian accent. A group of Neapolitan men even started practicing some sentences in English whilst standing behind me at the carrousel.

But finalmente! After 42 hours of travelling I finally got to meet my Italian family again, and was greeted with a million hugs and kisses. It is amazing being back, but it doesn't quite seem real yet. I'm sure once I've had a decent sleep tonight I will feel a lot better. After all, there is no place like home, even if it is my second one.

Ciao dell'Italia! Adesso andiamo a mangiare la pizza napolitana, il migliore pizza nel mondo!