Hit up the legendary "cheapest Michelin star restaurant" in the world. We queued up meekly after watching the hostess get into a Cantonese screaming match with an older gentleman, but ended up only waiting like 5 minutes for our table. Most of the fare was pretty standard- well prepared and some of the better dim sum I've had, but nothing that blew me away. But the pork buns. Jesus Mary and Joseph, the.pork.buns. Light and airy with a slight crunch outside and BBQ'd pork inside that melted in your mouth. I could write a sonnet about them and still have more to say.
Flexed my bartering skills all up and down the Ladies Market in Kowloon this afternoon! Narrow lanes crowded with knock off bags, sweatshirts, waving golden cats and every type of kitsch, it was hectic and delightful all at once. I am now the proud owner of a (I'm sure completely authentic) LV duffel bag for the very reasonable price of $10.
Hoofed it all over HK today in my adorable green oxfords...and I was ready to cry from foot pain 7 hours in. Sneakers, looks like you and I will be spending quite a bit of time together on this trip. We'd read about a spa in central district before coming here that sounded nice, so we made our way over hoping to unwind before dinner and drinks tonight. I was thinking wistfully of the lovely place I went to yesterday (that also happens to be directly across the street from my hostel...) but Akoni seemed keen to check this one out, so I figured no biggie. A huge construction project was going on the floor beneath the facilities and it was hard to hear anything over the shriek of drills and hammers. We left immediately and high tailed it back to what I'm now pretty certain is the best place on earth, aka the massage place next to Urban Pack.
We somehow accidentally signed up for a couples massage (despite ordering and paying totally separately) and no amount of language barrier-ed conversation or gestures seemed to get across "hey this is just my buddy and we really don't want to see each other naked" so we just rolled with it. The massage lady spent easily 15 minutes laughing at us because we'd put on the wrong outfits. I was in the mans robe (which failed to meet over my chest by about...a full foot. That sent my masseuses into hysterics. She cupped her own chest, pointed at mine and howled laughing. I don't care, after what she did to the knots in my shoulders I'd still propose) and Akoni the woman's crop top. Clearly, we were killing it.
An hour and forty minutes of aromatherapy-warmed neck wrap-tub soaking-magic massages followed all the laughter. I emerged a changed person. My singular goal in life is now to get that cozy and pampered again. The hunt is on.