CNY Part 6: one repulsive bay, one fantastic district, and Hong Kong goes Mexican.

(Note to reader: check out the massive update to parts 3-5 that sort of just happened on a whim today. That earlier stuff is gold.)

And the flurry of fun didn't stop. This post will be a lot shorter (thankfully, I know, you begrudging reader), and hopefully more succinct. I'll get right to it.

Noah and Matt were up-and-getters this day, and set out for the annual New Years' horse races in Sha Tin. Preferring sleep, Ainhi, Brooke, and I decided to make a haphazard trip to Stanley again, just to see what's there. Yeah, the ultimate in tentative plans of action.

We took the train to Central, and then found a bus that went to Stanley. Looking over the map, we noticed an important landmark that we hadn't devoted a lot of time: Repulse Bay. Only pictured was what seemed to be a Buddhist temple.

Yeah, why not.

It was that kind of day.

Except that we forgot that we had actually seen this from Stanley before, as we turned the corner around Victoria Peak on the bus... To a beach.

Oh yes.

To quote myself earlier when I was talking to one particular person in my life: "I got to go to the beach. The sun was shining without haze and pollution for the first time in over a week, kids were playing pretend games in the sand, people were tanning while the warmth actually retained itself. I had the opportunity to take off my shoes and socks, roll up the sleeves of my jeans, and feel the sand between my toes for the perfect therapy of the afternoon, and walk across the beach with the other two. Leisurely, happily."

The sand literally tickled my toes. I had apparently been wearing shoes for that long. The sun soaked everything with a bit of whimsy. Languid, almost, but still with the phosphorescence of the warm day. 

The three of us walked the duration of the long beach. Because it wasn't swimming season, few people were here, and a lot of European families (meaning speedo-clad, middle-aged men) dotted the off-tan sand.


It was snowing at home. I laughed to myself a little as the three of us made our way down to the temple, with even better views of the bay.

 "Repulse Bay" was coined in the British era, hilariously, where the Hong Kong and British navy successfully fended off attack, or "repulsed" a Japanese invasion. Now, it's just ironic, and gladly so.


We took a look at the temple, only to find the greatest juxtaposition of sights in my young life. 

That is a high-rise, metal and glass, way-too-curved-to-be-standing-up apartment complex overlooking the run-down temple. And look where the cameras are pointing.


This is Hong Kong, in one picture.

Eventually, we caught the bus to Stanley and labored through the street market again (and haggling to no avail -- 10 years ago, this was where you got a deal. Now it's just a famous tour attraction and a cash trap; go to Mong Kok East for the real deals).

Eventually returning back to Central via bus... We all of a sudden realized that we were in the heart of downtown, and it was eatin' time. We had heard from others and guidebooks that SoHo, the eclectic international neighborhood near here, was excellent for dining, and looking for a bit of nostalgia to munch on, we headed to the "mid-level escalators", which are literally a series of high-rise pedestrian bridges over the city that have escalators and moving sidewalks the whole route.

And when we got there, our jaws dropped.

Best. District. Ever.

Next to the Italian eatery there was a burger joint which was next to a French place which was next to a Nepalese place which bordered the Irish pub which was next to a Greek place... You get the idea. Some were pricey, but deals were there. There was a bar that we could see from the escalators... And in high definition, you could see an NBA game playing on ESPN. No joke.

Walking around, we took it all in. There were a commotion of dialects and languages being tossed around as people of all sorts of races hopped from place to place. Here, Hong Kong was truly international.

My stomach's internal "good food radar went berserk as we crossed one of the streets. I heeded that call... And stumbled into... una restauranta Mexicana. Taco Loco (though not the chain) invited us with the candid aromas of salsa and dozens of satisfied customers inside, all smiling as they gorged themselves on tortilla-covered grub, salsas, and margaritas.

I looked at the menu. Affordable. Potentially delicious (reading the word "guacamole" made my appetite swoon like a twitterpated boy band enthusiast). Authentic.

For the second night in a row, we feasted.

We were happy. And you know what? Our happiness made us happy. Pleasant. Today was perfectly easy. For once, we weren't a massive group of definite tourists. And for a second, we were back home at our local lugar de comida Mexicana. Not exactly cultural immersion in its fullest, but it was a night to remember as the discovery of my new favorite district in the city. Expect to hear "SoHo" a few more times this semester.