Travelog 3: The Best Laid Plans

Yesterday, I had the day all planned out in my head. It looked like this:

• Get up, get the ablutions out of the way, write the travelog. (Okay, this got done)
• Go to the top of Victoria Peak
• Have lunch at Tim Wan Ho. Yes, I know there is one in Melbourne. Don't care. 
• Maybe get to a museum
• Find some cool trinkets
• Go to some stunning, local place for dinner.

The day looked nothing like that at all. Mostly, because it was raining.

There is not a lot of point going to the top of Victoria Peak when it is raining. You can't see a bloody thing, even if the tram ride is supposed to be pretty spectacular. We've left that for another day. 

I had a thought earlier in the week that I might take the boat out to Macau. Having lost a day of sorts, I don't think I'll be doing this. If anything, there is far more around here to explore. I'm quite happy puddling around, my Octopus card giving me the freedom of the city and just having a mooch. This is why I go on holidays. To mooch.

So, yesterday didn't go to plan. After a late start, partly due to a good book, partly because I couldn't be asked and partly because the stupid jet lag still has me on Melbourne time, I woke at four am and battled from then on. 

Despite the rain, I walked down the Jordan Road to Tsim Sha Tsui or TST as it is know. The people watching is stellar. Nearly getting poked in the eye with umbrellas is great fun. There isn't much room for that thing called personal space, but you get used to it.

The walk took me down the the Peninsular Hotel and the waterfront. It would have been lovely, but it was raining.

Next, onto the Star Ferry. This too would have been extra wonderful, if it wasn't raining. The trips takes about five minutes, but as with all things, it's great because a boat is concerned. I love travelling by boat. This will be done again before I go when I can see more out the window than drizzle. 

By this time, it was after one and I was getting peckish. The idea was to find Tim Wan Ho, a dumpling chain, probably queue, and find some chilli wantons. Now, I have a pretty good sense of direction. I can also read maps. No I don't have testicles - I'm just a capable person who can read a map and I'm just normally pretty sharp when it comes to directions. Maybe it's because I'm in the Northern Hemisphere and the sun is in the wrong place (I had this trouble when I moved to London - it took forever to work out that the South side was the sunny side) or maybe I was just a bit hangry and emotional because I was in need of chilli wantons. I couldn't find it. I asked three people. They all gave me different directions. After an hour looking about, getting caught in a packed out Filipino mall complex, passing by Tiffany, Burberry and all of these other high end places, along with a heap of street people, I gave up in despair and headed North in search of sustenance.  

I found this sign nearby too. Smirk. Snigger.

This decision to go up the hill bore fruit. Stumbling across the Central - Mid level escalators, I took a ride up the hill. These escalators are as legendary as the steep hills which line the island. The escalators are there to assist people getting up from sea level to the hills. First thing in the morning, they take people down the hill, then from late morning, they reverse and send people up the hill.

One thing about escalators here which I love. You stand on the right, let people pass on the left. It makes SOOOOO much more sense than the way we do it at home as most people have their bag over their left shoulder and it gets in the way (or maybe Melbournites hold their coffees in their right hand - dunno - I like this way better). They also ask you politely to hang on. Anybody who knows me well, knows that I loathe escalators, but I'm  getting better at them. 

Finding myself back on the Hollywood Road, I decided to try the place where I met the guy with the dogs the day before. What didn't twig was that this was a Melbourne style cafe, complete with Western staples - Sausages in Onion Gravy, Eggs Benedict, Toad in the Hole, you name it.

I was hoping not to go the Western food option on this trip, but it was close to three, I was fading and the thought of a decent Reuben Sandwich was just what was required, to be washed down with an apple julep and a sit down for a bit. I'd been walking for three hours, it was necessary.

Oh, a note on food. So much for being dairy, gluten and sugar free - my body will be pleased when I get back home. It's hard to find a drink, other that water, not laced with sugar. They eat a lot of seafood, red meat and pork, but little chicken. I know there are vegetables somewhere - I just haven't seen many. 

After another spin around Man Po, which was still busy and smoky but thankfully minus the film crew, then a turn down Cat Street for some more antique browsing it was back home for a nana nap. 

Later in the evening, it was time to find some food once more. As my body clock is all out of sync, it was a bit later. Again, not wanting to battle or stray too far from the hotel, I went round the corner to a ramen place. I know it's a bit of a cop out, but I was tired - and it's a few steps up from going to McDonalds. The gyoza and ramen hit the spot before tackling the Ladies Market in the rain.

(Side note: I've been travelling alone for long enough that there are times when you are in foreign places when you get a bit sick of pointing and nodding for your dinner and you just give up. I'm nowhere near that point, but McDonalds is good when you've reached breaking point. I passed some Aussies around lunchtime yesterday walking into McDonalds. I wanted to throttle them. They're in the food capital of the world and they go there - seriously... then again, I had ramen for dinner last night - I should not judge)

One thing I never get is why people queue for food. There is this place just around the corner where there are always people hanging about, thirty or forty people at a time. I needed to investigate.

It appears, this place does souffle pancakes. By this time, it was close to ten pm. My fitbit said I'd walked 15 kilometres and over 20000 steps in the day. It would be rude not to try one of these things. 

Gotta say, it was all fluff and air and sugar, but it was worth the wait even if it was $8 a hit. 

I'm also still unsure how anybody around here isn't either diabetic or chronically constipated, but there you go. 

So, armed with the Black Sugar Premium Souffle pancake, I walked the drizzly streets back to the hotel, pondering that for a day that didn't go to plan, it really didn't turn out all that badly at all. 

Today's Song: