Saturday means farewell Hong Kong . . . .

I get up and get moving today. My bag was packed last night, so it's just gathering the little bits this morning. I have a few cocktails-in-a-can leftover, so I leave them for the cleaning crew. I check that I've got everything, and head out into the steamy, humid Hong Kong morning. For the first time on this whole trip, I can see the Sun. Could this mean the rain has stopped just as I'm leaving?

I seem to have more to carry than I came with, even though half my suitcase had been full of clothes for Laurie. I bought over-sized oddities that require a tote bag (poster, square mat, and my damn sun hat). I hit the subway post-rush hour and enjoy the emptiness. (Take a minute to contemplate how long and how clean this train is. It goes on forever. The fines for littering are high in HK, and this results in a very tidy public transit system.)

I head to Laurie's hotel, as she's in the Conference all day but said I could use her room as a home base, as I don't fly out until 6 tonight. I'm a sweaty mess when I get there so I crank the A/C and watch the skyline on the mainland. I'm just in time to watch a monsoon sweep in to town. It's incredible.

I'm not sure how to spend this last day. I have hours to kill, but I don't want to venture out to anywhere I'm not familiar with, because getting lost and missing my flight isn't on my agenda. And the rain has returned, so I'll definitely not fit in any outdoor sightseeing on this trip. I'm okay with that. I feel the absurd mama-guilt that I've bought souvenirs for my daughters and husband, but never found anything for my minimalist teen boy. I'd rather give him nothing than something he doesn;t like or want. But I feel like there right gift is out there. I decide to ditch all my bags and head back to Times Square. I'm very happy to wander neighbourhoods for the day if nothing else.

When I surface from the subway, the rain is on full force.

I love this city. It rains all the time, so why not install umbrella-bag dispensers in every doorway, to keep the floors and products dry? Genius. You just stick your wet, closed umbrella into the slot and it falls into a plastic bag. You grab this at the bottom and shove the dry package in your backpack. Done. It's that simple.

Yesterday I hadn't explored the above-ground levels of this mega-mall. It is absurd in it's size. 9 floors of fancy, high-end shops.

Shops like these do not interest me, but then I notice on the list that they have a Birkenstock store on the 6th floor. This changes things. Up we go.

They have sandals I've never seen before. High-heeled Birks,  thick-soled Birks (for the puddles? for shorter people?) and every odd pattern you can imagine. Birks are one of 3 brands of shoes I can wear, so I know this won't be a purchase I'll regret. I limit myself to one pair, but my mind is expanded with ideas for future options. Next time . . .

I had such different plans for this trip. I planned to explore the islands and hike the mountains. But the weather changed all of that. I'm happy with how things worked out, but I was keenly aware the whole time I wandered the crowded, rainy streets full of interesting things, that I was surrounded by beauty that I just couldn't see for the clouds. I could only catch glimpses of the base of the mountain if I looked down the right streets.

The mix of new and old is everywhere, and I hope this never changes in Hong Kong.

My $10 flip flops. I spent the week in these, and they were a lifesaver. Sure I got blisters, but that's just breaking in my feet to get them used to moisture+straps-rubbing-on-bare-skin 12 hours a day. They were the best shoes to bring on this trip, and the only shoes I'll bring when I come back.

Before I know it it's time to head out to the airport. I grab a last sugary Starbucks drink and head for the train. From now on I'll be under cover, which equals dry. This means my feet get a treat on the ride to the airport. New silver Birks fresh from the box. One less bulky thing to carry on the plane.

 

The districts of Hong Kong fly by my window as we race along the tracks. Pockets of towering apartment complexes gathered along the waterfront and hillside graveyards in the spaces in between.

We take off after 8pm, due to a big delay at the airport that has me cranky and hungry. But this nighttime view of the city makes it worthwhile.

My flight is packed full, so my dreams of napping across an empty row are dashed.  I try to sleep but I just can't do it. The tiny islands in the pacific are bright dots in the pitch black sea. I cannot imagine living in the midst of all that ocean.

We race the sun around the globe and as we approach the West Coast dawn appears on the horizon.

The coastal mountains of BC look amazing and stretch on forever. It feels good to see a familiar landscape.

When we touch down in Vancouver I surprise myself, and start to cry. It's okay. I'm exhausted (I've been awake 26 hours) and starving, and I'm also able to relax; this trip worked, I made it home, and I am exhilarated by this amazing experience. It was incredible, and inspiring. It has changed me forever. And I cannot wait to go back.

I make my connection to Victoria and head home.

xoxo

C