Glimpsing Asia

In retrospect watching Blade Runner a few days before visiting Hong Kong was probably unwise, given the immersion with which I watch movies. I only had 24 hours there, half of which I slept through, and so only ten more than I spent on the film, but it was enough to get a glimpse.

An inadvertent speciality of mine when travelling is making my way through the rush hours of major cities using public transport. It looked simple on the map. I hadn't allowed for the millions of other people.

Leaving my luggage with the surly operators of Hong Kong airport's Left Luggage facility I trailed my little wheeled cabin bag to the airport express train and thence to the high-pressure circulatory system that is the Hong Kong MTR, or subway system. It was New York all over again; millions of purposeful commuters pouring in arterial streams through a labyrinth of tunnels, platforms and trains. Most of the signage was in Chinese with English subtitles except the ticket machines and some of the overview maps, which were just in Chinese.

I bumbled along, having slept only fitfully in 36 hours, tight-lipped lest the words "does anybody here speak English ?" slip out, finding my way somehow to North Point from which my hotel was - to quote the website - an easy five minute walk. Riding up innumerable escalators I came to a choice of six different street exits, none of which suggested my hotel's address. No matter; it would surely be obvious.

An hour later, in a back-lane street market selling live fish, very recently deceased chickens, interesting dried herbs, long-dead and dessicated cephalopods and packets of steaming rice wrapped in large green leaves I asked a woman street vendor about the road I sought. A shrug and a vague wave down an even narrower alley. I was now in Ankh-Morpork and wishing my luggage had legs. Each little street spilled on to another little market, or occasionally back to one of the thundering main roads clogged with buses, trams, taxis, people, bikes, cars and hand-carts, the floors of skyscraper canyons overhung with electric tram lines, bamboo scaffolding, clothes on drying racks hanging from apartment windows, giant neon advertising signs, and thousands of air-conditioning units. I wasn't in Kansas any more and all the signs were in Chinese.

Wandering in ever-widening circles from the MTR station I had several adventures and did eventually stumble upon the hotel, a fine modern luxurious hotel - thanks to my travel agents for recommending it. There probably is a way to get there from the MTR in five minutes but I - I took the road less travelled by, and that made all the difference.

A shower, a sleep and a change of clothes before setting out again into the city streets.

We rode the subway to Times Square in rush hour

Day 2 in New York so now we're locals, crossing the road against the lights, laughing at lost tourists consulting maps, strolling through Central Park and talking about the streets in numerical shorthand.

A relatively lazy day to finish our Stateside sojourn: here's the bullets.
Brunch at EJ's luncheonette (you don't know it ? A favourite with us locals) followed by a walk to the Metropolitan Art Museum and a few hours looking at art. Altogether more edifying than our visit a few years ago to the Tate Modern, which I thought might be a wind-up. A stroll through Central Park; families playing ball, kids on bikes, people sitting under trees reading, lots of dogs. Onwards to Zabar's deli and down Broadway to the subway station where we rode to Times Square (see above). Last-minute souvenirs, then to Grand Central for tea at the (fabulous and familiar to us locals) Food Concourse.

Back at our hotel in Queens it was a hot and noisy night of traffic, sirens and bursts of rap music from passing cars.

Weird People sit at the back

The subway, and New York generally, seems to be a good place to spot weird people. Training the kids not to stare at them is harder. Unfortunately they don't just sit at the back of the bus like they do everywhere else.

A mission to New York

At a distance, and with eyes half-closed (as you do) the MTA New York city subway map looks like one of those diagrams of the male reproductive system, though I'm glad it's not mine. Metaphorically tracing our route through New York today would be strangely disturbing however, so let me stay with the literal.

Decoding and negotiating the ticket vending machines was a return to HAL. A New York-style queue of patiently discontented people (mostly curious tourists making mental notes) formed as we tried to figure out the touchscreen instructions and which way to feed in the dollar notes without them being rejected. Finally armed with four Metro Funcards (more American irony) we thundered into New York in one of those distinctive boxy silver subway trains, emerged into the hazy sunshine and did that Gothic cathedral thing of looking upwards and gawping at the high verticals. It was Yosemite again, without the trees.

Food, a signature motif for our trip, is everywhere here, and good stuff too. We bought tasty filled rolls, cakes, coffee and marched through Battery Park to the Ellis Island Ferry. Street vendors sell all manner of quality and dodgy goods, and who can tell the difference ? It's a public holiday today (Columbus Day) but a low tourist season, and all the New Yorkers were at Cape Cod (we saw them queuing on the Massachusetts Turnpike on Friday) so the Statue and Ellis Island Immigration museum were quiet.

Ellis Island is where new immigrants went to be processed before gaining admission to America. Arriving in crowded and filthy ships and after the initial excitement of seeing the Statue of Liberty they waited days sometimes before disembarking and being subjected to questioning, medical examination and a tense wait for a decision. The place processed up to ten thousand people a day. I found it moving and uplifting, the photos of hopeful people who had fled the privations of Europe to find a new life, much like the waves of immigrants reaching New Zealand a century later.

Of course there were also the six million slaves from Africa, and they were the ones who made it here alive. In addition, a large percentage of the Europeans came as indentured servants, with the interesting exception of New England settlers.

I digress. From the Ellis Island experience to Grand Central Station and a grand architectural experience, as well as a superb Food Concourse, and thence to the Empire State Building, once again the tallest in New York, and a stunning night-time view of the big apple under a full moon.

Finally back to the scrotum and our hotel. Oops, did I say that out loud ?