Hello, Hong Kong!
I’m finally here and it’s amazing how at home I feel in the city. There’s so much life and activity in Central that I sometimes feel energized by the vibe.
I still haven’t gone out of Central yet, work takes up all my strength. But the good thing is, chasing after stories makes me feel alive. It can be quite a pain trying to get hold of the different parties for the information but when everything falls into place neatly, the rush of adrenalin is addictive. Maybe it’s the buzz that’s driving me on. I just feel more alive, somehow.
I was watching Alan Johnston describing his ordeal on BBC after his release and it brought tears to my eyes imagining his trauma at being held alone for almost four months. And yet he is still so calm and patient. It’s amazing. I have always imagined myself as a journalist like him, reporting from conflict zones but I doubt I will ever have the fortitude to ever make it as a war correspondent.
Thank heavens for free wireless connection and pfingo – I have been making daily calls to the boyfriend and my mum. The connection may be scrappy most of the time but at least it’s free, I can’t complain.
Sleeping in that large bed alone feels nice but somewhat empty. I can’t wait for the boyfriend to arrive on Friday so that we can both explore Hong Kong together.
And I do miss the gang quite a bit. I was walking past Lan Kwai Fong on Tuesday night (it was brimming with people, I so love Hong Kongers and their love for the night life!) and was tempted to pop into one of the pubs for a pint. But I didn’t care too much for drinking alone and suddenly thought how wonderful it would be if everyone was here as well – Jane, Wayne, GQ, Skunk et al. We would probably have a whale of time together.
Do I miss Singapore? Well, yes and no.
Travelling alone is good practice for independence. There isn’t anyone to hold your hands or read the map for you, you got to do it all by yourself. You learn to sleep in a foreign environment, which is absolutely tough for me, and enjoy the feeling of being alone in a strange city. You have to gauge if the city is safe enough for a girl to roam about at night, if talking to strangers is a useful thing. You soak in the sounds and sights on your own terms and most importantly, you learn not to let the solitude get to you and enjoy the moment.
You get used to being just yourself. Not anyone’s daughter, sister, girlfriend, best friend. Just yourself. You learn to live with yourself. And that is really the best thing about travelling alone.