Cooking is fun

I am the proud owner of a Kelvinator fridge right now. And because of that I declare cooking season is on. It is not that I could not cook before, but I prefer having a fridge so as to keep my veggies and leftovers in there. I still have not been able to get myself around to buying stuff every single day (as people here seem to enjoy), and I am not sure whether I will be able to do so in the foreseeable future. Living by myself as I am doing now, I would rather stock up every two days and have a day of shopping 'rest'.

Now, the next step is to buy a microwave or a small oven where I can reheat the leftovers. Not that there were any from my hearty lunch today anyway. :D

Buzzy buses

It has already been two weeks since I moved to my new apartment, and a week since I commenced classes. It is the first time I am attending night school, and I do have to admit that it has brought some sleep alterations. Nothing too bad, though, and I thought I would bring myself to normalize my sleeping habits a couple nights ago. It was then when I became aware of the buses.

I live in a sixteenth floor, one block and a half away from this area's bus terminal. I can actually see the platforms from my window, but in terms of sounds nothing much reaches all the way up to where I live. I mean, I do hear traffic noise but it is not loud enough to keep me from sleeping. Or so I thought. Ten o'clock at night, and the city is still humming its engine-run tune, softer and softer as the minutes go by. Eleven o'clock, it is almost a whisper; sleeping time. Wash dishes, brush teeth, stare at the guitar in the living room; off to bed. And there they come. Closer to midnight, it was almost as if a swarm of petrol-driven locusts had attacked the streets. Here goes one, with a big 'varoom', there comes another, coughing a loud 'put-put-put-put'. One by one they enter the scene until they gather into quite an ensemble of dissonant pumps and cylinders. They spend around half an hour playing, catching up and singing mechanic tunes, and then they disappear as suddenly as they arrived. It has been a continuous trend for the last few nights, which makes me think I will have to reschedule my sleeping times.

Aircon

The remote control for my air conditioner ran out of batteries, so for the time being there is no way I will be able to turn it off. And since one of my flatmate's own air conditioning system collapsed, leading him to spend more time in the common room and since I like my privacy, I am stuck inside my room with a micro-climate of nineteen degrees Celsius. Which is good, since I like cooler temperatures, but at the same time is quite funny since I have to either wear more clothes or snug under the bed sheets, as opposed to simply turning the aircon off.

In a way, it is the exact opposite of people who in winter adjust their home's thermostat so as to be able to circulate with little (or no) clothing inside, and when going outside they must put several layers of clothes on. In my case, I have to pretty much strip before leaving my room, which makes me shiver during the short seconds that precede the encounter with Hong Kong's scorching summer waiting on the other side of the door.

Air conditioning gets added to my list of humanity's best inventions ever (together with others such as the toilet, toilet paper and plungers).

Expo

I share the flat with two other people. One of them is from Hong Kong, and the other from Norway. Last night I bumped into the latter for the first time in weeks, since he had also been traveling. He had been to several places in China, and as he was listing them to me he got to Shanghai. "Dude, you have to go to the Expo", he said, and added: "I mean, I went to Disneyland as a kid and I thought it was the biggest, coolest thing in the world... But the World Expo beat that impression by far".

XD

Piracy

I met up with one of my language exchangees today (he teaches me Cantonese in return for my Spanish), and at some point he started asking me whether I knew a Spanish word he had heard in a film called "Todo sobre mi madre". The reason why he was asking me was that the pirate CD he had purchased only came with Chinese subtitles, and these didn't translate said word. Since his pronunciation was not the best and my knowledge of Spain's slang is limited, I suggested him to download the movie with English subtitles. "But that's illegal!", he exclaimed.

English alert

My English has been under a process of decay for the last three or four months. Slowly, more or less unnoticeable at first, but horribly evident after three weeks of pretty much not speaking it. So what am I going to do about it? Write. So, dear reader, be warned: The English contained in this entry -and probably in the few that may or may not follow- will most likely be full of flaws and cringe-inducing grammatical misuses.

Eventually, my use of the language should improve enough not to stress me out too much whenever I write emails, essays or articles in English, let alone speak in public, private and (oh, no) too private occasions. And yes, I am currently scanning through several 'Learn English!' websites. I guess this could prove embarrassing for a proud non-native speaker who has been studying a language for over thirty years, but it is probably a good thing that I am neither too proud nor have I spent that amount of time learning English (mainly due to age constraints). It would also be provident to point out that my sense of humour should show signs of improvement as I gain a bit more control over the language (I swear, I am hilarious inside my mind).

French goodies

It was Valentine's eve, and we went to a French restaurant for dinner. It was a small, quaint shop in Causeway Bay with dim lights and excellent service. The drizzly, windy evening outside helped build up a awesomely cozy atmosphere.

For entrée we had foie gras. An exquisite French delicacy, foi gras is duck's fatty liver; an oversized organ obtained after force feeding corn to the aforementioned avian. The technique is known as gavage, and apparently it is forbidden by law in some European countries for its negative consequences on the birds' health. In a way, the principle is similar to what the Japanese do to their wagyu, or Kobe beef.

I had heard about foie gras a fair bit in the past, but I never imagined it would be this delicious. I do not think I would be willing to pay that amount of money every week, but it was very nice to try it once. Or twice. :P

Fish soup. Cannot remember whether it was cod or some other slippery friend, but it was hearty and flavourful.

The salmon entrée was... interesting. Have not decided yet if I loved it or thought it was okay; the novelty of eating salmon with mildly sweet orange bits took me by surprise, so I was half pleased, half startled while I was eating it. Not sure what Angel made out of it in the end either.

Unfortunately, the photo turned out a bit blurry, but the steak au poivre was superb. I love it when they actually cook the meat the way you ask for. In this case, it was bleu. Nom nom.

The name of this dish escapes me right now. It was some sort of duck-based stew. Needless to say, it was amazingly tasty. The sausage was made of duck too. Angel was happy. She has an excellent instinct when it comes to choosing food items from a menu -way better than mine, and I used to think my instincts were good.

We were quite full after the mains, but we decided we had to go for perhaps one of the biggest classics of French pastry: Crème brulée. It was crunchy, sweet and soft, but I still believe it is not the best one I have had so far. The ones I tried in Paris were slightly better, but strangely enough the best ones I have eaten have been in Chile, in an Italian food restaurant. I do not discard I may be biased in this matter and that my opinion is influenced by eating habits acquired in a country where this dish is not a frequent treat.

Dinner was excellent. We had lots of fun, got to laugh and took lots of photos.

I should not upload these entries before lunch. It can ultimately lead me to feel 'empty in my bank'. Will see how I feel about my frozen meal now.

Macau and the best shrimp bisque in the world

(Note: The shrimp bisque part was edited by Angel, she gets 3/4 credit for it.)

Macau, Special Administrative Region of China. A small Las Vegas, where gaming represents 50% of the region's GDP.

Tourist low season and good travel agency deals let us stay at the Grand Lisboa hotel for one night. It's one of the newest and certainly one of the craziest buildings around the place.

I'm not sure if it can compete with those of Dubai, but the hotel's foyer was still luxurious.

The view was great. I wish the windows had been a bit cleaner, and that it had been not as cloudy, but you can't have everything.

*Taken from the Internet*

We didn't feel like going out for dinner. Instead, we ordered room service. Luckily for us, the prices were more or less the same as in restaurants. We called front desk to place our order and half an hour later, the waiter brought us a "Macanese" stew, some dumplings and a shrimp bisque.

Or perhaps I should say, THE shrimp bisque.

God, what a bisque. Served steaming hot inside a crusty roll of bread, it was a sensory explosion that almost made us cry. Angel was the first to try it. She dipped her spoon in, took a sip, closed her eyes... and just sat there. Unspeaking, unmoving. I never asked what magical places she visited while riding out that wave of pleasure, but when she finally opened her eyes, she looked at me and - in a dead serious tone - ordered, "Try it."

Now, in my short years of life, I have tasted dozens of shrimp bisques. I have sampled both flavoursome and tasteless ones; I have tried them hot as well as cold; I have done so in both dry and humid weather; I have seen varieties with shrimps and without shrimps, with vegetables and without vegetables, with accompaniments and alone. But as my lips closed and the elixir-like liquid started its ritual parade over my tongue, the world fell silent. Everything faded away.

Gradually, in the darkness, I heard a murmur coming from afar, gaining ground and getting closer and closer with ever-increasing speed. A troop of shrimps - tens of millions of them - surrounded me, lifting me from the table and hurling me across the seven seas: the flavourful stillness of the Mediterranean, the lively fauna of the Red Sea, the exotic waters of Africa and India, the spectacular coral reefs of the Persian Gulf and the wild, stormy temper of the Sea of China. I felt each of those countless shrimps smiling at me, singing and dancing, as they guided me back to where I was seated, right next to Angel in a hotel room in Macau.

Did I mention the hotel was magnificent? It had several sculptures in jade, wood, ceramic and stone, out of which two caught my attention. I'm not sure whether it was alabaster or some sort of clay; there was a protective glass between me and the oeuvre, but the level of detail was ridiculous. The whole thing must have had one per one and a half metres in total, and it was all finely carved with detailed elements of the Chinese culture.

And this other one left me breathless too. A wooden log a couple metres long, with carved images of the famous Chinese literature classic "Journey to the West".

Apparently the piece of wood had pretty much all the characters of the story. Maybe next time I go I'll be able to tell who is who.

I wonder if the artist did this during his free time. I don't even want to imagine the amount of hours this must have taken. Or the price paid for it.

The lobby of the hotel.

Macau used to be a Portuguese colony, but I didn't get to hear anybody speaking Portuguese. Maybe next time.

Cheung Chau

Cheung Chau, or 'Long Island' (iced tea, hee). A small strip of land 40 minutes away from Hong Kong by ferry boat. Around 23,000 inhabitants dwell within the 2.45 square kilometres the island has to offer, living of fishing and tourism.

Before starting our hike, we stopped to play for a while with a typical Chinese product: latex bubbles (or some other weird chemical substance). At some point in my childhood I'd had it in my hands, but it had been 15 years since the last time.

Not sure how long we were at it. Both the islanders and tourists gave us curious stares whenever they walked passed.

The cool thing about these bubbles is that they don't disappear once they burst. They just lose air, the same way a balloon does when you pierce it.

I like to think these chickens were hanging in the back yard of a restaurant, waiting to be served. It would be a bit disturbing to think they were purely ornamental.

We rented a tricicle and biked around the island. We secured it to a pole and started walking uphill until we got to a lookout spot. You could even make out Hong Kong island in the horizon.

Whereas it was the middle of winter, twenty-five degrees Celcius and ninety-five percent of humidity made quite a hot experience out of this hike. I don't even want to imagine how it must be to go there in summer.

Small boat playing pirate. :P

This is pretty much the reason I'll go back to Cheung Chau. Not sure I'll be able to find the right words to describe how good these clams were, but I was close to depressed when they ran out. Come back, oh joyful flavour!

Manthis shrimps being... all manthis-y.

We got to the island around noon and stayed until five. It was a short trip, but a complete success. For what I saw, the pier in Hong Kong island is full of ferry boats going to a bunch full of little islands for very low prices. I'll see if I can visit them all at some point.

Trip to The Peak

Victoria Peak is the highest point in Hong Kong island. With its more than 500 metres, it provides with spectacular day and night vistas of the whole city. At least that's what tourist guides say.

For better or worse, we went on a foggy day. The city below us became nothing but a fairy tale among so many clouds, so we had to settle for wonderful views of the buildings around us instead. Temperature was on our side though; a pleasant 16 degrees Celcius.

We decided to go for a walk. Angel used to stroll along these streets some years ago, so she was the appointed guide. As (almost) always, my duties were those of photographer and sherpa (a somewhat more dignifying of a title than the one of 'cargo mule').

The Peak can be reached by car as well as by foot; the trail we walked lead all the way downtown. Since we wanted to have dinner at The Peak, we didn't go too far. We took photos more than anything else.

After taking a few myself, Angel took hold of the camera. Dim lights and circulating mist provided with lots of nice photo opportunities. We got to try my new low-light lens with great results.

Angel was fascinated with this new toy. Both the camera and the lens were only a few weeks old. Unfortunately for her, they were too heavy and she had to let go after a while of taking photos.

Advertisement for Valentine's Day.

Once we got back, we headed to the restaurant: Pearl on The Peak. The situation went more or less like this:

Waitress: Good evening, may I help you?

Angel: A table for two, please.

W: Certainly. Under who's name is the reservation?

A: Reservation? Oh, we don't have one.

W: I'm very sorry, we cannot get you a table if you don't have a reservation.

B: Don't worry, we'll take care of things.

(A and B leave the place. B calls from his mobile and makes a reservation. Half an hour later A and B are already sitting down in The Pearl, having their order taken.)

Itadakimasu! After two awesome-flavoured lobster and mushroom bisques, the mains arrived. A lobster linguini that was beautifully presented (and the pasta was excellent)...

... and a mouthgasmic mushroom and truffles risotto. "That's what risotto's supposed to taste like", Angel exclaimed, half startled. The dish was so good it was almost poetic.

There were also candles. But we weren't that hungry.

A bit tired after the filling intensity of the mains, we debated over whether we should have dessert or not. The promises of a fire display while the dessert was being made in front of us convinced us to order the crêpes Suzette. Good call, Angel. The costumers of the table next to us were mesmerised by the show. It helped the fact that they were quite drunk.

Once we were done feasting on our divine French fountain of happyness, we went back home and prepared for the trip next day: Cheung Chau island.

Beat that, mescaline.

My electric boiler is awesomely psychodelic. When you turn it on, the light goes red. Drinking tea at night is lots of fun.

Scheming

Whew! Long time since the last entry. In between, my dear friend Angel came to Hong Kong, took me to lots of places, made me eat (awesomely) good food, and returned to Australia. I do have a truckload of photos to upload and anecdotes to tell, but I realised that I don't want this blog to be enslaved to the other (the one in Spanish). So I've decided to make parallel entries occasionally, but most of the time write different stuff on each one. Yay for autonomous governance!

返屋

The one day I take the camera to film the way back home almost no people were on the streets. It had been such a crowded week... Anyway, I had the part of a song stuck in my head so it was a good excuse to clean the dust off my synth and try to record it. Not the best I've produced (had some trouble with the new pedal), but it was getting late and I wanted to upload the video soon. I'll record it again some day.

By the way, if 'anyone' knows the name of the song, could you tell me? :P Sí? Sí?

Imagine all the people

Hong Kong Island has around 1,289,001 inhabitants (I'm the last '1'). Since it only has 80 square kilometres, population density is over 16,000 people/km^2. If we include Kowloon as well (the most populated are in continental Hong Kong), total surface would add up to 88km^2, and population would total around 3 million. Which means the population density would be over 35,000 people per square kilmetre!

Australia averages 2.6 people/km^2 (as a whole country). New York, as the most densely populated city in the U.S. has over 10 thousand people per square kilometre. It looks like there is no consensus about the most populated city in the world, but the ones fighting for first place are Dhaka, in Bangladesh, Lagos, in Nigeria, Mumbai, in India and Hong Kong, in... here.

According to some geography-oriented websites, 90% of the world's population use only 10% of the land, and 90% of the earth's inhabitants live above the equator. I feel like I abandoned my family to be a minority.

About dried food...

It seems that people here like all sorts of dried food. Not sure if they eat it like that or buy it that way so it's easier to store and cook afterwards. Back home we do eat dried food, but we don't have that much variety.

In Chile we eat dried and salted horse meat. We call it 'charqui'. (And it's awesome.)

Not even seafood escapes the dryness. They even sold abalones! I suspect they import them from Japan (at least that's the impression I have after having started to watch "Heart of Greed")

And also all sorts of sea cucumbers...

...that are also kept in glass containers.

I have no idea what this is. I guess at some point I'll end up eating it, same thing with the rest of the food in the photos. :P