Hong Kong's humidity sticks to my thighs

All sweaty in our glory, we dodged to and from the slight shade provided by city trees while Hong Kong in its humid stealth threatened to suck the energy out of our drenched bodies. After 2 days flirting with the outskirts of a massive concrete jungle, I braved its innards. Luckily a Monday trip to the boulders beyond the high rise structures offered a break from the cancerous carbon monoxide thickness. The intervening monsoons hovered in the distant sky, but our gung-ho passion led us to explore regardless. A short walk from the Tai Koo MTR station, we were transported into the adjoining jungle; a mossy river way, our path. Thanks to June, we were able to have two crash pads, thus saving our delicate bottoms from haphazard landings to follow. The river was a welcome refreshment as the blazing afternoon sun scorched our shoulders pink. (I do however, use sunscreen – thus was saved from pinkdom). The rippling river also served as a free shower and with a scant line-up, locals indulged, fully clothed under the waterfall just beyond our first boulder of choice. Scents of shampoo drifted by as we attempted to man/woman-up with the rock problems in front of our faces. After some successes and near misses, heel hooks and crimps, pockets and lock-offs, V3’s and happy knees, we descended back into the thick sweltering city.

Along the side streets, a ripe, succulent fruit caught my eye, the biggest I have ever seen. This mango was the size of a football – the American style football or perhaps my calf muscle. Its mere scent coerced my mouth to water like a broken sprinkler. Not to mention its slippery syrup consumed in an inhale. (It actually took two days to eat due to its sheer size). Mmm. On to the food. In a smorgasbord of western and other worldly influence, I was bombarded with a plethora of choice. International supermarkets around each corner tickled my nostalgia as I piled the basket high.
<< Side note. If you haven’t noticed already, I tend to exaggerate. This gets me into trouble with my critical wordsmith friends. Justification: It is more fun to exaggerate and keeps my childlike imagination alive. >>

So, to clarify, I casually gathered just a few things for the airplane carry on; Red Thai Curry and Marmite to name a few. Through my many other efforts to save the world, the slight guilty conscience of the import-export game is defended in this example. Considering this multicultural hotpot, I was spoiled by Buddhist veggie stands and ethnic delights including this one particular Organic café with delectable quinoa salads and roasted eggplant tapenades. It inspired my cooking and sharing skills.

Tubing Madness Taking Chances and Drinking wine in the rain.

Oh how wonderful feelings bubble up from your insides when you and a crew of foreign troublemakers set forth to test the high seas with blackened tire tubes blown up so big, nearly bursting at the seams (good thing we noticed one seam splitter before we submerged it!)

A few weekends ago, my good buddy, Qasim had the grand idea to take advantage of the rainy season and float down the river near my old town, Jucheon. This South Korean nature haven has inspired many a bushwhack during my year and a half stint. Now living in the bustling city, the calm serenity of the country is a welcomed change of pace. Despite the downpour, we raged against the intermittent rapids and indulged in weir sliding – as in the weir totally sucked a few of us in and left us bleeding from several limbs. Hannah seeing me in near turmoil quickly came to my aide but got sucked in herself as I was left clinging to the threshold. My mighty forearms were my saving grace (umm, admittedly cheating as the fact was that I could reach Justin’s hand for help before I was swallowed).

Once a chill set into our bones, I thought of a quick warm-up activity; boulder some of the surrounding bridges. That is exactly what we did – repeatedly. As the night approached, we retreated into the spicy kitchen of my old apartment where Michelle now lives. She also has my old job. With a smorgasbord of ingredients, we took to the bar-be-que and I prepared veggie burgers that fell apart and Terra smoked up some roasted eggplant and zucchini while the others cooked their meat. Plenty bottles of red wine later we moved to Qasim’s old penthouse where the dance party ensued complete with break dancing and Michael Jackson Beat It choreography! We saved the fireworks for last. Sauntering slovenly back to the beach, I “fell asleep” and missed the explosions in the sky. Upon waking, I could barely get my head together and with a grunt, Justin had to carry me home. What are friends for? This was until a burst of energy seized me and I took off running down the road like a black cat in the night. Quite the paradoxical performance.