This tale starts last Saturday. There I was in Manchester airport, suitcase checked in, guide book in hand. I was so giddy, I’d almost forgotten about the 12 hour journey I had ahead of me. I’d been invited over to Hong Kong for Fashion Week, and although I had four days of work, I also had two days of free time to be able to go explore, take photographs and see all the amazing things people had recommended to me. I was travelling completely on my own, and when I mean completely, I didn’t know a single person in the whole of Hong Kong. But that was cool. Independent woman and all that.
After travelling for almost a full day, I arrived at my hotel, gave my gnashers a brush, popped on my trainers and went off to take a look at the streets that surrounded me. The air was pungent. The heat took your breath away. H&M Home called, as did Kate Spade and Starbucks. I was really trying to immerse myself within the local traditional culture.
I’d started to feel a little unwell by midday, but putting it down to the heat and how little sleep I’d had, I headed back to the hotel for a quick nap before crossing from the island onto the mainland to visit the night markets. I wanted to get some brilliant photographs, and possibly a real, genuine, not fake at all, handbag.
The reality? That nap turned into four long ass days within the same four walls of my hotel room, with probably the worst sickness bug I’ve ever had. I’m not a drama queen, and it takes a lot for me stay in bed, but trust me when I say whatever it was that I’d caught absolutely knocked me for six.
By Tuesday, I was trying to get an early flight back to the UK, whilst realising I was probably still too sick to travel. I felt so far away from home – 6,000 miles to be exact – and all I wanted was a hug from my mum. I don’t think you ever get too old to want mum-sympathy when you’re not feeling too good. Let me tell you, watching re-runs of Friends all day and all night when I couldn’t sleep was like a giant hug. So there I was, laying in a hotel room feeling incredibly sorry for myself, looking out at Hong Kong through my 21st floor window. It also didn’t help that the TV kept flashing warnings of a typhoon heading straight towards Hong Kong island. Are you freaking kidding me right now?
I was travelling home Thursday and by Wednesday evening I’d started to feel a bit brighter, despite not having anything pass my mouth other than bottled water for four days. I managed to visit the exhibition I’d travelled across the world to see for a whole two hours and then I got a taxi back to the hotel. The heat and the smells of the city were too much. Plus, in those four days I’d managed to turn myself into a complete germaphobe, telling myself bacteria was covering pretty much every surface I touched. Thank the lord of hand sanitizer.
So that was that. My trip to Hong Kong which I’d been looking forward to since March. I’d managed to get a few snaps in the first three hours of being there, so I thought I might as well share them with you guys. Don’t expect anything magical though. I can honestly say my big adventure was more big flop. But I’m not about the negative life. so let’s rejoice in the fact that I’m now 9lbs lighter than last Sunday. Every cloud people, every cloud.