Hong Kong is food heaven, but since my beloved Michelin-starred char siu bao are over 9000 km away right now, I’m going to make myself feel better by convincing myself that Hong Kong totally sucks balls. Because…
You can’t breathe in Hong Kong
The first time I stepped out of the airport my first thoughts were not ‘wow, Hong Kong is so beautiful! I can’t wait to explore this amazing metropolis and experience new things!’
It was ‘WHERE IS THE OXYGEN? AM I BREATHING SYRUP? ARE HONG KONGERS SECRETLY FISH-PEOPLE WITH GILLS HIDDEN UNDER THEIR CLOTHES?!’
They are not.
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Hong Kong is stinky
According to my calculations, Hong Kong produces 103,407,388 human farts per day on average. But in a surprising turn of events, that’s not the problem. Anyone who’s spent time in Hong Kong will know the real smells. Pungent durian – which, to be fair, I don’t mind. The unholy mixed smell of raw fish and pork in the wet markets, slowly festering in the summer heat. The smell of boiling tripe from entirely too many local restaurants. The putrid aroma from the garbage stations that hits you in the face when you walk by.
But even in the summer no one smells like sweat though, which is an amazing feat.
I am an illiterate retard
Fine, this is not so much Hong Kong’s problem as it is mine, but it is so awkward. My Cantonese is good enough that it sounds like I might speak it perfectly fluently, until the waiter inevitably finds out that I am in fact an illiterate fool who did not understand what he just asked or what those scribbles are on the menu.
I have shown Google images of what I want to eat and confidently replied ‘yes, exactly that!’ to the waiter asking ‘oh you want a stir-fried ching chong chang?’ because shame is for the weak.
Man I really want a deep-fried ice cream bao right now. 9000 km is not that far, right?