This time, our trip on the Jetstar flight is slightly different. (I swear, this is the absolute last trip i'm traveling on budget air, the 6hr trip to Taipei the last time nearly killed me, and this time the flight was just as uncomfortable and bumpy.) Just as we were settling down into our seats right in front of the toilet, Catechol suddenly mentioned that one of the air stewards look like some guy on the second season of Superstar. And even though i didn't see the guy's face, the words 'jetstar air steward' and 'superstar' just triggered something in my hippocampus and I said, “hmmm i think i vaguely remember that one of the contestants work in jetstar”. (Actually, the words 'air steward' also reminded me of a certain pathology past year question and the implications that came along with it, so i opened my mouth to tell Catechol abt it, but decided that maybe on an aeroplane might not be the wisest place to relate that little anecdote). I stared at the guy in question but somehow his face just doesn't seem familiar enuf to confirm our guess. So we tried to peek at his name tag. After a whole two minutes of peripheral vision, Catechol said, “wah the name tag really very small hor”. So i had to resort to purple-ly putting my bag on my lap, so that he will come talk to us, and while i smiled charmingly at him, Catechol did the deed and when he walked away, he whispered the name to me. “Ya!!!!!!! That's it! Confirm is him!” I shouted rather loudly. The guy had a rather unique name that somehow made us suddenly remember everything abt him. Catechol even started singing the songs that he sang during the competition. We also made alot of not-famous-artistes jokes, and i was quite tempted to take a photo with him cos i felt rather sorry for him and also because i thought, just in case if i didn't manage to take a photo with Mickey Mouse, at least i'll have a consolation prize in him. What stopped me was the realization that even if i were to put up his photo on my blog, none of you will recognize him but will instead laugh at me for watching shows like Superstar2. Anyway, we both thought he thought we recognized him, because when Catechol was unabashedly eating his 2 piece chicken meal, he came over and in a familiar manner (as though they are long lost brothers) put his hand on Catechol's shoulder and whispered into his ear that “outside food is not allowed, but for you, i'll allow you to finish your food.” I don't know whether i should die from embarrassment or die laughing.
After a terminably long flight, we finally alighted at the Hong Kong Airport, and because we were taking budget air, we had to alight via the rickety flight of stairs and take the airport bus to the main building, so lousy loh.. the only other time i've done this was when we flew on Air France (enuf said). The airport bus is rather cute though, it looks like a flattened MRT.
The last time i went to hk was 10years ago, so i was quite sad to see that the airport has been renovated, and gone are those overlapping white boards that serve as the exit and the ubiquitous yellow signs we see in every hk movie. We then went to get our Octopus (ezlink) cards and that was when I realised that if even the airport personnel speaks Cantonese instead of English, we might be in more trouble than we think (i can't help but draw a parallel to the time when we were at the airport in Taiwan buying bus tickets to our hotel, and the only miscommunication that we faced was that i referred to our hotel as 'jiu3 dian4' and the counter lady hastily and indignantly cried out, “ shi fan4 dian4!”)
Anyway, we then headed off to the bus terminal to take a bus down to Kowloon. Our accomodation that night was at Lee Garden Guesthouse, a cheap, homely alternative to a hotel for budget travellers, which i guess is an euphemism for 'lousy room for cheapskates'. Armed with a map and a internet printout of directions to the place, we set off to meet Mr Charlie, owner of the guesthouses who according to some travel guides, is a 'friendly chap who makes the effort to spend 10 minutes chatting with his guests to make them feel at home.'
Anyway, we still got lost, despite the directions. Maybe because the tiny sign for the guesthouse wasn't even lighted up. And even though i have mentally prepared myself and Catechol to have no expectations whatsoever, we still had a shock when we realised that we had to go through this narrow walkway into a dimly lit corridor and take a terribly ancient lift that can only fit 3 people comfortably and when it reaches your floor, you have to push open the door yourself or it will just continue on its way. We hurriedly jumped out of the lift and stared blankly at the scene before us.
An old uncle was locking his door right in front of us in the narrow corridor, there were only 3 other doors and all were white and unlabelled. Everything was white in colour. The uncle, without looking at us, continued to lock his door, but said in Cantonese, “No more. Go away.” I went 'huh?!” and he repeated again in broken English. It slowly dawned on me that this uncle must be somehow connected to the guesthouse and that we're not in some freaky sci-fi movie. I showed him my email of correspondence with Mr Charlie and insisted that i had made a reservation. He very blur-ly tried to read my letter but mistook the date when i SENT the email as the date of reservation(-_-''). Anyway, after a brief hassle, he told us to follow him and we went into what i can only assume is the guesthouse. The walkway is only wide enough for 1 person to walk through and there are just many doors side by side with numbers on them. Some young punk was sitting beside a telephone, which was just on a small table in the corridor itself, and on the wall above the phone were just scraps of paper with names and dates written on them. On peering closer, i spied my name and that day's date on one of the pieces. This must be the 'reception'. The young punk was talking to a Philipino maid who was folding towels. I guess they are the staff, the uncle started talking to them if there are any rooms available, and the maid mentioned something about alot of insects in the remaining only empty room. I must have looked like i'm ready to get the hell out of the place because the uncle hurriedly made some calls and then told us, “follow me”. And he led us out to the lift again, talking about how they're fully booked and telling us who's staying with them now, and who's coming in tmrw. He then suddenly halted to a stop in the middle of a busy street and just continued talking non-stop, after about 10minutes, an old auntie appeared and the uncle kept thanking her profusely and handed us over to her. [i think it was here that i realised the uncle is the 'friendly' Mr Charlie] And we continued walking for some time until she suddenly popped into this old building and got handed over to another auntie and finally arrived at our 'guesthouse'. (machiam like some secret location liddat)
All i can say about our accomodation is that i've never seen anything like it before. It's like we're bunking over at someone's house. You see:
Just as we were leaving the place (i can't bring myself to call it hotel), a China couple emerged from the room next to us, we were so close together and because of the homely environment of the main room, it kinda feels like we're related to each other. So we were obliged to chat with them till we reach the main road. We then had an embarrassing dinner where i felt the full onslaught of my expressive aphasia.
[Haha actually i have alot more to blog abt one, but i feel embarrassed that i just blogged a 1500 word entry, so i'm uploading it first]
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