The church bells call their audience to mass at 5am. I’m already awake. My alarm is set for 5.30am, but I’m already dressed by then. I visit the night auditor, I have a favour to ask of him. Contrary to the gentleman I spoke with last night, this boy has never seen a postcard before, and does not know what a stamp is. He says his colleague will be in at 6am. Guess what? I’m back down at 6.05am, Joe is awake and the girls are getting dressed. This front desk agent also shakes her head and no, they are not able to help with mailing a postcard. I ask them how much it costs to send a postcard to Europe, they tell me 340.000VND. Internet tells me a tenth of the cost. They say I must have spoken to the manager last night, he’ll be back at 8am. We leave at 7am. UGH!
We are upstairs in the restaurant for a quick breakfast right at opening time, 6.30am. By 7am, we are in the lobby, along with all of our belongings. The housekeeper who checks our minibar calls down to say we’ve forgotten many things. Unfortunately, we had to leave some items behind due to the baggage restrictions, and we tell her that they are not forgotten, we cannot bring them with us.
We get to the airport at 7.30am, and have to check in at the counter. We’ve already checked in online, but we have to go show our passports and weigh our bags before they’ll issue our boarding passes. Our hearts are in our throats as we expect a large fine. One suitcase is 23.5 kilo, and they reportedly charge per kilo it’s over the 20 kilo limit. I think they do this just because every sensible airline in the world has a 23 kilo limit, so they just figure they’ll lower the limit and charge for any overage?
Our airline clerk sends our suitcases off without a word. She tags all four backpacks and our two purchased cabin bags, and no word is spoken about kilos or limits or “hang on, I can tell your bags are heavier than a feather”. We can almost exhale, only passport checks (you have to get your passport stamped upon exit) and security left before we can relax by the gate. All goes smoothly, and we can park Joe and our bags by the gate, and go spend the remaining Vietnamese Dong.
Every store prices their goods in US dollars. When I ask how much things cost in Dong, they give me annoyed looks and bring our their calculators. Maylin and Téa both get keychains of their favourite Vietnamese dishes, and we are able to spend every last Dong we have in cash. Then, at the café, I find this poster which explains it all:
Finally, our plane arrives at the gate, the previous passengers disembark, their bags offloaded, and we watch our suitcases get rolled up onto the airplane. We line up, and before we know it, we’re seated and ready for take-off.
It was a fairly short flight, 1 hour and 55 minutes from Da Nang to Hong Kong. No in-flight entertainment, just attempting to nap, to no avail. We land just after 1pm, and with immigration and luggage, we’re hugging Joe’s cousin Sam hello in the arrivals hall. Sam has arranged for a large taxi that can accommodate us all and our luggage, and we speed (!) off towards Joe’s grandma’s place. I do not remember Hong Kong drivers being this reckless! Maybe also because we don’t usually spend a whole lot of time in cars when we are here? It’s the taxi too and from the airport, but the rest is usually all public transport.
At the apartment, Sam’s mom (Joe’s aunt) is waiting for us, and it’s so good to see her again. She hasn’t changed at all since we saw her last, back in November of 2016. She’s there to make sure we have everything we need, and as soon as we’ve dumped our bags, they whisk us off to the nearby shopping centre for a bite to eat. We are absolutely starving, so eagerly follow. We head into a Hong Kong café, and before we even realize it, they’ve ordered and received two hot and fresh egg tarts, one for each of the girls.
As with most Hong Kong eateries, there’s no such thing as a glass of water. Hot tea is plonked on the table for each diner, no questions asked. The girls wait for what seems like foreeeeeever for the tea to cool down, there is no such thing as a bottle of water available to order. We order some food, and catch up with family. It’s so good to be back! By the way, I have no common language with Joe’s aunts and uncles, only one of the 5 we’re likely to see while here speaks English. It’s amazing how much body language, facial expressions, pouring each other tea and repeating a few simple words can express!
After our snack and grabbing a few necessities (like replacing the shampoo, conditioner, body lotion and toothpaste we left behind in Da Nang), we head back to the apartment to settle in a little bit. Sam’s mom leaves, now that she knows we’re settling in nicely, and we look forward to seeing her again in the next few days.
We unpack the necessities, the toiletries and anything else we need to prepare to settle in for our first night in this new-to-us place. Well, Joe and I have been here several times, and we have so many good memories here, but to the girls, this is all new and strange and difficult to get used to. So we unpack just the most urgent stuff, then head back out with Sam to fix other necessities, like an MTR pass and regain our bearings.
We are supposed to head down to the MTR station and sort out our passes, but hunger takes over. Sam brings us into the impressive Temple Mall (either a 5 minute bus ride or a 20 minute walk down the hill). There’s a north and a south part of this mall, connected across a busy highway with a walk bridge. We live on the north side of the road, this is the part of the mall Joe and I have visited many times before.
Right inside the door, there’s a restaurant called Shanghai Popo. Sam asks if we want soup dumplings, and of course we do! The girls and I head off to find a washroom, and by the time we get back, Sam and Joe have ordered an actual feast. We sit down, and the dishes start arriving.
When we have just about licked every plate, we roll out of the restaurant and get to the business portion of the evening. I have an old MTR card in my collection, and we get the refund for that, as they last for 10 years from the most recent top up, and we’re still within that time limit. I also download the app on my phone so I can tap that in and out of public transportation. Joe and the girls each get a card, and the girls are so proud to have transit cards in their lanyards again, like they did in Japan.
Once that is done, Sam says the magical word “dessert”. Maylin is so tired she’s essentially sleep walking at this point, but she perks right back up instantly! We walk this way and that, and soon find ourself at a small dessert shops with amazing fruit desserts. Joe and Maylin split a mango creation of shaved ice cream, tapioca balls and jelly squares. Sam has a similar version in coconut.
We part ways with Sam after dessert, profoundly thank him for such a warm welcome, and make arrangements to meet him tomorrow at 12pm. We head to the minibus station to head back up the hill, and cling on for dear life on the ride. Even up here, the bus rides are almost like rollercoasters! By the time we get back up into the apartment, we are exhausted. We barely have time to brush teeth before we all collapse into bed…