TrekFeet

The International Shenanigans of Two Fools on the Run, Part One: The Hong Kong, Macau and Kota Kinabaul Chronicles October 9, 2007

Soon I will regale you with stories - adventure yarns of painful journeys up jungle mountains and glorious summits in the coldest hours of dawn.

But for today, I’m going to level with you.

I’m sick as a dog from some unknown but surely delicious meal and either the mountain descent left us mostly paralyzed or Kraabel has begun to beat me in my sleep. All I know is that every muscle in my body hates me and I shrieked in pain stepping off a curb on our ill-advised walk this morning in search of breakfast and traditional medicine.

I couldn’t be happier!

But before I retire (aka roll back over into the fetal position), a quick recap of the trip so far:

A 15 hour flight deposited us in Hong Kong - a city I fell in love with at first sight last spring. Coming back to her this fall was a warm reunion: The enchanting skyline, the gentle pitch of the romantic Star Ferry, the silent, slow motion Tai Chi each morning in Victoria Park and most importantly, heapings of hot salty fried calamari.

In the less-than-24 hours we had in town, we covered an impressive number of sights, walked for hours upon hours and then caught the ferry for Macau.

Macau feels like exactly what it is - the half charming, half tawdry love child of Portugal and Asia rising from the South China Sea. Colonialized and developed by the Portugese and eventually handed back to China when such aggressive nation building fell out of fashion, the island is now a hodge podge of European cathedrals and cobble stone alleys and South Asian noodle joints, curio shops and of course, casinoes. Gambling is legal in Macau and from what we saw it is also BIG business. The Wynn hotel and casino stood glimmering at sea’s edge and behind it a line of “less tasteful” local casinos sashayed and shimmied and fanned out across town. For my taste, a half day was enough time to admire the strange concoction, enjoy a great meal and get on to our next destination.

The next couple of days were spent adjusting to Borneo - a welcomed, warm and far less developed change of pace. We explored Sunday street markets where secular and Christian Malaysians and hundreds of veiled Muslims bought and sold goods to one another in surprisingly respectful harmony. We toured history museums bringing us from tribal heritage to the long line of British Rajs to Borneo’s latter day division between Indonesia, Malaysia and Brunei. We ate, we walked, we snapped a million photographs and just enjoyed the peacefully exotic.

As Kraabel pointed out after we landed in Kota Kinabalu that first evening at midnight (still sans hotel room), we’d made it through three countries in less than 24 hours. Heading out to an all-night curry joint, jet lagged and oblivious to sleep patterns, I could only grin in response.

This is the dream.