A Dope Suited Up

Hong Kong’s warm.  I’m in a room up above Kowloon Park.  If I look down to the left I can see the minaret of the park’s enormous mosque. But unlike my recent night in Jakarta I could not hear any of the call-to-prayer this morning at four-forty-five.  I wonder whether or not it rang out loudly.  People moving up and down Nathan Road are all in tee shirts.  The elm and banyan trees haven’t heard anything about the word ‘autumn.’ They wax out green and flush.

Last night I got in late. My card worked fine when I bought a ticket for the airport express.  At Kowloon Station I needed cash for a cab. 7 Eleven’s all have ATMs that work with foreign cards in Tokyo.  As suspected that data point is irrelevant in Hong Kong. The 7 Eleven guy told me the nearest ATM is up in the mall.  I headed up one escalator and then another.  I walked and walked and consulted a map of the Elements Mall.  My card doesn’t work at the first nor the second ATM.  They must have frozen my card as I’m in another “country.”  I call the bank and are put on hold for twenty five minutes after which I learn that there is nothing wrong with my card.  I’ve already decided to just hop the cab and pay the guy in RMB.  It’s been worth more than HKD for many years now.  I reckoned he wouldn’t complain. 

An overnight trip I’m down for just this evening.  I headed here with just one backpack.  This made good sense in Beijing.  All my things in I slung it on my shoulder and headed off for the cab.  It’s freezing in this room and I kill the air-conditioning rather than try to adjust it.  Considering my departure from the room I imagine walking around with my coat on for a second.  I check the pedestrian traffic below once again.  I’d look like a dope suited up in this thing.  I’ll need to carry it under my arm. 

Does traffic travel both directions on Nathan Road?  I can’t recall and look again.  Yes, indeed.  Good.  I’m heading to a place straight up the Governor Sir Mathew Nathan’s boulevard a few MTR stops to the Mong Kok at Shan Tung Road.  That is easy to remember.   I consider the MTR but the TST station is just far enough away to make me consider again my bag and my coat and the supposed humidity.  I’ll opt for a cab.  I still need to sort out some local cash.  Double check the closet and the bed.  I can’t tell which way I made it in here last night and venture a turn to the left as the door closes behind me.