Frivolities v. 345

Okay, birth month. In a couple of days I’ll be a 25-year-old who lives in her parents’ house and avoids heavy EDSA traffic like the plague and contemplates on studying again and finding a better place in the world. The requisite birthday drama postponed to next month — senti at the Marina Bay Sands viewing deck sounds, hmm, more glamorous. “I’m 25 and yet…” mini-speeches reserved for J, D, B, and first-time travel companions. Mental notes:

April-June roundup

Life updates, among which are painfully late ones.

Davao-bound

There’s a shit-ton of things to be done, but I figure I have to write this down before I fly to Davao this Tuesday. Travel preparations still rattle me — the tendency to overpack, the long list of things to be bought, and the nagging truth that my security blanket, i.e. J, won’t be joining the trip. But I think I’m getting better at it; I chose clothes for four days will little difficulty, folding them its neat little squares, imagining the new faces and landscapes that will greet me positively or otherwise. Darn it, Davao is one of my dream destinations.

Holy Week Break, In Bullets

My nephew C, forever in the running for the Cutest Little Devil Award

• At home since Maundy Thursday and promised to read. Finished John Irving’s A Prayer for Owen Meany and Paula Fox’s Desperate Characters, plus revived a little book blogging project.
• Segue: I was a Krip Yuson reader back in college, but plagiarism is plain inexcusable. But much more deplorable than the act itself is the take of some (pray tell, they never claim to be readers, writers, and/or keen observers of Philippine letters) on the matter: Even legends can make mistakes!*

Unfold

In between munching on formaldehyde-laced fries and moments of servility here in the office, I’m reminded of the right things to do, with at least seven unanswered chat messages in violent agreement: it’s something important to do.

HK Day 5: Central and HKIA

Back to Mickey's arms someday, shall we?

We proudly made the most out of our last day, with D banging happily on our door at 8-ish in the morning. “J2′s friend wants to show us around,” she said. We had a good four hours before the agreed pick-up time for the airport, so we ditched plans of returning to Argyle Street (the famous Mong Kok) and instead ventured to Central during “crunch time.”

HK Day 4: Ocean Park

Defying budget constraints and all, we booked for an Ocean Park tour at the last minute for 330 dollars each. But I suggest you just go directly to the amusement park — a day pass is available at 250 dollars, which means our 80 dollars went to the tour arrangements. Unadventurous, I know, but exhaustion had started setting in, so we preferred the tour bus to commuting through the traffic-stricken city on a Monday.

Day 3: Macau

Marry a Macanese someday, won't you?

If you don’t like paying taxes, move to Macau.* Gambling has practically taken care of everything, and Stanley Ho or any of his four wives and 17 children build casinos like there’s no tomorrow. Our tour guide was all too candid about it: “Casinos aren’t allowed in HK or China, otherwise no one will come here.” But from the limited view that our tour bus and stops afforded us, I can see that there’s more to Macau than gambling and Stanley Ho’s government-granted monopoly.

HK Day 2: Kowloon and Disneyland

Go home without an underwear, but never without a Bruce Lee shirt!

Waking up at 7 a.m. didn’t sound like a vacation to us, but we were comforted by breakfast at the Dorsett Cafe. We helped ourselves to a buffet of rice, dumplings, and other breakfast staples like ham and sausages, bread and pastries, and an array of cereals — what we practically had in the next three mornings.

We were picked up at 8 a.m. by Jo, our tour guide for the day. Jo was the typical HK local with her cute fall/winter outfit (it was March, but the weather wasn’t indicative of spring yet), and she was generous with her travel stories. She’s been to Cebu, Japan (where she claimed to devoting her gut to noodles), Europe, and other places, and she urged us to buy things for ourselves — not just pasalubong. “Be kind to yourselves,” flailing her mid-length, curly hair, “because no one else will.”

HK Day 1: Stranded, and Ironing Out the Kinks

Would have loved to take the 20-minute train to downtown

With its efficiency staring you in the face, Hong Kong definitely makes for a good first experience. Ours was a trip far from perfect — I’m still bitter about not taking advantage of the forex rates at the local money changer, which is way better than what we settled for in Kowloon — but it was surely fun. First-day adventures as follows.