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:

• Working on the office on the 22nd, a deviation from past birthdays spent running around like an idiot at the WTC, ogling girls and brand-new cars.
• Our Aug Bora tickets are our 2nd set of unused tickets this year. What invisible hand forces us to book flights even if our sked and ATM balance are vehemently against it?
• Three-day training at some hotel (People Handling Skills, which has a sinister spin to it) before flying to SG in Sept. Also seriously contemplating on getting a Galaxy Tab for the e-books furnished by the boss. Gadgets: the more potentially useful they are, the sexier they become. I hope we get intimate soon.
• Serious Book Space Issues Indicator #72: a tall pile on my office desk. Sell? Give some away? Arrange them into a bed? Stop buying books for at least a month? Managed to finish (ed) Toni Morrison’s Burn This Book and Chinua Achebe’s Girls At War And Other Stories this week. My batting average’s improving.
• People get married, give birth, study abroad, or write books before they turn 25. Me? I wear metal braces for my forever-at-war teeth. It has gotten better after the mind-numbing week of soft diet, but I’m not sure what kissing is like now.
• In case the deities of birthday wishes are listening, I want a Galaxy Tab, a box of Parisian macarons, a medium, long-handle Planetes (who says we can’t get specific?), a nice moleskin, and time with J. Are 25th birthdays supposed to be celebrated, like the 1st, 7th, 18th? I remember my mother throwing me parties on my 6th (clown, magic show, swag bags) and 17th (lunch with wait staff, nth-degree relatives), which shows how impeccable her timing is.

G graduated on the day of his birthday, which was pretty cool. It was smack in the middle of April, but no parent/student/UP-CHK faculty/guest complained about the afternoon heat inside the non-airconditioned university gym because it was a special day for everyone who believes in getting a degree, hardwork, etc. Treated the kids to late lunch afterwards.

R and A got married after 14 years of dating. As I told D, “Bale mas kilala pa nila isa’t isa kesa sa mga nanay nila ‘no?” After the Catholic ceremony at the huge Sta. Clara Church at Pasig, guests were treated to a sumptuous buffet lunch, mojitos, and a lovely time at PSE.

Last May1, K and I dated E, who brought her husband Eugene to meet us for the first time. We gave the newlyweds a humble wedding gift — we didn’t make it to the ceremony because of a graduation ceremony (Kate) and the flu (me). Chops, fries, and comfort food in generous servings courtesy of Flapjacks.

The older cousins treated everyone to a late summer outing at Jed’s, a small resort in Bulacan that keeps the company of humongous Disney and Looney Toons characters, superheroes, and random elves. Kids will love it there.

Mounting company events is no mean feat. Had a blast last June at Mercolalympics, the first project of the 2011 events committee. Long meetings over coffee, donuts, and the occasional McDo fries? Check. Penning the script? Check. Oversleeping on the day of the sports fest? Check. Barely made it to the Meralco Oval on time, thanks to the alarm that I forgot recognizes only weekdays, not weekends.

A DepEd official at a local school board training

The Davao trip did push through. Flew via PAL, stayed at Grand Regal Hotel, took a “crash course” in Mindanao politics/education reform (the ARMM truly has wounds that run deep), and had a happy time at the hotel bar on the last night. It was a week before the Davao flash flood, and we had a bad preview of it through the heavy rains. Happily went home with boxes of pomelo, durian and mangosteen candies, interviews begging to be transcribed, and a fresh mind.

(If it isn’t, I probably wouldn’t choose leaving on J’s birthday.)

While composing an email containing final work notes and reminders for my co-writers while I’m away (we’re crazy-organized that way), I had the urge to virtually clip a short note for my boss, telling her to expect a better writer, person, when I come back.  But, of course, it will sound as arrogant and self-absorbed to her as to you now, given the vagueness of it all.

To me, though, the supposed message is pretty vivid — this trip is very much welcome after the long lull, the flaming discontent. It will be a nice break from things.

I have little doubt that I fall under the Stability category. I like balance, guarantee, the thought of a purr of assurance. But sometimes the days are too empty and lonely and unsatisfactory that you feel that your dreams are being hacked to death slowly — oh my God, that sounds soupy and overused — and you decide that you can leave everything in a heartbeat and seek better things.

And then you forget it once again, the office air conditioner humming softly and like a parent, not intrusive like on those other days.

So yeah, I think I need this; the mere thought of being two hours away from Makati and QC and the unnecessary annoyances of life build a strong case for this trip. And I wouldn’t say no to durian sweets, Samal Island, and fresh air either. First time in Mindanao, here we go!

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!*
• My father, who worked until he was overripe at 71, must be shaking his head in dismay (or doing its equivalent in his grave) every time I make unwise use of my time, which is often. Six feet under (yeah, standard depth) and he must still be more productive than me — praying that we stop our mindless banters at home, etc. But seriously, I miss you, Papa, and I wish I had your Math smarts and wit and work ethic. You were in a dream last night.
• Fought for 1,200 lost HSBC reward points over the phone. Hardcore, I know. Someone give me a life.
• Planning a BKK trip in December, which is practically next to impossible. Airfare and accommodations skyrocket during the Christmas season, and there’s no way a travel agent won’t give me a killer quote.
• But the family and office outings (May), the Bora ritual (Aug), and the SG trip (Sept) are a go, so there’s only the post-Christmas week left to cross out.
• One of those rare times when J and I share an opinion: this Monday is the most sadistic. Four days of OD’ing on sleep, and now back to work backlog and long hours. I need a thrill.

__

*Actual comment in an online news report

I understand that people need time, space, whatever abstract idea they can lay claim to; they have this illusion that human are created with these perimeter lines around them.

But what gets me is how arbitrarily they assert this need for space, as if an obligation.

What else to do when the options are a grand total of one? Go with it, sure.

It’s something important to do.

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.”

R, J2′s friend, was most solicitous and regretful about not having met us days before. First stop was Worldwide Plaza, where we made quick rounds in the small gadgets stores. Lunch was at Cafe de Coral, the largest Chinese fast food chain in HK. It has such such a cozy and homey feel, and most entrees are good for sharing. The place was jam-packed, though, making it difficult for us to secure six seats.

HK's double-deck tramcars are a sight to behold

With our minds giddy and stomachs  fulfilled, we made stops at Giordano for shirts, H & M, Prize Mart for chocolates at best prices, and these small street boutiques that are versions of homegrown ukay. There were tram rides for two dollars per, and the city’s rush hour was still rather subdued, purposeful, and no useless-running-around. We made awfully long walks to Wan Chai and back, although the weather was cooperative at 18 or so degrees. Sucked to have a bad cold getting worse by the hour, but nothing can spoil a mood matching a bargain heaven perfectly.

We made it back to our Kowloon hotel in time for the 3 pm pickup (the MTR was a true friend), bidding R sweet goodbyes. The bus picked up some more passengers in New Territories, which appeared sadder to me with its sober high-rise buildings and malls and expressionless workday faces.

We had two hours to explore HKIA after checking in — the “downtown prices” energetically promoted on its billboards seemed honest. There were the same Giordano, Bossini, and Disney souvenir outlets, among a jumble of Mannings (what Watsons is to us), Le Sportsac, and designer stores like Bally, Folli Follie, and Marc Jacobs. At Mannings, for instance, we found a mid-sized American Tourister luggage for only 400 dollars, translating to 50 to 70 percent off its Philippine prices.

The MAC Wonder Woman collection launch at Langham Place Mall, Kowloon (Taken during Day 1)

Final meal at HK was the much-missed Popeye’s chicken and a cup of Triple Caramel Chunk from Ben and Jerry’s. The latter was a risk, considering that the blast of airconditioning was already doing a good-enough work in making my cold worse. But I had a good couple of dollars left, so why not spend it in this proverbial retail spot?

No more racking my brain for a strong finish to this HK series: I had fun, and it was the respite I was so hungry for for the better part of the last six months.

–

“Travel is glamorous only in retrospect.” - Paul Theroux

Ocean Park was definitely one of the best parts of the trip, although the weather was relatively hostile that day. The temperature climbed to 23 degrees (tour guide Andy told us on the way back to the hotel), and the sun shone brightly on our giddy faces up in the Summit. If you went to HK for the panoramic harbor and city views, this is the best place for exploration. You can best do this through the cable car ride or the Ocean Park Tower, a rotating observation deck offering 360-degree views of South China Sea.

An Ocean Park Tower ride is the epitome of "short but sweet."

Memorable five-minute rides. Any takers?

Lazing their Monday afternoon away

Not a great sight for environmentalists, eh?

The loser moment of the day was not exploring the Waterfront (Lowland) at all — Andy suggested going directly to the Summit if we feel that we’re pressed for time. True enough, the Abyss Turbo Drop and The Dragon (HK’s largest roller coaster) exceeded our expectations, and I say this with borderline trauma. But luck wasn’t fully on our side: we missed the pandas (Giant Pandas!!!) that were waiting for us, no thanks to getting lost and going for the Ocean Park Escalator that leads to city-bound buses rather than riding the Ocean Express, which leads people back to the Waterfront.

The Abyss: Inducing silent screams for decades

Happy kids

Hot air balloon at the Sky Fair

Back in Kowloon it was time to put our game face on — last-minute rounds at the Ladies’ Street Market, Langham Place Mall, and a mix of  shopping nooks. We got lost once in a while, and there was a long walk back to the hotel (shuttle service was only until 11:30 pm).  But it was definitely the kind that we’d happily take as our last night in the city.

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.

I wasn’t too crazy about the one-hour ferry ride, because it was too much to handle when combined with long immigration lines during a day tour. We weren’t so lucky with the weather as well — 22 degrees on a touristy Sunday afternoon. But for all the limitations of our Macau visit, I enjoyed the oversized Binondo feel, the small shops offering yummy egg rolls, nougats, seaweed snacks and egg tarts, and the remnants of Portuguese rule — street names, house facades, and all.

The Fisherman's Wharf, Macau's first village theme park

Feverish for yellow

Stanley Ho's Macau Tower

A busy day in tycoon land: Galaxy Hotel under construction

We nitpicked about the buffet lunch at Pousada Marina Infante Hotel, which was bland and uninspired all the way, but  we loved the curried seafood balls and fruit shakes around the Macau Cathedral, not to mention the nice souvenirs that you can get at low prices. Haggle like your life depended on it, of course.

The Venetian offered us the luxurious face of Macau, although the signature shops and the smell of chlorine were a rather odd mix.

You no longer have to go to Venice for a gondola ride, y'know.

Shop to your spendthrift heart's content

It was so funny how we pretended to be caught in the crossfire when we chanced upon a very long firecracker display at a small temple. “Dapa! Dapa!” said B with matching exaggerated hand gesture. The street was so narrow that there was too much smoke on our faces. But afterwards it was back to the peace and quiet of a Sunday, and we had a fabulous time sampling local pastries at a small neighborhood bakery.

Small temple on a quiet part of town

Believe me: hoard those egg rolls!

Back in HK for dinner - tasty noodles and dimsum for our $30 challenge

*Interestingly, Hong Kong is also known for its low level of taxation — no VAT, sales tax, etc.Part of why HK is a shopping haven.

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.”

Our tour group was full of cute little girls in pink

Where Manny Pacquiao gets some of his diamonds, and where we satisfied our mortal beings with copper bracelets

The Aberdeen Fishing Village, featuring the Jumbo Restaurant and its astronomic prices

First stop was the Avenue of Stars, which had a lovely, expansive view of the harbor and where our other companions returned to watch the Symphony of Lights one night. We proceeded to a jewelry outlet, where I got myself a copper bracelet ($199) and saw D and B trying on nice diamond rings. The next stop was blah, because the souvenirs were overpriced and limited in range. We snapped some more photos at the Aberdeen Fishing Village, then proceeded to Disneyland.

No degree of hunger whetted our appetite for picture-taking (it was already midday, the weather sunny and lacking the cool breeze it gifted us the day before). We expected long lines and all — it was a Saturday afternoon anyway. Lunch was fish burgers, fries and lemon Coke, while the scent of pancakes and cotton candy pervaded everywhere. If you’re an adult who went to Disneyland for death-defying rides, the kid-centric offerings aren’t simply for you. Plan more time for Ocean Park instead. But if you went there to satisfy your life-long dreams of taking photos with Mickey and getting drenched in fantasyland things (gorgeous Tinkerbell, High School Musical parades, 4D shows, raft cruises in a man-made river, magical fireworks, and overpriced souvenirs), you came to the right place. The HK site, by the way, is the smallest Disneyland in the world.

Caucasian beauty, theatrics, signature flurry green flats -- that's Tinkerbell for you

Fish burger, fries and Coke for lunch, roughly $55 per meal

Friends minus Jeff, official photog for the trip

I love you, tomorrow...

Small wonder why Sleeping Beauty prefers to stay asleep.

Mickey haunting the Disney-manufactured dreams of many

Speaking of fireworks, we recorded on video the 10-minute attraction that caps off every Disneyland visit. But ours was deleted accidentally, while B’s video file was corrupted. Ayaw pa-video?!

On the way back to Kowloon, I was struck by the posh exterior of the Disneyland Hollywood Hotel. Those Mickey ears sticking out blended with the aesthetics quite marvelously.

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.

Stranded in HKIA for five or so hours, no thanks to poor coordination and the general incompetence of our travel agency (By this time, I’ve already tired of calling it The Travel Agent from Hell). Mr. Chan, representing the tour operator, arrived an hour later than expected at Arrival Hall B, and the bad part of the day started when he saw that our names weren’t on his list. “Could you please double-check,” I asked rather positively, unable to sense the long wait ahead.

He checked multiple times, made several phone calls, and still “Your names aren’t on our list” the same painful reply. We fielded calls and text messages to our local travel agent, and we discovered that there’s this complex process of coordination that goes on — Filipino Travel Agent books with Middle Person, then Middle Person proceeds to booking with The Tour Operator. Heck, there could even be another office among these three.  I probably got the process and labels wrong, but one thing’s for sure: your travel agent doesn’t book directly with the office that will pick you up at the airport, hand you your Disney/Ocean Park tickets, or tour you around town. And a blame game ensues.

Good airport food to make our unquiet minds still

So to clear our heads and rid of our frustration, we decided to take our first meal of the day (lunch) at Food2 in the airport. While wolfing down my glazed pork and rice and sampling what was the first of so many Lemon Coke during the trip, J said casually, “‘Di ba si Ronald Singson yan?” I was unsure whether it’s really the former Ilocos rep taking a leisurely walk inside the airport, but another companion agreed with J and said sure, it was really him. Our stomachs full and bad feelings starting to dissipate, we resolved to ask for a refund and just go on our own from there.

B and I were already looking for other hotels when Mr. Chan approached us. “We already mended the situation. Be ready to meet me there (pointing to AL pick-up point) in five,” he said. Our Filipino agent also texted us that all’s well, and that a refund’s no longer necessary. It all seemed just like a bad joke to her. And the gall of this person to namedrop and all after our five hours of waiting, which felt like eternity, especially with our lack of sleep (our flight was at 2 a.m.). But that signaled the start of our vacation,  passports stuffed inside bags, cameras going crazy.

Kowloon on a busy Friday afternoon

It was a chilly Friday afternoon when we boarded the tour bus, cruised through Lantau Island (where HKIA’s situated), and finally arrived at Dorsett Kowloon Hotel, our home for the trip. Like any other bustling urban district, HK has a yawning space problem, and so expect this business of tall buildings and everything going up in the city. Contrary to my first impression, it wasn’t such a shabby deal: two single beds in a room (comfortable only for a person, judging from Filipino hotel standards), all the hotel amenities you expect, and narrow hotel aisles, dining area, and lobby. I would recommend Dorsett on quiet Shanghai Street to friends.

Just a note, though: there are two other Dorsett Hotels in Kowloon, and I get the impression that Dorsett Seaview Hotel (where we were supposed to be billeted) is on a busier street. Compared to our Dorsett, Dorsett Seaview is nearer Mong Kok, where serious shopping is done.

Bust those dollars, baby

Kowloon nights we miss dearly

I went out that night with the same light, cotton blazer on, and boy, was it a chilly time to walk and walk and discover Kowloon’s shopping arena. After buying some tank tops at Cotton On, sampling my first HK egg tart on a nondescript road, and having 7/11 takeways for dinner, I finally went to sleep, my first in 24 long, loooooong hours.