Tag Archives: Hong Kong

So long, Hong Kong (and hello, creepy Malaysian perverts)


After thee days in Hong Kong I was ready to get out of the place, but I had a full day to kill till my flight at 8 o’clock. I slept in, then thought about taking a ferry to the ancient land of Macau, then decided to just catch a ferry to Wan Chai, then was pissed off because it was busy and hot and I had chafing between my legs that made it feel like my balls were going to catch on fire at any minute. I grabbed a beer and wandered aimlessly, ending up at the Happy Valley Racecourse. Which was closed.

I can see the Hong, but where’s the Kong?

Luckily, there was a bus stop advertising trips to Aberdeen, which was the only major place from Shenmue II that I hadn’t visited. It’s funny, I saw every place backwards – in the game, Ryo goes to Aberdeen, then Wan Chai, Kowloon and Guilin, and I did it the wrong way. Still, that’s better than wearing my shirt the wrong way or something. I remember my father did that one day, and even though I told him about it he still went to the shops with his bloody shirt on backwards. He’s a lot older now, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he now goes along to Bi-Lo without any pants on or something. Still, at Green Point Bi-Lo that would probably make him most fashionable person there.

Aberdeen there, Aberdeen that

Aberdeen was a nice place, relatively quiet and with a pleasant harbour to walk along. There were heaps of those junk boats floating around, some pretty sailing ships, and all up it made for a pleasant way to spend a day. And then my Hong Kong adventure was over, and it was time to move on to my next port of call – Malaysia!

Well, it sure beats swimming

The plane to Penang was almost empty, but a young Chinese couple still had to sit next to me the whole way. I was annoyed at first, but then I noticed they were very nervous, like they had drugs stuffed up their blurters or something. The the girl went off to the toilet, and the bloke headed off a minute or two later, trying (and failing) to act cool. The cheeky bastards were trying to join the Mile High Club (incidentally, both me and my brother are members of the Metre High Club, which simply involves masturbating on the train from Central to Gosford. Uh, we didn’t do it together).

Yay! A plane!

Anyway, a couple of minutes after old mate’s tottered off, I hear a scream from the back of the plane, and rushed up there with a couple of hosties. I forced the door open, and inside was the Chinese couple, all twisted around each other like they’d been in a car accident. They were screaming like they were being stabbed, and even though I couldn’t understand them it wasn’t hard to work out what had happened – they’d popped in for a root, and doing the dirty in the cramped Air Asia brasco had caused thee fella’s back to lock up, and the girl to get stuck between the sink and the wall. They had to stay that way until we landed an hour later, and some firefighters raced on to save them and probably have a good laugh.

Penang Airport was about as technically advanced as a Down Syndrome person’s lunch, but I raced through it and into a taxi, and was soon burning through late-night Malaysia. It was such a change from China – quiet, with clean air and English words written on buildings everywhere. It really felt like home after being in such a strange place. And then I got to my hotel, and it didn’t feel like home at all.

Palm trees in paradise

I was only using this joint as a flop house for about six hours till I caught a ferry out to the island paradise of Langkawi the next morning, but it was horrendous. When I walked in the front door, two old men were sitting in filthy chairs watching a hardcore porno on a black and white TV, joined by about half a dozen rats. The whole place smelled of rotten cabbage and sweat. Paint peeled from the walls, the carpet was ripped with patched of what looked like dried puke, and a dim corner of the room held what appeared to be a dead prostitute. It was like something out of a horror movie but fuck it, I had to sleep somewhere.

I called out to one of the perverts and he jumped up and walked over to a counter without putting his pants on or taking his eyes away from the TV. He threw a key at me, pointed up the stairs, then went back to jacking off with his mate. I went up the stairs as quickly as I could go.

My room smelt like piss. There were blood stains on the walls, and I’m pretty sure there was a peep hole drilled in the wall of the toilet, so I didn’t use it. I just pissed in the corner, figuring it would only improve the stench in the room.

The grundies on the floor weren’t even mine

I tried to wash my hands in the tap, and something that looked like black tar drizzled out, so I didn’t bother. I slept fully clothed, with a shirt between my head and the pillow, only waking up when someone in another room would scream in either ecstasy or terror. Around four, I woke up with the sensation of something sitting on my chest, and opened my eyes to see the biggest, meanest rat sitting there. I threw it off, and spent the next couple of hours crouched on my bed, kicking at rats, squashing cockroaches, and wondering if it’s possible to catch AIDS just from spending enough time in a horrible room.

When I left the next morning, the perves were still there watching porn, so I chucked a mandarin a one of their heads and ducked out the door… But it was all worth it, because a few hours later I was in Langkawi, and it was beautiful.

Sunrise over Penang – see, it’s not so bad after all!

I originally wrote this on May 8, 2012, which was the day the Earth stood still.

I will be your prisoner, I will be your Shek-O


After spending the last week really, really wanting to go to the beach, today I, uh, went to the beach. I used the internet for something other than searching for videos of fat people falling over and discovered a little place called Shek O, not far out of town on Hong Kong Island, and caught a bus out of there. And it was amazing! The beach was one of the best I’ve been to, with clear water and golden sand that gives way to a gigantic green mountain on one side of the beach. Surrounding it are little shacks and there were very few people there. It was like a little beach in Thailand, and a world away from the city I’d escaped.

All dem beaches, goddamn beaches, lots of beaches!

So that’s how I spent my day – reading on the beach, splashing about in the water, sleeping, and drinking cheap tinnies on the sand. It was incredibly relaxing and exactly what I needed after being overwhelmed by how busy most of Hong Kong is. It was actually quite surreal to be so close to the most densely populated place on Earth and basically have the place to myself.

The entrance to paradise

Around 2pm, a very fat man put his towel down next to me and stripped down to his board shorts. I raised my beer to him, and he introduced himself as Professor Tatsuya Yamamoto, Japan’s foremost expert on centipedes. He seemed like a nice enough bloke, but I left him to himself, because he obviously needed a break from discussing centipedes or whatever it is he does. And then along came Wang.

The notorious Wang

Wang was a skinny little Chinaman in a pair of dick slickers that hung halfway down his arse, so they covered nothing. He knelt down behind Tatsuya and, to the big bloke’s surprise, started giving him a massage.

The professor didn’t know what was going on, but Wang got out some suncreen and started rubbing it onto Tatsuya’s bulbous body, saying things like, “Your body is so beautiful that Wang would never be able to forgive himself if even one centimetre of it became burnt.” I’ll need to remember that line.

Then he pulled out a tiny g-banger and ordered Tatsuya to put it on. The professor was speechless but did as he was told, while Wang cheered him on.

Dat booty!

“Now Wang take photo of you,” said the pervert, and a clearly upset Tatsuya stood there giving a big thumbs up.
“No, no. You sexy man. You get into sexy position for Wang,” said the sicko, and before I knew it poor old Tatsuya was bending over spreading his legs while Wang fiddled with his zoom lens.

I went to get another beer, and when I got back, the boys were gone, and all that was left was a bottle of sunscreen and a book on anthropods. I can only assume that Tatsuya is now imprisoned in Wang’s rape dungeon, thus robbing the world of vital information on centipedes.

If there’s a nicer beach in Hong Kong, I’ll eat Molly Meldrum’s hat

As the sun slid behind the mountains I went for one last swim, then dropped in at a little Thai restaurant over the road for one of the best meals I’ve ever had. It was just a green curry with a side of spring rolls, but it was nothing short of abso-fucken-lutely delicious. I topped it off with four bottles of Singha, then wobbled off to catch a bus and two trains back to my mansion in Kowloon.

I took a quick stroll around town to see what was going on – there was the usual assault of neon and people and music and traffic – then picked up a few cans of beer and returned to the sanctuary of my room. The city parts of Honkers might be a bit too much to take in at times, but bloody hell, that Shek O goes alright.

Alright, I look a bit gay in this photo

I originally wrote this on May 7, 2012, which is known as May Day in most countries. Alright, only in Equatorial Guinea, but that’s the only country that matters.

The King of Kowloon


When I stepped out into the streets of Hong Kong I expected to see Oriental dudes doing flying kicks and those big, ceremonial dragons dancing down every laneway, but there was none of that. It turns out that’s just a cliche and the Chinese don’t really… oh wait, that’s exactly what I saw as I left my tiny hotel room.

Luckily, I don’t think it’s a real dragon

After escaping the madness, I made my way to the train station and caught the subway up to the northern end of Kowloon. The train system really is fantastic – turn up to the station and within two minutes you’re on your way to your destination. I can’t imagine what international tourists think when they jump on a Sydney train and have to deal with constant delays, rare services and blokes crapping themselves in the aisle.

Hey, come on, I had food poisoning!

A few minutes later I was walking through the gates of Kowloon Walled City Park, which stands on the site of the former Kowloon Walled City, which was the world’s most densely populated place until it was torn down in 1994. How densely populated was it? Thirty-three thousand people in a space the size of four football fields – or 200 times as populated as the rest of Hong Kong, which is simply mind-bending. They wouldn’t have been able to fart without giving their nextdoor neighbour written notice.

A model of the Walled City of Kowloon. I felt like stepping on it and pretending to be Godzilla

The city served as a major location in the greatest video game ever, Shenmue II, so walking through the remnants of it was a lot of fun, but it’s as far removed from what it used to be as possible. The walled city was a melting pot of crime, prostitution and poverty, a lawless place full of rotting buildings and extreme violence. The park, on the other hand, is incredibly calm, with water features, carefully-prepared gardens and temples taking the place of the home-made towers and drug ghettos that had been there. All up, it was pretty bloody cool.

The trains are packed tighter than an AFL player’s short-shorts

From there I strutted over to Kowloon’s shopping district, which is famous for its video game stores. The Golden Shopping Centre was dirty and busy, with aisles between stores as thin as a Labor Party policy. I tried to bargain my way to a cheap PlayStation Vita, wasn’t able to find one that was remarkably cheaper than the price back in Oz, and soon cracked the shits with all the people and noise and Indians trying to sell me drugs. I hate shopping at a place like Erina Fair, so this was a nightmare for me. So I escaped south to… Wan Chai, which was even busier.

I want a Slurpee!

Wan Chai, which is across the water on Hong Kong Island, was even more packed, and the beating sun made it a pretty unpleasant place. Still, it was a featured area in Shenmue II, so I walked around asking about the four wude and generally making a nuisance of myself for my own amusement. That’ll be a lot funnier if you’re a video game nerd. I also discovered that there’s a bakery selling hotdogs every few metres. Yep, there are delicious dogs everywhere, so I barely went five minutes at a time without having a sausage in my hand – but enough about my sex life!

I love sucking Asian sausages

Next stop was Man Mo Temple, up the road in Schen wang. It’s a fairly run-of-the-mill temple, but featured prominently in Shenmue II, so it was a must-see for me. And it was great! Unlike the other areas I’d been to, Man Mo was very similar to how it was shown in the games. I really felt like I was wandering through a video game. And then I got thrown out.

The Man Mo Temple. The bloke in the green shirt is my life partner, Trent Wu

Why did I get thrown out? Well, I was happy and a bit drunk, so I started dancing around inside the ancient temple. And the more I danced, the more I became lost in the moment, throwing my arms and legs this way and that, singing and thrusting my pelvis in a way I’d seen Elvis do. Wild dancing is probably frowned upon in Buddhist temples, but I think what really pissed them off was when I kicked over some big alter thing full of flowers and incense sticks. A bloke immediately grabbed me by the arm, and I turned around, ready to fight him. The only thing that stopped me was that I didn’t know if he was Master Man, the master of literature, or Master Mo, the master of martial arts and kicking heads. I could take the book nerd any day, but if he was the kung fu dude I was in for a world of hurt, so I ran out of there like a girl.

Can you blame me for mistaking it for a nightclub?

It was getting late, so I contemplated going home, but decided instead to catch a tram to the top of Victoria Peak and check out the city. I love looking out at wonderful views, but there was nothing wonderful about this, ‘cos it was absolutely packed up there. Like, hundreds of people crammed onto a platform, jabbering away and pushing and shoving for position. It was about as relaxing as getting sucked off by a cannibal.

“Hey, I can see my rickshaw from here!”

Alright, the view was incredible, especially as the sun set. The skyscrapers stretch out forever, and as the sky darkened and the lights came on, it was like looking out over the future. But I soon tired of it and raced out of there looking for some peace and quiet. Luckily, with such good public transport I was back in my room half an hour later, with a bag full of assorted beers to keep me company. I just couldn’t face another night of fighting through the crowds and telling curry munchers to fuck off, so I watched some Californication and wrestling, listened to some music, wrote, and passed out in my cell. Yeah, I really, really need a day at the beach.

Sunset over The City of a Million Ping Pong Balls

This was originally written on May 6, 2012, the day that Princess Diana died. Do you remember where you were? I was in Hong Kong, trying on hats. A stranger on the street, Dudley Wong, broke down in my arms. We’re now best friends.

Doggy Style


After three days in Guilin that were as sweet as the contents of a fat kid’s lunch box, it was time to jump on a plane and fly over to Hong Kong.

With a mid-afternoon flight, there wasn’t a lot of time to do anything special, so I took one last walk around Guilin and had a terrific lunch of fried chicken on a stick, beef on a stick, and something else on a stick. When I asked the dude behind the counter what it was he made a roaring sound, which could’ve been a dog, a cat, or an elderly person taking their last breath. Old person or not, it was delicious.

Deep fried dildo?

But the real action came on the taxi ride out to the airport. There’s no delicate way to put this – I saw a bloke fucking a dog. Right there by the side of the road, like it was the most normal thing in the world (hell, this is China, maybe it is). Don’t worry, though, the dog looked like it was having the time of its life, and old mate seemed to be a good sport because he have me a wave and a big smile as I went past. I waved back, and then he continued fucking Fido and I continued on my way.

It looked exactly like this, only the dog was bigger and the dude didn’t have any pants on. On he was Asian, not black, and didn’t have a beard. Other than that, it was exactly the same

My China Southern flight was chockers with geriatric Seppos, who gave me the shits with their constant talking and stupid jokes and colourful shirts and Americanness. Luckily, the flight was only an hour or so, so I was able to escape Air Fuckwit and make my way into Honkers.

The train ride from the aiport is a great introduction to the place, as the ultra-modern rattler zooms between gigantic glass buildings, through mountains and over beautiful blue waterways. It’s such a modern and exotic city, and once the train stopped off at Tsim Sha Tsui, I was overwhelmed by the hectic pace of the town, with people and taxis zooming this way and that while neon signs flashed above.

Honk Kong or Wyong? You be the judge

It’s a fantastic place to visit, but also busy and noisy and full of people trying to sell you shit or rip you off, which makes it the opposite of the sorta place I like spending my time. I took my camera out to take some snaps of the signs and tidal waves of people, got lost, didn’t drink beer ‘cos I don’t know if you can do that in the streets. Despite the number of people of the Asian persuasion, it’s a very, very western city – it was hard to get used to being able to walk across a street on a green light without having cars or bikes race through anyway – but also a bit stale and lifeless. It’s sort of how I felt about Las Vegas – lots of lights and action, but that’s only a facade. I think you’d really have to live in this place to get a proper feel for it, and to truly understand what Hong Kong is about

Where’s Warry?

It’s also quite annoying to actually walk anywhere. Every five metres is a woman offering a massage, or a seedy Indian chap offering fake Rolexes, tailoring or weed. It’s really just a den of rip-offs, and makes a walk through Patong seem tame. There’s also not much of a street food culture here, with barely any nibblies available without going into a restaurant and paying Aussie prices. Of course, if I’d wandered out of the main part of Kowloon and visited some of the side streets, I would’ve probably found all sorts of amazing animals being fried in the gutters, but doing so would bring the risk of a stabbing, so I ended up grabbing a sandwich and some chips from a 7 Eleven and heading back to my room.

Is that Yik Yu from Degrassi Junior High?

My trip through China has been incredible. I’ve seen amazing things, met wonderful people, and been challenged in a lot of ways, but it certainly hasn’t been a relaxing holiday. I’m a pretty simple dude – gimme a day at the beach and a good book and I’m happy. Chuck in a 49kg 19-year-old in a bikini and I’m grinning like a priest with a 12-month subscription to smallboyswithnoclotheshavingsexwithmendressedasclowns.com. In that way, trekking through some of the biggest cities in the world, and a ‘village’ bigger than Sydney, hasn’t been the best fit and has left me feeling frustrated and burnt out. But I wouldn’t change a thing. It has all been wonderful. Shit, I could really spend a day or two on the beach, though.

Why can’t they have their signs in bloody English?

I originally wrote this on May 5, 2012, which was the first day of the rest of my life.