Made in Hong Kong
Despite loving SE Asian food more than Chinese (actually, the only Chinese food I've eaten so far is room service beef brisket noodles. Last night it was German beerhall food. Really. And insanely decadent buffet at the Intercontinental. There's something perverse about all you can eat foie gras, champagne and lobster. I'm not sure what happened, flu or food poisoning, but I threw up the entire flight from Sinagapore to Hong Kong, then kept puking in the airport and the subway station. Thankfully, I took barf bags from the plane. They're so obsessed with sweeping and cleaning here to that I'd feel much worse about throwing up on the sidewalk than in NYC. Worse, in that someone would inevitably see what you were up to. Workers are disconcertingly eagle-eyed. I'll never get used to the Asian stand one inch from your shoulder while you sign credit card slips approach. But then, people don't tip at most regular restaurants, primarily becuase of the 10% service charge, so I guess you're just supposed to sign and hand over quickly, no mental tip calculation or you just leave cash) I'm glad to be in Hong Kong if only for the more tolerable weather.
Of course, everyone's bundled up in winter coats despite only being 66 degrees, which isn't all that different from New Yorkers who seem to crack out the gloves, scarves and mittens once it gets into the 50s. Yes, I have issues with seasonally inappropriate behavior.
We only have three days left on vacation, which bums me out because I don't feel relaxed or satisfied in the least. It would take at least one more full week to feel right. Ok, off to find dim sum at a restaurant that may or may not have English menus. We'll see. Oh, and roast goose for dinner. Chinese food all the way today.