With the finish line in sight we catch a short ferry ride from Macau back to Hong Kong, stopping en-route for a Portugese tart – which is a Macanese sweet cake rather than a dubious service offered by seedy hoteliers,
After a mammoth hunt for a hotel room that was not only central but clean and decent sized (most rooms in Hong Kong would only be considered big by the supporting cast of Snow White) we give up and decided clean was good enough. After being made to wait outside for over an hour for it to be cleaned, we are then bizarrely moved into a different one. We are too tired to care, so simply check that the suspiciously shoddy looking adjoining door is securely locked and head out for food.
Returning several hours later, we find our room resembles a Rastafarian kipper smoking factory. Choking back the tears we investigate the cause further to find that the adjoining door is connected to a Buddhist temple and they are having a monumental incense burning festival. Not feeling particularly Buddhist about the prospect of spending the night expecting Pink Floyd to appear through the bathroom door the obliging manager gets an earful and we get yet another room.
No comments:
Post a Comment