Arrival in Hong Kong and a lesson learned

Arriving in Hong Kong around 9:30pm, I get on a bus to the city… it’s a gorgeous ride, Hong Kong is just unbelievably beautiful, all of the fantastic skyscrapers lining the water in every direction. I head to Chung King Mansion, on Kowloon, just across the bay. The book says there are tons of guesthouses there, so my odds should be good.

Easy enough finding it, since it’s right on the main drag, Nathan Road. Walking in, there is a sharp "pop" as my bubble gets pierced before my eyes. The description of it as "crumbling" is painfully accurate. What the Lonely Planet leaves out is mention of all the derelict people coming and going from there. Chung King Mansion is a shabby complex consisting of four towers with tailors on the ground level and two or three small hotels on every floor. There are two long queues for the elevators; each goes to different floors, one odds and the other evens. I pick one and start my search, up and down because you can only go up from the lobby, then you have to catch the elevator (or take the stairs) all the way down to the lobby and queue to go up again. I try the Traveler’s Hostel first, an old backpacker favorite. It looks in need of a good scrubbing, and they only have dorm beds. Not seeing anyone I can imagine sharing a room with, I continue searching.

I’m getting pretty weary when I meet an Egyptian guy in the elevator queue.

Anwar is doing the same thing as me, and swears he has been to every floor and says there isn’t a free room in the whole building. We decide since we’re in the same predicament we’ll team up with all of our luggage and keep each other company till morning and find rooms then. He is an English teacher who lives in Guangzhou, China. He’s been there five years and loves it. He is here in Hong Kong to renew his visa. He also recruits and trains teachers, he tells me, and he offers me a job. We find a stairwell, put down a tarp and sort of set up camp… until security comes and tells us we can’t stay there. We explain there are no rooms, we have nowhere to go, and just need to wait for morning. It’s about 2 am by now.

Security proceed to bug us every five minutes until finally they bring over a chubby Indian guy who says he has a room. We don’t know each other and don’t want to share a room, we tell them, but security insists we cannot stay on the stairs. The sleazy fat Indian wants 700 HKD. Which is just wrong, as the going rate for a room is something more like 150 HKD, and this is by far the most disgusting room I have ever slept in. We talk him down to 500 HKD (about $64 US), which is still a major ripoff and I’m really angry, at him for taking advantage of us, and the fact that I’m being forced to share a room with a stranger.

Anwar tells me I look sad, and I just lose it and tell him about the traumatic events of the last year, including my father’s death and my divorce. The cry is a big relief… until he tries to kiss me! I’m shocked and repulsed. Not only was I certain up to this point that he was gay (wow, my radar is off!), I am stuck in a room with him and nowhere else to go. Now I can’t even try to sleep. It is a very long and miserable sleepless night.

Anwar is up early, packing his bag to go to the embassy. He asks me to check my bag to make sure everything is there; he says I should be cautious and not trust anyone, not even him. As if I could feel any more uncomfortable than I already do. I check my bag and say all is okay. He leaves me his email address and tells me to contact him if I am interested in teaching in Guangzhou, and leaves me alone in the dirty pink room.

Lesson learned: Don’t ever, ever arrive in a new city late, alone and without a reservation. Sleep at the airport.