We landed in Hong Kong late at night. The next morning we woke at 7am and, determined to put a clamp on any transpacific jetlag, we set off in search of coffee. Local coffee, of course, because to get anything other than a cultural infusion…
Check out the house band at the Sands resort and casino in Macau. A sea of calm amongst a sea of very very calm and serious gamblers.
As related to me by Taylor Dixon, a tai-pan in the truest sense:
There’s something to be said for a week in Hong Kong: Our shin splints have given way to calves of steel and an uncanny ability to manoeuvre crowds. Our steamed dumpling radar is more or less bang on. And our Cantonese sucks. Trying to pass…
What a difference a day makes. After a 14 hour connecting flight through Beijing, my first move as a savvy backpacker is to totter up to the transit information booth, cut in front of another group of travelers, and exclaim “How much is the bus…
