Boxing Day Part 2

Som emailed this to me a few days ago, and now it is up. If you want it to make sense, you could read Boxing Day Part 1, but I don't think the plot lines are that complex...

Once Som and I parted, I continued my delightful stroll in the warm but not too humid morning. Actually, I know that's not really the end of the sentence, but I need to talk about weather for a second here. Everyone in this town (!) is wearing jackets, jumpers, scarves and lots and lots of fur. (Real or fake, it is definitely chic right now) But, it is honestly not that cold. This season, I am mostly wearing (insert Fast Show joke here) slacks and a t-shirt. I have my thermal sleeves underneath, but they are often removed. Perhaps my thermometer is out due to the extreme December cold before I left, I can only hope it is the same in London, unlikely, I think I will need to buy that jacket. Dammit.

Anyhow, back to my stroll. I wandered along the parky Battery Path to St John's Cathedral, one of the only freestanding parts of land in HK, had a squiz in, and headed up to the Peak. I had to wait for about half an hour, perhaps a bit longer for the cable car (this time one that runs along a rail track and is more like a tram than the hanging ones from yesterday), but enjoyed gloating in others' misfortune when I came back and the queue was halfway up the hill - at least double as long, perhaps even more! The Peak was great - pretty darn impressive views of HK, and I watched an eagle soaring through the skies - and shortly after, saw two chasing each other. Nice.

After faffing here for a while, having a coffee and a bit to eat, I meandered back down and decided to go to the gallery. Took me a while to figure out where I was going, but I adopted the "If I look like I know where I'm going, I'll get there soon" attitude. Which worked this time, but not later. Actually, it didn't work this time. I wandered up through an impressive archway into a shopping centre, and it was lined with clocks. Doesn't sound impressive, but add to that a plethora of xmas decorations and almost as many people taking photos, and it is a lot more impressive! Eventually, I wandered through the performing arts centre and stumbled across the gallery. My cultural high horse was mounted when I noted it was very quiet - given how busy the clock arch thing was, why aren't people looking at art? Having said this, I found most of the art not to my liking... I'm not really into old stuff. I looked at a lot of the ceramics and the calligraphy, and it was good, but didn't grab me. What did grab me was the contemporary arts stuff... There was an exhibit called "Looking for Antonio Mak". Mak is the most famous Hong Kongese sculptor (according to Lonely Planet) and he passed away in 1994, and a lot of his artwork was quickly bought and then disappeared into personal collections. This is his first ever major gallery exhibition. I loved his work, but am not going to attempt to describe it here, as I cannot express the way I feel about it. Boo. I should be able to, but I won't. So there. The exhibition also contained work by other artists responding to Mak's work, some of which was very impressive, other stuff, well, I know what I like... My favourite thing was one of the artists had set up a studio in the foyer outside the exhibition and was carving work in response to his. I was too shy to talk to her. There was also a mini-documentary conceptual piece, in which people and companies who had Mak's work were asked to take a photo of it wherever it was on a certain day - that included photos of doors behind which his work was stored, plus a variety of homes, workplaces, bars and outdoor areas. Very cool.

When I left the gallery, I was accosted by a monk.

I will explain, but I like that sentence. Perhaps Facebook status? Ava told me, when we were walking in the Temple Night Market and a similar thing happened, that they are not allowed to do this, and monks who approach in this way are probably fake. He was so friendly, he gave me a card and a bracelet and I put my name (first name only) in a book, and then he asked for money. He wasn't too impressed when I said I had none and gave him $6HK (that's just over a buck Aus). He let me leave. I think my name may be cursed. Do monks do that? Fake ones might.

I then decided to grab a coffee and sit for a while, then to head home. My afore-mentioned attitude did not work, as I walked overground for ages before finding the MTR station, went down into it and then realised I was at the wrong line and had to walk even further the other way to get the right one. Eventually, I made it, got home in time to say goodbye as Som and Carrie went upstairs for dinner with her sister, and I wrote this diatribe. Is this a diatribe? Must we quibble? I am going to sit on a couch for a bit. Merry Boxing Day!