Hong Kong! Another city and another country to tick off on our bucket list. But being budget bucketeers, we don’t stay in the heart of the City for our explorations. We seek out an alternative location for lodging that is affordable, attractive, convenient, and within easy access of downtown. And being supercool wouldn’t hurt. And we score big time.

We actually begin our long intercontinental day in Livermore, California — a few miles east of San Francisco, where we’ve spent the night visiting Kimberly’s old classmate Carol and her husband Ed. Carol takes us to Trader Joe’s to stock up for our voyage overseas, the last TJ’s, alas, that we’ll be seeing for a couple of years. Then at the appointed time she drops us off at BART, which takes us to the San Francisco airport.

Our check-in is seamless, and we are pleased to see that there are free dispensers for drinking water after we go through security. We hope that every airport will provide this crucial amenity in the near future.

This flight to Hong Kong requires changing planes in Seoul. On this long leg of the trip, we are provided with two meals, but neither is vegetarian. We’d tried to arrange vegetarian meals, but when we called earlier in the morning, we were told that we have to take care of it 24 hours in advance online. Which we’d tried to do — but there was no option provided on the website for online arrangement; the website just stated that we had to call. Which we did. But we were told… well, you get the idea. So we settled for just picking out bread and a couple of other things that suited our tummies. At least we are provided with handy disposable slippers for getting around, in the Asian mode, without our outside shoes. And we are able to get a little shuteye.

When we land at Incheon Airport in Seoul, it’s 4:15 a.m. local time. And it’s Thursday, whereas we took off on Tuesday; we leapfrogged over Wednesday more or less entirely — we did witness a few minutes of sunrise (or was it sunset) and then there was dark again. It’s our first time ever in Korea, but we don’t count it in our official tally of nations visited, because we don’t have time to venture outside the friendly confines of the airport terminal. So it joins the ranks of Iceland, Panama and Singapore in that respect.

What we do learn, to our dismay, is that our plane change requires exiting the secure area and going through a security checkpoint again. At which there are some rather long lines. To make matters worse, after we’ve already stood in line about half an hour, it dawns on us (at more or less dawn) that we’ll need to empty our water packs. And we’re not certain whether there’s a place to do it at the checkpoint — the lines are too long and congested to make out anything up there. So we get out of line, find a place to dump our water, and get back in line. The queues have begun to shrink by then, but it’s still a pretty long wait. And when we get to the end we discover that, yes, there is indeed a water dumping station.

With a couple of hours to spare, we roam about Incheon Airport, and find it to be an interesting facility with a number of comforts and lures for the passenger on pause. But we’re thwarted in our prime objective, which is to secure some hot water for our customary, ritualistic, mandatory, obsessive morning tea. There is one little popular (i.e., horrendously crowded) diner with a water dispensing station. And one of the taps there is designed to dispense hot water. But it is, alack and alas, nonfunctional.

When we inquire behind the counter about the possibility of obtaining some of the precious commodity, they inform us that the airport management will no longer permit them to offer it. Likely story. It’s not hard to see the actual probable explanation. Among the items sold by the diner are instant cups of noodles, which are quite popular in Asian cultures. Many people, if they had access to hot water, would simply bring in their own noodle cups, purchased at a much lower price, and help themselves. Quite often, when you dig down beneath a policy deep enough, you find a profit margin at the foundation. (At this point, by the bye, we gladly would have paid for a cup of tea, but it was not an option on the menu.)

And so, thus cruelly deprived of our morning fix, we valiantly soldier on in the waiting room until our next plane arrives. This time, it’s a different airline, and they do (huzzah) have a vegetarian meal for us. It consists of rice and vegetables, a cold dish with garbanzos and other vegetables, bread, and a few pieces of fruit. Not gourmet, but not bad, and filling enough.

The landing in Hong Kong is only a few minutes behind schedule, and the immigration process is quick and smooth. The agents issue us a little chit instead of a passport stamp, which seems a bit risky, because folks don’t call a slip a slip for nothing; it can slip out and give you the slip. In fact, we spot someone’s on the floor, and we wonder if they’ll ever be able to exit the country, or will have to live like Tom Hanks in that flick.

The airport is not on the Hong Kong mainland, but on Lantau Island. Well, okay, it’s actually on a small island next to Lantau Island, but they’re separated only by a bridge less than 1000 feet long, so they might as well be the same island. So we have decided it makes much more sense for us to stay on Lantau Island rather than in the heart of the city, which is much more expensive — and is easily accessible by ferry.

We toy with the idea of obtaining an “Octopus Card” for public transit, but it would have cost 5 dollars each, nonrefundable, just for the plastic itself — on top of the actual fares. If we want plastic that badly, we can retrieve it free from the recycle bins. Instead, we go ahead and withdraw some local currency (which we would have done anyway) from an ATM of HSBC, which we have determined offers the lowest fees among local banks.

The next step is to catch a taxi to our Airbnb on the other side of the island. What we need is one of the blue taxis, which are not as plentiful as the green ones. But we snag one, and it takes us the distance of about 10 miles for a cost of 318 dollars. No, no. wait. Don’t panic. Those are Hong Kong dollars. In American, the fare translates to about 40 bucks. Bad enough, but not nearly as bad as the 31 dollars we’d recently paid for a ride of only a couple of miles back in the States.

The taxi deposits us in the seaside town of Mui Wo, near the apartment building where we’ll be staying. Our host is out until evening, but she has arranged to leave the keys in a nearby shop. Finally managing to track them down, we go upstairs to our digs for the next few days. It’s a small but clean and comfortable apartment which we’ll be sharing with the host, named May, who is (as we were not so long ago) a theatre person. We’re very close to the ferry terminal, the bus terminal, the beach, and a couple of supermarkets — the biggest and best of which, called Wellcome (yes, double L) is part of the street scene from our window. Not a bad place to be at home.

There are also some hiking trails, which we explore the next day after sleeping off the jet lag. We trudge up the hill to a waterfall, a temple, and what is billed as a cave, though it’s really just a sealed-off tunnel. Along the way, we pass a few domesticated water buffalo and a pineapple patch guarded by a fashionista scarecrow. Unlike many other places we’ve visited, there are bathrooms all over the place. Free bathrooms. And clean.

Coming back down the hill, we pass a marketplace near the waterfront, with a number of open-air stalls, as well as storefront shops. Among the latter is an enticing little gift shop sporting what might be termed New Age items — though we’re hesitant to use that expression, because almost everyone hates it, especially those who get branded with the label. In any case, we decide it’s worth going in to browse.

Behind the counter is the proprietor, a fellow American named Josh. He hails from Atlanta, and had gone back to visit the previous fall, and was quite put off by how politically polarized the country has become. We hear you bro. He’s now happily settled here on Lantau Island, and from everything we’ve seen, it’s an excellent choice.

Indeed, we’re quite pleased with our selection of the island, and of Mui Wo in particular, as a base of operations for our first conquest of Hong Kong. Practically in our back yard, we have easy access to the mainland city and other locations, markets to buy supplies, a beach, hiking, history and scenic grandeur. We’re all set in style. Now look out Hong Kong, here we come.

Events occurred 6/23-27/2025