I must confess that I haven't done much after finishing the entire draft in August. I returned to Hong Kong to visit my boyfriend and my brother, who was hospitalized for an unknown lump on his back only to discover that it's infection by the mould. How bizarre it is. I had a wonderful time in Hong Kong, following the advice from my supervisor, who believes that I should take a break so that I can have a fresh eye on my thesis.
I took her advice faithfully, ending up doing nothing but spending time dine and wine away my entire vacation in Hong Kong. A good thing to do, I must say. Never in my life can I have so much pleasure and leisure in Hong Kong. Work pressure is outrageous in this little town. With over 7 million population in just about 2000 sq.km, it is not just packed and compact in terms of physical space, but also emotionally, you feel you are entirely filled up. Virtually I work 10 to 12 hours a day. Starting from 10 am to 10 pm. And when I go home, I still work for an hour or two when I get home. This is the awful thing about technological advancement. When all your documents and work is just a click away.
What I am glad about the trip is that at least I could act like a visitor for a while to enjoy something I could barely do when I was in my hometown. And looking at my home city from a new perspective. It is vibrant, it's lovely, at times suffocating, but after all, it makes you feel fully-charged and young and crazy all the time.
Viva Hong Kong!!
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Saturday, September 4, 2010
10 hours stuck in Heathrow- a consequence of sheer stupidity
You wouldn't be able to believe this. I am now staying at Weatherspoon in Heathrow, plugging in my computer , writing the blog, because I still have almost five hours to kill before boarding on my connecting flight to Glasgow. In fact, I have been in the airport for, let me think..., five hours already.
You may wonder how on earth I can end up getting stuck for ten hours at the airport and how I am going to kill my time. Well, Well, to answer the first question, let me explain a little bit. I learnt from a Glaswegian (Chinese) that there is a good deal traveling to London with a package of hotel plus train that cost around 100 pounds and staying in a hotel close to where I usually hang out (the same old place, Bloomsbury, Covent Garden...). So, I went to that travel agent, only to find that it's a deal offered to two persons. I thought they are decent enough so when I discovered that the BA flight I tried to order is a bit more expensive than my original budget. I called them for help. They gave me a deal a bit cheaper than purchasing online, (around 40 pounds less. But I ended up getting charged an extra 18 pounds...Urgh...)and when I talked to the agent, it was early, and I never functioned properly in the morning. So, I said yes. By the time I came to my senses that I could be in trouble, it was already too late. Because then, I realized I would need to wait for ten hours at the airport. The flight was booked. The damage was done. So, I just cheered myself up that actually, it's not too bad. I could nap and then read and then get online and then do some window shopping. Sounds like a good plan. So, here I am, slept for 5 hours on the plane. (Plus 45 mins at the airport.) Finished the Glamour magazine and half of The New Yorker and plunging in the most-wanted-to-read book of the moment LOOT by Sharon Waxman, I came to my own realization from this self-stranded episode.
Points to note
1.OK. Don’t be stupid enough to save just 50 to 100 pounds at the expense of ten hour jail at the airport. You may end up blaming no one but yourself for gloating at your frugality and cautious spending. But seriously, I need to think I am frugal because I am so totally NOT one, never ever will get close to that word. Believe me.
2.Even though shops are everywhere at T5 in Heathrow. It will drive you completely nuts for not having enough money to shop till you drop when you are stuck here. Seeing all the beautiful things and rating how much you can spend is like you are seeing the divine Pierce Brosnan naked in his best form but can’t touch him
Good things about self-stranding
I bumped into
1)Pamela Anderson, aka the Baywatch babe and best known for her absolutely gobsmacking sex video with her ex, strutting at T5 without any shoes on. She looks exactly like what I saw at Borat. A blonde with a tanned body, nothing amazing really. She is just about my height. Am short. (or may be am just jealous - I am wearing my geeky glasses to hide my bleary,dopey eyes)
2) A bunch of UN Argentinian armies. Wanted to ask them where they are going but worried that they may think I am a freak
3) A total jerk who is totally self-obsessed with his feet and gave me a shot and gushed, "It’s my feet" when I asked him to excuse me and my little suitcase and God knows why the wheels of my suitcase just wanted to attack him. Well, I know. Because when I asked him to excuse me he refused to do so. Fucking jerk I told you to excuse me. What if I am Angelina Jolie? Will you still care about your little feet or will you be down on own stupid knees?
Okok! It’s fun to be stuck here, even though I am dead knackered.
You may wonder how on earth I can end up getting stuck for ten hours at the airport and how I am going to kill my time. Well, Well, to answer the first question, let me explain a little bit. I learnt from a Glaswegian (Chinese) that there is a good deal traveling to London with a package of hotel plus train that cost around 100 pounds and staying in a hotel close to where I usually hang out (the same old place, Bloomsbury, Covent Garden...). So, I went to that travel agent, only to find that it's a deal offered to two persons. I thought they are decent enough so when I discovered that the BA flight I tried to order is a bit more expensive than my original budget. I called them for help. They gave me a deal a bit cheaper than purchasing online, (around 40 pounds less. But I ended up getting charged an extra 18 pounds...Urgh...)and when I talked to the agent, it was early, and I never functioned properly in the morning. So, I said yes. By the time I came to my senses that I could be in trouble, it was already too late. Because then, I realized I would need to wait for ten hours at the airport. The flight was booked. The damage was done. So, I just cheered myself up that actually, it's not too bad. I could nap and then read and then get online and then do some window shopping. Sounds like a good plan. So, here I am, slept for 5 hours on the plane. (Plus 45 mins at the airport.) Finished the Glamour magazine and half of The New Yorker and plunging in the most-wanted-to-read book of the moment LOOT by Sharon Waxman, I came to my own realization from this self-stranded episode.
Points to note
1.OK. Don’t be stupid enough to save just 50 to 100 pounds at the expense of ten hour jail at the airport. You may end up blaming no one but yourself for gloating at your frugality and cautious spending. But seriously, I need to think I am frugal because I am so totally NOT one, never ever will get close to that word. Believe me.
2.Even though shops are everywhere at T5 in Heathrow. It will drive you completely nuts for not having enough money to shop till you drop when you are stuck here. Seeing all the beautiful things and rating how much you can spend is like you are seeing the divine Pierce Brosnan naked in his best form but can’t touch him
Good things about self-stranding
I bumped into
1)Pamela Anderson, aka the Baywatch babe and best known for her absolutely gobsmacking sex video with her ex, strutting at T5 without any shoes on. She looks exactly like what I saw at Borat. A blonde with a tanned body, nothing amazing really. She is just about my height. Am short. (or may be am just jealous - I am wearing my geeky glasses to hide my bleary,dopey eyes)
2) A bunch of UN Argentinian armies. Wanted to ask them where they are going but worried that they may think I am a freak
3) A total jerk who is totally self-obsessed with his feet and gave me a shot and gushed, "It’s my feet" when I asked him to excuse me and my little suitcase and God knows why the wheels of my suitcase just wanted to attack him. Well, I know. Because when I asked him to excuse me he refused to do so. Fucking jerk I told you to excuse me. What if I am Angelina Jolie? Will you still care about your little feet or will you be down on own stupid knees?
Okok! It’s fun to be stuck here, even though I am dead knackered.
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