TADIOTO

Or whatever “Hong Kong” really means. 

Nice to get lost in a city for a while. Except for a short trip a few months back, I haven’t been to Hong Kong since the late ‘80s and early ‘90s. 

For the past two days, I’ve just wandered around, not bothering the few friends I have in town. 
I’ve noticed how much more international things seem. Mexican, Middle-Eastern, Japanese, French, Spanish, and Italian restaurants everywhere, many small and bistro-like. Found at least three Vietnamese restaurants, and five galleries offering art from Viet Nam. Neither food nor art too exciting. Can’t escape the sensation of being on Grant Street in Chinatown, San Francisco – but the winding and gentrifying streets and the curios boutiques here are also a reminder of Soho, London, and The Village, New York. Otherwise, the crowds and skyscrapers allow me an occasional Tokyo moment.

For every person speaking with a British accent, I hear another with an American one.
People seem upbeat, the economy’s doing better.
The newspapers have a few articles on the ten years since Hong Kong reverted back to China, but locals don’t seem to talk much about it. At least the few I’ve talked to. The big issue for those in their 30s and 40s is an identity question. British, Hong Kong, Chinese. As with many things these days, a state of flux, a confusion of who you really are. Or maybe it’s just me.
I’ve uploaded some photos here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/47327151@N00/sets/72157600389833210/
Hope you’re well.