Night time in Hong Kong is a sensory overload and I don’t really remember too much of the nights here. I believe we spent most of our times stumbling around with our heads in constant swivel and mouths agape like the clowns at carnivals that you put ping pong balls into. Keeping a close hold on our wallets and it’s contents, which seemed so eager to fly into the hands of every flashy store we passed. Luckily we managed to restrain ourselves because Hong Kong is the most expensive city by far. After months of travelling in the cheaper parts of the world we were used to paying very little for most things, or at least having that option. And the budget blowouts probably had something to do with the floor-dropped jaws. Although, it wasn’t all bad. The high prices reminded us of Sydney and allowed us to easily create the feeling of home. 

We got up early the next morning so that we could line up to apply for our Chinese visas. Because we went through so much and because it’s an allegedly tough process I’ll spend a little bit of time to elaborate. 

Firstly, you have to make your way to the Chinese consular. It’s not hard to find, there are plenty of directions that generous travellers have shared online. Make sure you get there early, before opening hours, so that you can line up and share your sweet sweat smells with other visa hopefuls. Wear comfy shoes as it’s forbidden to sit, kneel or squat whilst in the line. Why? I have no idea, but I believe it has something to do with making the process as dignified as possible. Which brings me to the next point, at 9 o’clock the attendants will tease you by pretending to open the door, they’ll then wait fifteen more agonising minutes, in order to fully empty the sweat glands of all the applicants. Once the gates are open, this is where all the dignity of standing for an hour is thrown out the window as everyone rushes to pass through security and be the first up the small elevator. If you get to the elevator and the doors are still open don’t expect anyone to press the “door open” button, remember, everyone's dignity was left in the puddle of sweat in the waiting line. Also, if you bring a water bottle, you’ll have to part with it before you ascend to the heavenly visa processing floor. It seems the staff don’t like arming people with anything that can be tossed into an obstinate visa processors face. When you depart with your water bottle (don’t worry you can get it back later), finally ascend to the third floor and have shoved that little old lady against the wall (hey, she shoved me first) you’ll then enter a second line. This is where all the visa application documents will go through an initial screening to confirm if you’ve filled them out correctly. Do your research folks. Find out what you need then find out what you don’t need then print them out and bring both of them. Then swell yourself with confidence and give them to the “Checker” knowing that you’ll breeze right through. Jokes. You didn’t fill out your hotel details, even though you’ve got a detailed itinerary in the back. That doesn’t matter though, they need to appear on the actual application form that clearly says you can provide them separately. Hold on, what’s this? You haven’t photocopied your Hong Kong entrance slip, which you only received yesterday. Too bad, better do that too. Don’t have change for the photocopier? That’s also too bad, because we won’t give you any, although we’ll happily jiggle a giant jar of coins in front of you, which we can only assume is a swear jar for the visa hopefuls that get their applications wrong, while you continue to feel around on the floor for your dignity. Hint: it’s downstairs in the lobby. Thankfully, everyone that’s not an employee is experiencing exactly the same feelings as you and will probably be kind enough to share their coins, which they did for us. Thank you sweet coin sharing visa applicant woman. 

If you’re applying with a friend or significant other it’s important to stress to yourself that none of this is their fault, it belongs solely in the shitty process management of a government that wants to appear austere. So repeat after me: It’s not Richelle’s fault, it’s China’s fault. You love Richelle but you kind of hate China. But you really want to see the great wall and terracotta warriors, so in the end it’s worth it. It’s not Richelle’s fault. Once your breathing is regulated, divide and conquer the challenges set by the Checkers. Teamwork is a great way to galvanise any relationship.

Now that you’ve fixed your application, that you were sure was right, get back in that line and prepare for your showdown with Mister Checker. Hand it to him and find some hidden reserves of sweat. Success! Now that it’s approved, take those documents back, take a ticket and head to a seat, where you will wait on a sticky leather chair that a thousand other nervous applicants have waited, and sweated on, before you. Keep the documents held well away from your body to avoid any wayward sweat drips. Nervously smile at other people that have made it this far through the trials, but don’t engage with them. These guys are your competitors, there might be only one visa left! When your number is called, if you’re with a buddy you can both go up on the same number, move as quickly as a Chinese visa applicant at opening hours and get to your designated window. Seriously, move quickly, if you don’t make the window in time they’ll assume you suffered a cardiac arrest, which mysteriously happens a lot in their offices, and move to the next number. This is also why it’s good to have a buddy, you’ll get two sequential numbers. Suckers. Before you get to the window, if there’s two of you, decide who’s going to do the talking so that you don’t confuse or anger the person by talking over one another. Then when you get to the window, forget all about this and talk right over the person you promised you wouldn’t. Finally, after two hours of trials and tribulations, hand your document to the lady behind the window and wait at the most nervous moment of the day as she cherry picks certain bits of paper that she seems to arbitrarily choose. Also spend some time wondering why the glass is bullet-proof and if it has anything to do with the raging British lady who clearly wasn’t getting into China today. Watch the woman behind the window tick a few pages and then ask her in your sweetest and friendliest voice, make sure there are no cracks, if you can get the rush service because you’ve got a train in four days. When she hands you the receipt, exhale all that carbon dioxide you’ve been holding in for the last two hours and give each other (or yourself if you’re alone) a little high five and slowly and calmly make your way back to the elevator. Laugh to a couple of other people that are doing the same. Then remember that you have to be back in three days to see if it’s approved. Then laugh again more nervously.

The next few days, whilst waiting nervously, we spent most of our time doing anything and everything that was free. This mainly consisted of going into art galleries and going for hikes. It’s worth mentioning Hong Kong has a bunch of cool art galleries with equally if not more cool artists. Each art gallery is a challenge in itself to find but worth it as you make your way through the city in a well cultured adult version of an easter egg hunt. 

By far our favourite part of Hong Kong was spent hiking up the Dragon’s Back on the eastern side of the island. There are lots of different directions online, make sure you read them all for maximum confusion and the best way finding challenge. Also make sure you leave in the middle of the morning on the hottest day you’re there, this will result in fully draining any left over sweat from waiting for that Chinese visa. 

I won’t go too much into the process. But if you feel like some good old fashioned bush whacking, go straight up to the cemetery from the station, then climb up the thousand or so steps to the little park with the car park. At this point, check your position on Google maps and realise you’re on the wrong side of the mountain. Then take the path that says no entrance, because it is going in the right direction. As we walked along this forbidden path we got some amazing shots of a beach below, that we never sadly never got to. Finally, as expected, the concrete path ran out. Luckily for us, some kind orienteers of a previous time had laid ribbons along the bamboo thicketed path that would eventually lead to the proper path and the Dragon’s Back. You’ll spend the next hour or so swallowing spider webs and walking in a crouch, but once you hit the main path you’ll fondly remember the protective shading of the thick bamboo as you’re slapped in the face by the noon-day sun. We kept on going and finally made the summit. After trying to hid behind a concrete slab, which offered the only shade, we took our photos in our super-absorbant black shirts and fled back along the dragon. Shouting every now and then “dracarys” and (NO SPOILERS) lamenting the fate of the characters in Game of Thrones. We stumbled into a Seven Eleven at the bottom of the mountain and chugged as much water as we could get our hands on. Unfortunately, a greedy local man was already standing in front of the freezer, we assumed he’d also just climbed the Dragon’s Back and left him to his icy reward. 

You all know by now that our visas were approved, thank Buddha, and that we successfully navigated the border into China. But that didn’t stop us from losing a few hours of sleep each night wondering what we’d do in Hong Kong for the next 4 weeks if they were denied. Thanks for having us HK.