The Story Behind Hong Kong and Macau [continued]
I planned the Hong Kong-Macau holiday eight months earlier. Little did I know that it would turn out to be a soul-finding experience, as somewhere along the way to November, my heart and soul got shredded to pieces. With the unwavering support of family and friends (thank you! I really love you guys!) and self-nurtured resilience, I somehow managed to survive and keep sane. I don't even know anymore how to describe what I've been through, but it sure was seventh hell. I was adrift in a sea of confusion, lies, and conflicting emotions, desperately trying to stay afloat and reach the shore. I gave so much love--unconditional to a fault--only to have it rejected and thrown away. I didn't even know how to begin picking up the pieces: where to start, which one to mend first, the soul or the heart--or are they one and the same?
My world turned upside down, inside-out, spinning frantically in an axis of pain. I just wanted to find my way back to normal. But every turn seemed to lead to more pain, until finally, having exhausted all means and emotions to make things right, the only alternative left was to just give up. I've never been a quitter but I know when to say enough is enough. No matter how much love I've gambled away, I kept some for myself in case of emergency. And that reserve fuel of love is what kindled the flame of hope, which in turn roared into the fire of a promising new beginning.
I went to Hong Kong not for leisure, but with the objective of forgetting the past and getting as far away as possible from my source of pain. Albeit with friends, I knew I was venturing into the experience alone. I flew solo to HK. I used to be so scared of flying--almost phobic--but surprisingly, there wasn't even an ounce of fear. The minute I entered the airport, I felt like I've been traveling and flying alone my whole life. I wasn't afraid or worried. I ditched crafting an itinerary and a budget breakdown. All I knew was that I was independent and that no matter what happened, I was confident I was going to survive. It wasn't the time to overthink and be overprepared. I've just weathered the toughest storm in my life and everything else seemed trivial. Nothing or no one could ruin this trip for me. Armed with experience and wisdom, I soldiered forth and went with the flow.
I experienced Hong Kong like a local. Special thanks to dear bandmate Joon for taking me under his wing and for the sightseeing tips and gastronomic trips. I wasn't pressured into waking up early and taking sightseeing tours. I did everything on my own time. One time we went out drinking at Gecko, an awesome jazz bar in Soho featuring pinoy musicians, and even tagged along with the bassist to a club in Wan Chai for more entertainment and drinking ('karin to the max!). We got home right before daybreak, piss drunk and almost crawling. When we got to the apartment building, the doormen saw us step out of the cab and rushed to open the doors as they probably observed that we could barely walk straight, haha. Shortly after, I puked my guts out and nearly hugged the toilet bowl like a long lost friend. It was one helluva drinking experience in one helluvan amazing country. I shall never forget that. :)
I walked a lot. I rode the train, the ferry, the tram, the bus, the cable car. I walked along the Avenue of the Stars; held hands with Tony Leung and Andy Lau; witnessed the Symphony of Lights; bought a black Epiphone SG guitar (my apologies for betraying the bassist in me, but I've always wanted a guitar, too); drooled over and finally gave in to a pair of Zara boots (that I scouted three Zara stores for!); went skyjumping in Macau (which cured me of my fear of heights and loosened me up); got lost between the past and the present in Macau's Senado Square; played the slots in Wynn and Grand Lisboa; almost got a tattoo in Tsim Sha Tsui; visited Lantau Island and the Big Buddha with Val and Karla; went emo over Saeglopur; took lots of pictures and made lots of memories; fell in love with Soho; had my first absinthe; frolicked in Kowloon Park and Victoria Park; prayed at the Wong Tai Sin temple; window shopped at H&M, Muji, Uni Qlo, and HMV; snaked my way through the Mongkok ladies market; harassed three sales attendants in Mongkok trying to find the perfect pair of boots--to no avail--and almost bored Joon to death; went to Victoria Peak; had my picture taken with Bruce Lee; visited the Space Museum where I got to experience a manned maneuvering
unit (MMU) simulator and where I learned that a sundial is not an easy thing to create; and, most important and memorable of all, had the epiphany of epiphanies.
On the ferry crossing from Tsim Sha Tsui to Central, I realized that I am so lucky to be blessed with a loving circle of friends and a supportive family. Despite the pain, the craziness, and all the ugly mess, I'm actually thankful for what happened. For now I understand why it had to be that way. Had I not gone through what I'd gone through, I would never have experienced Hong Kong and Macau with eyes wide open. I would never have looked at the world with a hunger to conquer it. I've discarded my blinders and stepped out of the micro-universe I've lived in during the 5 years I was married. It's a big world out there, and this is only the beginning of my wonderful journey through it. I've only just started living, and the past will never be found in my future. I'm definitely never looking back.
My world turned upside down, inside-out, spinning frantically in an axis of pain. I just wanted to find my way back to normal. But every turn seemed to lead to more pain, until finally, having exhausted all means and emotions to make things right, the only alternative left was to just give up. I've never been a quitter but I know when to say enough is enough. No matter how much love I've gambled away, I kept some for myself in case of emergency. And that reserve fuel of love is what kindled the flame of hope, which in turn roared into the fire of a promising new beginning.
I went to Hong Kong not for leisure, but with the objective of forgetting the past and getting as far away as possible from my source of pain. Albeit with friends, I knew I was venturing into the experience alone. I flew solo to HK. I used to be so scared of flying--almost phobic--but surprisingly, there wasn't even an ounce of fear. The minute I entered the airport, I felt like I've been traveling and flying alone my whole life. I wasn't afraid or worried. I ditched crafting an itinerary and a budget breakdown. All I knew was that I was independent and that no matter what happened, I was confident I was going to survive. It wasn't the time to overthink and be overprepared. I've just weathered the toughest storm in my life and everything else seemed trivial. Nothing or no one could ruin this trip for me. Armed with experience and wisdom, I soldiered forth and went with the flow.
I experienced Hong Kong like a local. Special thanks to dear bandmate Joon for taking me under his wing and for the sightseeing tips and gastronomic trips. I wasn't pressured into waking up early and taking sightseeing tours. I did everything on my own time. One time we went out drinking at Gecko, an awesome jazz bar in Soho featuring pinoy musicians, and even tagged along with the bassist to a club in Wan Chai for more entertainment and drinking ('karin to the max!). We got home right before daybreak, piss drunk and almost crawling. When we got to the apartment building, the doormen saw us step out of the cab and rushed to open the doors as they probably observed that we could barely walk straight, haha. Shortly after, I puked my guts out and nearly hugged the toilet bowl like a long lost friend. It was one helluva drinking experience in one helluvan amazing country. I shall never forget that. :)
I walked a lot. I rode the train, the ferry, the tram, the bus, the cable car. I walked along the Avenue of the Stars; held hands with Tony Leung and Andy Lau; witnessed the Symphony of Lights; bought a black Epiphone SG guitar (my apologies for betraying the bassist in me, but I've always wanted a guitar, too); drooled over and finally gave in to a pair of Zara boots (that I scouted three Zara stores for!); went skyjumping in Macau (which cured me of my fear of heights and loosened me up); got lost between the past and the present in Macau's Senado Square; played the slots in Wynn and Grand Lisboa; almost got a tattoo in Tsim Sha Tsui; visited Lantau Island and the Big Buddha with Val and Karla; went emo over Saeglopur; took lots of pictures and made lots of memories; fell in love with Soho; had my first absinthe; frolicked in Kowloon Park and Victoria Park; prayed at the Wong Tai Sin temple; window shopped at H&M, Muji, Uni Qlo, and HMV; snaked my way through the Mongkok ladies market; harassed three sales attendants in Mongkok trying to find the perfect pair of boots--to no avail--and almost bored Joon to death; went to Victoria Peak; had my picture taken with Bruce Lee; visited the Space Museum where I got to experience a manned maneuvering
unit (MMU) simulator and where I learned that a sundial is not an easy thing to create; and, most important and memorable of all, had the epiphany of epiphanies.
On the ferry crossing from Tsim Sha Tsui to Central, I realized that I am so lucky to be blessed with a loving circle of friends and a supportive family. Despite the pain, the craziness, and all the ugly mess, I'm actually thankful for what happened. For now I understand why it had to be that way. Had I not gone through what I'd gone through, I would never have experienced Hong Kong and Macau with eyes wide open. I would never have looked at the world with a hunger to conquer it. I've discarded my blinders and stepped out of the micro-universe I've lived in during the 5 years I was married. It's a big world out there, and this is only the beginning of my wonderful journey through it. I've only just started living, and the past will never be found in my future. I'm definitely never looking back.