i am sitting in the central library of hong kong. the view is gorgeous. it is a saturday night, and for some reason, it is filled and packed with people. perhaps this is how it always is on a saturday night, but it strikes me as odd that there are so many people on a saturday night who seemingly have no other place to go than the library. then again, perhaps all are just looking for a quiet place of solitude, which are indeed hard to come by in hong kong.

sitting on the eight floor, it is a joy watching the victoria park, stretched out from left to right, with the sea behind it, and the towers of tsim sha tsui lined up in the distance. the lights are calm and express a sense of restlessness interspersed with some resignation. cars turn, twist and pass by on the highways below. where do all these people come from? where are they going? what would it be like to live their lives for a day? what is occupying their minds?

i am wearing my headphones, listening to a mix i once made, many years ago, when i was at penn. the playlist is titled “during penn 07″. i remember riding my bicycle through downtown philly, listening to these tracks. i remember it being winter and cold. i remember a girl. i remember being infatuated. i wonder what she is up to these days, where she is, and whether she is happy.

the day came and went. i woke up, with some trepidation went out, since my weather application warned me for a “very hot day with the possibility of heat strokes” and “thunderstorm warnings”. in the end, it wasn’t that bad. i ended up going to a cafe in causeway bay, where i had some tagliatelle bolognese and a cup of tea. i find myself having strange cravings for western food at times. the food here is nice, but like many other facets of society, very homogenous. the different choices offered are in tiny variations of similar objects. so sometimes i plunk money down for a plate of pasta, or a baguette with baked ham and emmentaler.

the library has a solemn and stern air ..

green trees solitary, passing by
quiet, desolate towns
stories, unspoken and untouched
clouds, still, stern and magnificent. looking over us.
blue, endless blue sky
the end of summer
the end of all summers

Who knew that there is this little beach 40 minutes away from where we live? On a strange day where it was over 60 degrees in New England, with a strong wind blowing, the weather was nice, with wind blowing in our hair, with dogs frolicking around, and the setting quiet but not all desolate. Walking on the avenue, we gazed at the boundless sea, fueling our imagination, wondering what was beyond the horizon.

But we digressed – we were in search of world’s end. Turns out we missed one turn, and instead went too far, ending up at the beach instead. Sometimes trivial choices of left-or-right lead you off the original destination, but nevertheless, what this teaches us, I guess, is that life is less about destinations than it is about the journey itself. After a nice walk at the beach, we turned around. We got to world’s end.

Arriving there, we were told by an old lady with a nice yet firm voice that we were really late, that the park was about to close. Whether we still wanted to go in. “Yes, please”. She charged us five instead of the usual ten dollars entrance fee. Wow, a discount at world’s end! And so we went in.

Left or right? What to do? Faced with the choice, we instead decided to opt for neither. We went straight up the hill. Racing b for the top, she suddenly pointed out – there it was – the chair on the top of the hill at the end of the world.

It was about to get dark, the sun was setting. We had to turn back fast and get out before the lady closed the park. But before we went back, we enjoyed a brief moment of bliss, sitting on the chair, together enjoying the marvelous view that I will leave up to your imagination. We capped the night in satisfactory fashion with some good Italian food at North End. Glorious day.