Here I am now, four months later, trying to remember just how that trip to Hong Kong turned out. All I can remember is that it was my first trip out of the country with someone I was seeing (for real, like a person, this time, and not just a vision in my head -) and for Valentine's weekend too, (not much of a big deal, since I'm not really one to glorify these self proclaimed holidays), and granted that we went and hung out, for the most parts, with his friends as well (who were wonderful by all definition) - and I loved it. Him. It. Okay, let's settle with it.

It was my first time in Hong Kong and the streets felt quite unfamiliar with so many stories and experiences to live up to which, until that weekend, I had only lived vicariously through my friends who indulged in going back and forth for its food, people, culture, party scene, weather and now, understandably so, shopping.

We were able to go through Lan Kwai Fong, a speakeasy bar discovered only with a push of a button in a rather camouflaged wall, small, quaint restaurants hidden in the heart of Sheung Wan, my first time to go to Disneyland (and in all my 21-year-old gloriousness squealed like a little girl and ate too much snacks,) go to the shopping centers and food bazaars, and most importantly, people-watched while roaming its cold, busy streets.