Back in Beijing, biatches!*

I’m in Beijing! While that sentence may not be deserving of an exclamation mark in its own right, the fact that I no longer live in Hong Kong does, and that’s what the sentence implies.

I left my home for the last year yesterday, and though I hadn’t even begun packing before I ought to head to the airport, everything went surprisingly smooth. It still amazes me that I can wake up one morning and be living in Hong Kong, and then less than 10 hours later I go to bed in Beijing, having uprooted my life and sorted it in two smallish suitcases.

It’s my fourth or fifth time in Beijing, and the city is a lot different – and a lot more pleasant – in summer. The fading autumn light that made the city seem old and sad in October has been replaced with bright summer sunshine, the chilling winds of winter have turned into a welcome breeze breaking the heat, and the pollution I experienced when visiting earlier this spring is not nearly as bad now (though I’m sure that’ll deteriorate while I’m here).

I’ll be in town for two and a half week, working for Time and studying a crash course on Chinese foreign policy at Peking University. I’ve already studied a similar course at HKU, but I’m sure it’ll be interesting (apart from the fact that it starts at 8.30 and the university is one and a half hour away from the place that I’m staying).

But that’s tomorrow, for now I’m gonna concentrate on my coffee and reading books about booze and good times (Sideways, as good as the movie).

*Sorry, Caroline, I know you don’t approve of my swearing

Up all night to the sun (yes, any headline with a reference to Get Lucky is a good one)

Sunrise in Hong Kong is probably one of my favorite things in this little world of ours.

Another day, another hangover, another headache.

Having classes in the evening with people that you like is apparently the recipe for fun nights and miserable mornings. I’ve had my share of both since arriving in Hong Kong a little over a week ago.

We went down to the water once again and sat there gazing at the skyline and drinking wine while discussing politics. Politics, politics, politics. I do realize that it doesn’t sound like a lot of fun, but it really is. To us, at least. Which is why I didn’t get home before the sun started rising behind the skyscrapers and which is why my head is hurting and working ever so slooowly right now. That’s what I hate the most about hangovers, the slow thinking.

Today will be all work and no fun. I’m putting the final touches on the newsletter about American politics I’m editing (and writing) and then I need to hand in an assignment to my business journalism professor and prepare for a marathon day at the university tomorrow where we’re doing a simulation of the UN security council talks on Syria. But first I’m having lunch at a vegeterian restaurant with a new girlfriend. We’ll probably talk about politics too.

Checking in

Another picture of the view from my apartment. No, I’ll never grow tired of it, but people who follow me here or on Instagram might…

Just a little post to let you all know that I’m still alive and still in love. For everyday that passes I love Hong Kong and the life I’m living here just a little bit more. My heart will be huge when I leave.

I’m sitting at Oolaa one again, one of these cafes where the youth lounges around with MacBooks in their laps for hours on end, sipping peppermint tea and pretending to be working. I was driven from my apartment by the heat, the AC in my room doesn’t seem to be working and you can only take so many cold showers in a day before you realize that you’re not getting any work done. I was also forced to leave the apartment because we have a house guest, a very nice shamanist teacher, who’s got more questions than I’ve got answers (about stuff like water heaters and AC and how to get around in Hong Kong and other stuff I’m very ignorant about) and time.  Luckily there are plenty of places like Oolaa in my neighborhood, and I actually enjoy working and reading in the noise of cafe.

I’ll have to stop writing and start reading soon, I have a class today with Dr. Fung, on whom I have a major girl crush (and I’m really not into girls, she’s just the most amazing professor on earth, I’ll have to write a post on her awesomeness one day), and I really want to do well in class. It’s so inspiring to have professors like that. And fellow students like the consular general of Spain. Did I mention that I love my life here in Hong Kong?

OK, back to work, I’ll be back with a more inspiring post later, if something fun doesn’t come in the way, at least. It usually does.

Flying high and feeling at home in Hong Kong

I was sitting on the pier by the harbor, a bottle of bad white wine in my hand and a rush of happiness in my head, when the feeling struck me. I shook my head, took a sip of wine, gazed at the skyscrapers in front and behind of me and returned my attention to the discussion we we’re having about life and politics somewhere in the world, but it didn’t help. It was still there.

I felt at home.

It came as a surprise to me, but then most good things do. It was way past midnight and I was sitting in a a foreign city on a distant continent with no idea how to get home, surrounded by four brilliant young people, all of whom had been strangers to me just a couple of days ago. Yet still I felt more in place than I’ve ever done in Denmark. The itch of wanderlust had stopped scratching.

We’d been walking, laughing and drinking or way through town, from a cocktail bar in a colonial building in Wan Chai to the noisy streets of Lan Kwai Fong, before deciding on escaping the crazy bar scene. We bought some beer and wine in the closest 7/11 and headed down to the waterside.

The night may have been fueled by wine and beers and cocktails, but what drove us through town that night, last night, was the sweet and sudden surprise of stumbling over the kindred spirits we’d all given up on finding. But there they were, discussing international affairs and House of Cards and what the world should do in Syria, with a zealous dedication that reverberated with me and my silly love for all things global.

“This is cool”, Daniel, a Norwegian guy with a focus on Asian affairs but a secret crush on the Middle East, said.

“I can talk about Syria for hours and you don’t even yawn or tell me to shut up”.

We all laughed and silently agreed. As we walked back to the city centre to catch a cab and some much needed hours of sleep, I noticed that foreign feeling of belonging once again. The second revelation was even more shocking than the first. I feel at home, and I might just have to get used to it.

Hong Kong, baby!

The beautiful view from my bedroom on a rainy day

I know it’s not a very original beginning, but here it is: I don’t know where to begin. It’s been an eternity since I last blogged, and so much has happened since then, and I just don’t think I can deal with it yet. I can’t write about it yet, that’s for sure. So let’s just say that it was the best of times and the worst of times – it truly was – and skip to where I am now. You might have guessed it from the title of this post.

I’m in Hong Kong. I live in Hong Kong, actually, I’ve lived here for three days and I’m already head over heels in love with the city. My city. I think I’m going to feel at home here. Of course that doesn’t mean that I’ll stay, I never do, after all. But I’m here right now and I’ll be here for close to a year and I’m way more excited about that than you might think after reading this semi-depressed post and looking at that grey picture.

The thing is that it’s raining, it’s been raining for days, and I’m sitting at Oola, one of the countless chic expat cafés in the neighborhood I live in, and they’re playing rainy-weather-music and I’m jetlagged and it all makes me feel a little sentimental. In other words it’s a perfect rainy day, one of those begging for a little sadness and a lot of sentimentalism, and I’ve never been one to fight that. 

I’m actually supposed to be reading right now (I have a feeling I’ll say that line a lot of times during the next couple of months), but I thought I’d revive the blog, partly because my mother wants me to, partly because I miss writing random stuff (mission completed…), and partly because this city begs to be blogged about. And I miss a place to share the photos I can’t help taking in this little town of mine. So here we go, I’m blogging again, let’s see how it goes.