Living in Hong Kong makes London seem boring

Like countless others before me, I also fell for the charm of the fun-radiating picture of a bunch of leaping exchange students in the Study Abroad Office (don’t tell me you haven’t seen one, I know you have) and decided to swap the view from the Waterloo Bridge for the skyscraper panorama of Hong Kong for a while.

Boarding the 12-hour flight to my new life, equipped with two pocket travel guides and Mandarin False Beginner level, I felt almost overprepared for my very first rendezvous with Asia. Little did I know I was about to suffer the largest culture shock yet.

It had nothing to do with chicken feet.

London put in a perspective

Raised by the Wednesday beats in Walkabout, schooled by the last Friday of the month tunes in Waterfront, we “Londoners” were ready to disdain the supposedly pitiful parody of nightlife in Hong Kong.

Since we managed to get ourselves two cheap bottles euphemistically titled “King  Robert”, some delicious dim sums and no turista (so far so good), we were righteously feeling very local straight away.  After having the time of our immature lives ordering coke in a local restaurant (“Hot cock or cold cock for you, miss?”), we cheerfully set off on our first adventurous night out.

What was initially intended as a chill stroll through the streets of Wan Chai soon turned into a struggle for air in crowds that had evidently mistaken an ordinary Tuesday night for the Chinese New Year. Two weeks, five pre-drinks, ten parties, four late night pig-outs in Maccy D’s and way too much gin and tonic later, the time has come to reflect upon what we once called “social life” in London.

Menu at Mr Wong. I will please have the third cartoon, thank you

The clubs in Lan Kwai Fong would obviously fail the ultimate British test of a good night out – not once did they play Mr. Brightside. On the other hand, from a rooftop overlooking one of the most densely populated places on earth, you can easily score your best snapchat story yet.

When the evil DJ suddenly decides to go with Adele and all the newborn love birds start constructing an insuperable makeout barricade in the middle of the dance floor, you can always opt for some pork and deep fried rice two blocks away in a nonstop place set up in someone’s living room.

Our former social lives were a bad joke (Internation Student Network Welcome Party)

Since you definitely should not be eating fried stuff at this time or, for that matter, anytime ever, it obviously tastes like heaven melting in your mouth. You have a good laugh about how you kinda used to miss London when you first arrived. Not anymore you don’t.

That is, until your friends from King’s send you a picture of Waterfront curly fries. Hong Kong may be the ultimate party zone in the eastern hemisphere but, damn, there’s no place like Waterfront… I mean home.