This weekend I took a brief little trip back to Hong Kong. There’s no arguing with the fact that it’s one of the best places in the world in which to pass your time. Flying through the clouds and seeing Big Buddha perched on top of the mountain filled me with that warm feeling you get when you finally get home after an extensive period away. It was amazing to be walking through the skyscraper lined streets without second guessing about which road to take or where to eat or which MTRline to get on- it’s nice to know where you’re going sometimes. It felt comfortable. And of course it was amazing to be able to go back and get my hike on in gorgeous January weather with friends. (I do not miss English winters.)

All that being said, and it’s a terribly cliched sentence for me to say, it’s true what Thoreau said about things changing – they don’t, but we do. Hong Kong has that same buzz and charm that it always did, and no doubt always will have, but four months down the line it doesn’t feel like it fits me quite as well. I sat on the steps of Gough Street on a Saturday night with friends munching on egg waffles and dwarfed by skyscrapers and couldn’t help but feel like leaving Hong Kong was the right decision. Yes, it was the best year of my life, I met beautiful people and did amazing things, but I’m glad I took  the initiative to move on. I just think, that as marvelous as it is, there’s no more growing left to be done there for me. Like any home, eventually you have to fly the nest and work on building your dreams with a new view outside of your bedroom window, and like any home, going back will always fill you with that warm comfort that you need every now and again.

 

 

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