and everything is beautiful

I’ve never been much of a window seat person in planes. I’ve always preferred the aisle where you can easily get up to stretch your legs. But this time, as the plane descended over the Hong Kong islands, I edged closer to the window. Below green mountains emerged from the ocean, their peaks uninterrupted by development. Like stalactites at the bottom of cave, skyscrapers covered the coast lines, providing no transition from the greenery. On the horizon, the giant fireball stared at its reflection in the rippling waves.

If you took Times Square and stretched it out over downtown Manhattan, it would look like Causeway Bay, the area where my youth hostel is located.

The remnants of colonialism still linger in the city; western toilets, driving on the left, double decker buses, the name Victoria, English language, and cultural aspects as well (such as queuing). The blending of west and east is subtle and harmonious. It provides for the perfect transition in my journey from New York to Beijing.