Between Red Taxis and Typhoon Signal No. 8, Returning to Hong Kong Alone

As soon as the holidays began, I impulsively booked a plane ticket. A solo trip to Hong Kong, embarked upon with the intention of wandering completely at my own pace. Arriving at the airport and taking a seat at the very front of the double-decker bus heading to the city center, the night city landscape stretched out distantly outside the window. Just as yellow cabs are the face of New York, the red taxis passing by on Hong Kong's roads fully evoke its unique analog sentiment. The streets, where I arrived well past 11:00 PM, were wrapped in silence. On the first night, arriving so late in the pitch black, there wasn't much to do, but just quietly feeling the breath of a foreign city center in the cool night air was more than enough.

The streets of Sheung Wan, where my accommodation was located, were quiet as it was the middle of the night. The headlights of a red taxi smoothly passing in front of the historic Western Market building faintly lit up the pavement. The night view, created by a green minibus quietly stopped by the roadside and the towering residential-commercial complexes rising endlessly behind it, was quintessentially Hong Kong. Without any particular destination, I walked slowly through the empty night streets, taking in the lingering image of the red taxi.

I wrapped up my day looking at the windows of tall apartment buildings where lights were turning off one by one. It was fascinating to see how the streets, which must have been bustling with countless people and cars during the day, became this calm at night.

The next morning, as soon as I opened my eyes, a wave of intense hunger hit me. It was only natural, since the in-flight meal on the plane the night before was all I had eaten. Following the rain-slicked pavements, I went out to look for a restaurant for breakfast. I spotted 'Dragon State Kitchen Restaurant', a highly-rated local spot nearby, and walked in without hesitation. Seeing the neatly hung roasted ducks and pork through the show window made my mouth water.

After sitting down, I ordered a half-duck, half-pork barbecue rice plate and a cold Coca-Cola. A moment later, the plate arrived with a generous portion of meat featuring an alluring, crispy golden skin on top of white rice. Taking a bite, the skin shattered crisply like a cracker and the meat inside was filled with tender juices. Splashing a bit of the sour and spicy special sauce from the table made the savory flavor stand out even more. It was a perfect and satisfying meal for breakfast.

Memories Embedded in Every Alley and an Unexpected Wind

With a full stomach, I slowly made my way toward Central. Standing in front of the long staircase of Tai Kwun, a cultural complex with impressive red bricks and temple-style pillars, long-forgotten memories faintly drifted back. "During my first trip to Hong Kong, my friend took such pretty pictures of me on these stairs." Back then, I also had a friend who would roam the energetic nightlife of Lan Kwai Fong with me every evening. Time has passed, those friends have all gotten married and had children, and here I was, still standing here alone. A strange mix of emotions washed over me, but the sense of freedom that comes with solo solitude was also quite wonderful.

Walking along Hollywood Road and around the Mid-Levels Escalators in Soho, the warm street scene caught my eye. In front of Bakehouse, people holding yellow and red umbrellas stood in a long line following the savory smell of bread, while a familiar red taxi swept past. Taking in this very Hong Kong slice of daily life, I strolled through the alleys as the rain grew slightly heavier.

On the uphill paths of Soho, charming shops and mural streets continued for a long stretch. Sensual shops and the Brooklyn Bar building, its entire exterior wall filled with colorful graffiti, stopped pedestrians in their tracks. The pavement reflecting the damp rain blended with the colors of the murals, creating a picturesque atmosphere.

A Still City, the Silence Encountered in Mong Kok

Around lunchtime, I headed to the shopping mall 'THE FOREST' in Mong Kok to visit a shoe store. Salomon shoes were very difficult to find in Korea at the time, so I reached the mall entrance with high expectations. However, the moment I stepped inside, I witnessed a bizarre scene where the outdoor escalators were forced to stop and shops that had just opened were hurriedly pulling down their shutters.

An information sign posted at the entrance clearly read 'Typhoon Signal No. 8 is Hoisted.' A Typhoon Signal No. 8, which is just one level below the highest Level 9, had been issued. In Hong Kong, when Signal No. 8 is hoisted, public transportation stops completely and shops must close early. A laugh slipped out at this completely unexpected situation where even buses and taxis couldn't run and even the escalators had stopped.

Stepping out onto the street, Portland Street in Mong Kok, which is usually packed with crowds of people, was unbelievably empty. In the quietness where people walking on the street and the sounds of cars had disappeared, only the numerous high-rise apartment complexes painted in pastel tones silently kept their place. Although I couldn't buy the shoes I wanted, thanks to the typhoon, I witnessed a unique side of a 'silent Hong Kong' that not many get to see. Thinking that embracing unexpected variables flexibly is the true charm of traveling alone, I walked leisurely through the quiet streets.