Hong Kong Story

Don’t know why, but it seems that when it comes to massages, spa treatments and any sort of body embellishments, travelling to Hong Kong equals heaven. Not only does the quality of the service excel, but – very importantly – the prices are affordable. That explains why many of us tired, jetlagged Europeans recently arrived on our 5 day business trips, end up looking better than before our flight took off from Heathrow. It’s the magic touch of the HK beauticians.

And this time around, I was not let down. My third trip to HK started like the other previous ones: get on the plane, watch some movie (saw star-packed Bobby), chit chat with the person next to you if they’re nice (she was) and hope to get some sleep in (I hardly did).

The next morning comes with a treat in store. We jump in the cab to go to Central, which is a shopper’s ultimate destination. I am not a keen shopper (it was the mortgage or the clothes…) but I was dead set on at least working with (or against) what nature’s given me. So picture this: a super crowded super narrow market street. Nothing like the welcoming wide aisles of the Istanbul Bazar, for example.

Suddenly you hear a lady in the crowd asking “Manicure for HK$70?” (that’s £5) and the next thing you know, you are entering this council tower- type building, going up the stairs to what may very well be someone’s flat. But there is a good feeling, so what if it’s not The Sanctuary?

Well, there were no incense sticks and waterfalls sounds, but boy were we in for a surprise! As we were going up the stairs to what traditionally should be a tranquil place to sit down and be pampered, we were greeted with a Madonna wannabe belting out I’m Crazy for You on the karaoke machine. They had a karaoke machine in the waiting room, complete with glass disco ball and all.

The place was a flat in which they had turned the tiny entrance hall into an entertainment centre: karaoke, internet connection they had it all. For a second there I contemplated leaving. There is a good reason why I didn’t choose singing as a career and a morning “I Will Survive” sesh was not on my agenda. But I was re-assured I did not have to sing if I did not want to, although they did encourage us to follow the example of a 5 year old who did not shy away from declaring the she, indeed, Will Survive.

I wish I’d taken a photo of the place. Most people working in there were from the Phillippines, so when a Philippino pop song came on, the nostalgia overwhelmed them and you should have heard the collective humming and tapping while they were painting those nails, rubbing those feet and applying the perm solutions….

Surreal! But great fun. I am going to take the idea back to my local manicure place. The ladies there are Korean, maybe they won’t think I’ve lost my mind. Maybe they’ve been to Hong Kong themselves. South London, get ready for this.