We had a bunch of stuff that we were maybe going to do today, but after a heavy load the previous day, we decided to pare it down a bit. OK a lot. We set out to accomplish one thing: The Peak. This is something that everyone agrees you have to do. With our morning already squandered and a dinner reservation at 7, we set out to summit this bitch. What lay ahead was impossible to know so we did what all endurance climbers do when they’re prepping for a difficult climb, ate burgers and cheese fries and forgot to bring water. We did remember sun screen though so the bucket hat got left in the hotel room. Sorry. A picture of the burgers and fries? Don’t be ridiculous.
We got off the train and followed the signs to the peak tram. We took a wrong turn because someone had done that thing where you push the directional sign so that it points the wrong way. Classic! We got turned back around and made it up to the tram.
There are three ways to board the tram. You can stand in line and buy a ticket for the tram and the Peak Terrace, you can use your octopus card and skip the line, or you can buy a combo ticket that gets you the tram, the sky terrace, AND access to Madame Tussauds wax museum. We waited in line. We didn’t know about the octopus card thing and passed on Madame Tussauds, but the Madame, not wanting us to go completely without, threw us a freebie; a wax Vin Diesel by the tram entrance wishing us well. Merci.
It was a long line, but it gave Joe ample time to craft a few dandies.
“I hope I don’t get sick, I forgot my tramamine.”
“I wonder if they serve food.”
“Yeahhh… what?” I should have known better by the way he set it up, but I was hot and didn’t have it all together.
“You know, I thought they might have some tram sandwiches.”
“I’m surprised they use tickets instead of tram stamps.”
Ok that’s funny.
“Let’s get tattoos of the tram on our lower backs.”
We finally boarded the tram but we got separated and I stood in back while Joe got the last seat at the front of the tram.
The tram made a stop on the mountain because it’s real public transport. When it did, it sprung back and forth on it’s cables like they were rubber bands. It scared some people. Not me though. Then the conductor continued up the mountain.
We arrived at the peak tram station and disembarked directly into a gift shop, followed by a full size shopping mall sitting on top of this mountain. We had to go up four floors of mall to get to the observation deck. By floor three I’d had enough.
“This better let us out somewhere real dope.”
“Yeah, Urban Outfitters.”
We got to the fourth floor and saw signs for the Sky Terrace on L2, but we’d already been up 4 floors.
“So the sky terrace sits on level 2 of the mall that sits on top of the first mall?” I asked.
“It’s malls all the way down.” Joe answered.
Out the window we could see them doing construction on a third mall, or maybe an addition to the existing malls. The last thing we passed before the Sky Terrace was a Bubba Gump Shrimp establishment.
We got out onto the sky terrace 428, so named because it sits 428 meters (1404 ft) above sea level. The view was spectacular but there were a lot of people up there both trying to avoid getting into, and getting into, each other’s selfies and ‘grams.
We took a couple of snaps and got out of there, a little overwhelmed by the sun and malls. We missed the return tram level and had to repeat a couple of floors coming back up. We finally got back to street level and followed the signs for the MTR station. Not kidding the signs had us walk through TWO MALLS to get to the subway. You said it, man. It’s malls all the way down.
We learned our lesson yesterday so once we crossed the peak off our list, we headed back to the hotel for a little lie down. We were going to check out the rooftop pool but we only had 90 minutes before dinner so not a minute could be wasted. We napped until 6:30 and were 10 minutes late for our 7 o’clock rez.
We met Rachael at the Central station and walked to this place she recommended called Tokyo Lima. It was fantastic. Japanese Peruvian small plates with a robust sake menu. After dinner we went to LKF, a place I’d been warned about but not adequately prepared for. It was crazy. I don’t even know what LKF really is, a neighborhood? Streets and stairs going in every direction, multi-level, everything is painted black, and everything is a bar or a club. There were hundreds of people. All kinds of people in the sense that they were of all races, nationalities and sexes and all one kind of people in the sense that they were all drunk. We had been walking for three minutes before we ran into more of Rachael’s friends. A couple from London, an American with a black eye, and a guy in a suit from Northern England who taught us how to say, “You goin’ doon to the toon?” (Down to the town). We went to “Club 7” (7/11) and bought cans of beer and they just drank them on the street while representatives of the entire world got hammered around us. It was great. We stood out there for hours.
When the beers had been drunk, Rachaels friends went to get kebabs.
I was on my last legs so I made everyone go home. Not like, everyone, but Joe and Rachael. I received a fair amount of pushback but I think they’ll thank me the long run. We all got cabs back to our corners.
We did not return to the darts bar that night, but I feel like we may someday.