this caused quite the stir amongst locals (TheBlackoutBlog Does Asia: Day 7)

The efficiency of Hong Kong International’s immigration lines was just the welcome I was looking for (I mean, if I couldn’t have an Ambassador’s escort). I had to change my mental currency converter from ~40 to ~7 when I got to the ATM, which made the compulsory HK$100 train ticket that much harder to pay.

The express airport train is almost like the LIRR: comfortable, smooth and quiet. There were even volume controls for the announcement speakers in your headrest. And in about 25 minutes, I was hauling my carry-ons through the middle of some mall (Hong Kong has this thing with transit hubs inside malls) trying to figure out which way was south. Of course, the girl at the mall concierge didn’t know Wellington (a pretty major street in Central), so I had to GPS it and pray I wasn’t exceeding the data allotment I’d pre-paid AT&T for.

Turns out, since Hong Kong is built on a hill (something I didn’t know about until someone in the Philippines told me), they have this long outdoor escalator that basically takes you from the Harbour all the way through the most central parts of town. It’s about 800m (~.5 miles) long and goes about 135m (~450ft) high. As prominent a feature as it is for orienting oneself in Central, it’s easy to miss on Google Maps. My hotel was a minute walk from it.

Ah, the Butterfly on Wellington! I have to say, I highly recommend this boutique hotel. Nicely appointed rooms, attentive staff, very nice bathrooms, comfy beds (well, I only tried one, but still). The price for the cheapest room was significantly more than I wanted to pay (especially when they tack on the 10% service charge, which they also do at restaurants), but the location was unbeatable. Though the rooms were noticeably smaller than American rooms, I’d definitely (save up and) stay there again.

nothing to see here... just another Central HK display window.

GodSwilla (because you should see him swill that white wine… and I know that’s Japanese, but culturally appropriate pseudonyms are few and far between here) was a guy that I’d met somehow in NYC and Fire Island just before his job moved him to Hong Kong. White guy, 40s, loves Asians. He’d actually offered to let me crash with him, but I have this thing about having a full experience when I pay to go to an unfamiliar country. And when I don’t have daily maid service, chefs, drivers and the lot, it just doesn’t make sense for me to tip-toe around someone else’s home (but if I ever go back, I may ask to crash for a night or two to save some cash).

I called GodSwilla as soon as I got to my hotel, and he immediately invited me over to his apartment for dinner, offering to bbq on his roof and show me a couple of bars. I had just enough time to freshen up, grab a snack and take a disco nap.

Now, MicHELLe and her bf had just been to Hong Kong the week before, and they warned me that the bar scene was dead on weeknights. Like crickets. GodSwilla confirmed their observation, blaming it on the “horrible work-life balance.” In a city where the government had just switched to a 5-day workweek (from 6) in 2006, this wasn’t much of a surprise.

Also, when I was researching nightlife, I swore that I must have missed something. Surely a city as populous as Hong Kong had to have more gay bars/clubs than, say Philadelphia. But when GodSwilla brought up the Chinese aversion to Gay, it made sense that the scene was so small.

“So really, Ex-pats and foreigners make up, what, 5% of the population. And 8% of that population is gay. And then that part of the population that has any interest in the bar scene. Doesn’t make for a lot of demand.”

a hotel that rents rooms by the hour in Central

Other things I learned from GodSwilla:

            • Locals get clingy quickly, and they talk amongst each other a lot (sounds like Chelsea).

            • 7-11s don’t take credit cards, but the do sell hard liquor.

            • Apps like Grindr, Jack’d and Hornet will take you a long way.

            • It’s common for younger Chinese guys to live with their parents, so having my own hotel room could be a major advantage.

            • The saunas (Him: “They aren’t as sketchy as the NYC ones.”) are more of an after-work scene (Me: “So they can jerk off and go home to their wives, huh?”).

            • Everything (business cards, credit cards, receipts, etc) is presented with two hands and a slight nod as a sign of courtesy.

Not realizing that GodSwilla was a wino, I’d brought him a bottle of lemon-flavored Belvedere. By the time he was making me a to-go drink in a jam jar (you can do that there), I’d made quite a dent in it by myself.

We strolled down to Time, a tiny gay bar that seemed to be quite happening. What I didn’t realize until later is that they gave away vodka during happy hour every Wednesday night. We’d just missed it!

By the time we made our way down to Volume (or is it Volume: Beat?) GodSwilla had been chatting up Mr. Gay Hong Kong 2010 for a good half hour. Luckily, he was headed our way, too. Apparently, the first Mr. Gay Hong Kong (a year prior to this one’s crowning) was a white Disney performer, and this caused quite the stir amongst locals.

the mirror on the way down the hill in an alley where everybody checks themselves out, apparently...

Volume was hosting their Wednesday night Newcomers party, and the scene was far from dead. I spent way too much time talking to an Aussie guy before realizing that he had probably come (and would probably leave) with the cute Asian guy on my other side who was paying no attention to me. GodSwilla, who had given up on Mr. Gay HK, made me go to the DJ booth and request “Teach Me How to Dougie” (we were talking about how it was the song I heard most in the Philippines... Joel Cruz's staff's attempts at Dougie-ing were fucking priceless!). The stand-in DJ, one of the owners of the bar, didn’t have the song, but he offered to play it or any other songs I wanted to hear off my iPhone. I wasn’t sure if that offer was part of his flirting game, but I definitely gave him the you’re-handsome-and-I-like-older-guys smile.

That night, I got home and tried out all my gay iPhone apps as well as a new site GodSwilla had told me about: Mancrunch (tag line: hooking up tempting twinks with successful daddies).

I did not sign onto Manhunt because when I tried to switch my profile to Hong Kong, it told me I needed a premium account. Now, last time I did a premium account, I was in Australia, and I actually got more than 10 messages/day (a lot more), so it made sense to buy a 7-day membership. I was prepared to do the same in Hong Kong if it got to that point, but requiring payment without even getting a sense for the scene? No thanks!

Oh, and did I mention that it was also around lunchtime in the US when I got home from Volume, which was a rather perfect time to check/update Facebook? Yeah.


Click here to check out Asia Day 6 (which involved me in a Filipino strip club). 


Click here to check out Asia Day 8.


Click here to check out outrageous Grindr convos from my trip to Australia.