Hong Kong
The city is a swirl of colours.
It is a symphony of sounds.
A different scent with every breath you take.
The air is cold, so cold that it bites deep into your bones. It is inevitable that your nose clogs up and bits of white flakes form on your skin. Cracks run down your palms like that of a hard and dry desert ground.
The city is a swirl of colours:
In the day, the neon lights glow ceaselessly. At night, they are blinding – a stark contrast to the pitch black backdrop. Looking up, billboards and gigantic signboards hang haphazardly from above, all vying for the attention of passer-bys who are too busy to give them a second glance. In comparison, the signboards and advertisements of local shops seem tacky, as they sit side by side with the names of global corporations with their slick and sophisticated advertisements. Blocks of paint-peeling, grimy walls juxtapose against towers of shiny glass surfaces that reflect the sunlight, the throngs of pedestrians and vehicles zipping by.
It is a symphony of sounds:
A zealous shop vendor beckons you. His voice rises above the smattering of Cantonese, spoken by the lady in smart office attire who walks by briskly. The beeping of the traffic light intensifies and the clicking of your boots on the concrete sidewalk quickens.
A different scent with every breath you take:
Thick exhaust fumes and the fragrance of sizzling claypot rice from road-side stalls fuse together. It is just one of the many combinations of the startling smells that waft up your nose.
It is jam-packed everywhere - from the open boulevards to the narrow streets of the night markets.
The city is a swirl of colours.
It is a symphony of sounds.
A different scent with every breath you take.
Posted by quirkyditz at 9:28 pm
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