You Must Go Elsewhere For Personal Space

Some quick notes on being in Hong Kong for the first time:

• People here don’t give a fuck about your personal space. I’ve been slammed into by people multiple times because they (1) weren’t looking where they were going and (2) don’t give two fucks that I was in that space. I’m finding it’s a very American thing to want a tiny bubble of space around you at all times.
• Basically everyone speaks some English. It’s turbo easy to get around, all the signs are in English and Cantonese, which is amazing. (Yes, it used to be a British colony, but the signs weren’t always also in English.) I’ve traveled other places (Korea, Italy, Japan, Switzerland) and this is by far the most people I’ve encountered outside of the US speaking English. Which is great because I’m a dumb idiot who doesn’t know the first thing about Cantonese.
• The weather changes all the time. Frustratingly so. You check the weather at 4am, and by 5am a thunderstorm could have rolled in. I grew up in Florida, the wild fucking west of weather, and this has still thrown me for a loop. Oceans, man. They weird.
• The city is like a weird cross between the 80's and omfg-right-now. Huge high end shopping malls dominate anywhere that isn’t filled with tiny mom-and-pop stores that could be right out of a Kurt Russell movie (I’m sure you know which one.)
• Pineapple buns are the best fucking foodstuff under the sun. Seriously. Get one and put that shit in your mouth. The dim sum is the tits, too.