i love heung gong again

Someone asked me, after the trip, "Wah, Four Seasons ah! How was it?" My blase reply, "Okay lor." Even a room with a gorgeous view of the harbour, bathroom with scrumptious L'Occitane toiletries and long bath with mini TV cannot match up to the Bvlgari resort. I'm ruined for life. (Take note of the squat white rectangle building almost right smack in the middle of the photo.)


Before.


After.


The luxury brand which shall not be named -- no need to give it more publicity, it's already very well known -- wined and dined us. Even the napkins and plates were emblazoned with its name and monogram.


By the end of the four-course dinner, the poor goldfish in the flower arrangement were gasping for breath at water's the surface.


We had to take part in a luxury version of The Amazing Race. One leg of it saw us sailing on a reproduction of an antique Chinese junk while sipping cocktails and having foot massages. By the way, the winning team of 10 journos from Taiwan walked away with a huge monogram bag each (estimated eBay value at over S$5,000).


We also had to go to a temple -- the name eludes me, Mo Wan or something, we cheated and eavesdropped on another team to get there -- where an ang moh woman demonstrated the art of breaking spears with her neck, like some Shaolin monk. Very incongruous.


The last stop of the race was a private champagne room where we guzzled Krug. We were supposed to taste how well it went with foie gras and caviar and Alaskan crab, but frankly, I was too hungry by then to appreciate the nuances. Although I did notice that the light fixture was made up of bowls and plates.


Four days in Hong Kong and the only local food I had was wanton noodles. And we had to sneak off from the launch party -- with its free flow of champagne and non-filling canapes -- to get to Tsui Wah for it.


What I was in Hong Kong for. Obligatory shot of the newly-opened store.


The store is so humongous -- biggest in Asia wor, second only to the one in Paris -- that it has its own art gallery. Yes, that's Gong Li, as shot by Chow Yun Fat, as shot by me.


For the entire trip, I kept seeing this pixie-like China journo with adorable hairbands and various cute outfits. Finally, I plucked up the courage to ask for a pix of her hair. Wonder if I can carry it off. Oh, and notice that giraffe-like model in the background? She's from Slovakia and she had just turned 15 the week before. She looks double her age.


Remember that white rectangle? It's this mammoth tent built like a trunk for the gala party.


Sorry, my lurve, this is the best pix I could manage of your hero Kanye West. In my defence, I was balancing on a wobbly stool at the end of the tent in three-inch heels with Dick Lee and boyfriend jostling behind me on the same stool.


One last gratuitous shot. For more shameless shots of me and my various outfits, check out the Swirl Girls blog.