The kindness of strangers (part deux)

I've written about this before, but I'm constantly amazed at the kindness of strangers. I'm now an old hand at turning up in a new place and unashamedly using whatever contacts I can muster to meet new people. Hong Kong was no different... I had the name of one girl who invited me to a bbq on a rooftop, literally halfway up a mountain in the New Territories. En route with her and her fiance, we made small talk and chatted about mutual friends, as the KCR cut its way up through rocky ground. A few things in common, we managed to connect our not-so-disparate lives together. An hour's journey and a cab ride later, a fairytale village came into view... a lone pink house, reminiscent of a child's drawing, rose up to greet us, a single vertical window cutting down from the eves with a slither of light. It was cold, but as I shivered and climbed twisty stairs to the sky, I knew it was going to be cool. Over earthy red wine and charred sardines I heard stories of this foreign yet familiar land, inspiration oozing from each word uttered my way. They may not remember me, a girl in a blue shirt and inappropriate shoes, but I'll remember them.