This last month has been one of the coldest that Hong Kong has had on record. Two weeks ago "frost chasers" scurried up the tallest peaks in the country parks in the hopes of catching a single snowflake or shimmering icicles on the underbrush.
Despite injuries, thankfully no one was killed in the cold weather pursuits, but I dare say spraying cold ground with cold water wasn't the most brilliant move by the rescuers, who are more accustomed to extreme heat than cold. (I'm not joking, scroll to the bottom to see the genius in action).
While I wasn't chasing frost (I grew up with enough of it to last a lifetime), I was planning to go camping and sleep outside that weekend. Thankfully we decided against the sleeping outside bit and rented a beachside apartment on a nearby Hong Kong island.
Despite all of the blizzards and wind storms I experienced on the prairie, it was nothing compared to the 30-hour gale on the beach. We attempted a hike, but gave in after a half hour of being sand-blasted on the beach. That night, the wind was relentless--even shaking the apartment with some gusts. Potted plants on the patio tipped over and cracked, some awnings were torn, and loads of branches fell from the trees.
The actual-freezing temperature was brief, but the wet chill in the air has persisted. The slate tiles of my apartment floor and the less-than-radiant heat from my radiator heater make it next to impossible to crawl out of my flannel sheets (best Christmas gift EVER) in the morning.
Outside, the temperatures aren't so bad. With a jacket and scarf, it's totally manageable. The challenge comes with warming up as the insides of buildings are either the same temperature or colder than outside. Suddenly sunny and 55 feels like a refrigerator.
People walk around in gigantic parkas, usually reserved for legitimate sub-zero temps. I manage in a fall jacket, but indoors I'm running out of appropriate winter clothing to wear to work. Most of my bulky sweaters I left back in the US.
I'm going on the record and saying that I can't wait for summer. Steamy, hot, raining, mildewy summer. In my inexperienced mind, summer is setup to be one nonstop hot yoga class. Anytime I say that out loud, I'm warned to be careful what I wish for. Apparently summers here are brutal, but at this point, I'm ready for the fridge chill to leave my apartment.