Hong Kong and I had a strange relationship for a long time. I knew the airport better than I knew the city. The wonton noodle soup near the transit hotel. Which immigration queue moves fastest. That kind of familiarity, the kind that isn’t really familiarity at all. For years, it was just a stopover. Sydney to somewhere. I’d seen the surrounding landscape from the windows or the airport to feel like I knew it. But honestly, I didn’t. Until Work Made Me Stay I finally spent some time there. A few days here and there for meetings. Mornings accounted for, the rest loosely mine. It wasn’t a holiday. But it was the first time Hong Kong and I actually had a chance to really experience it. And I loved it. The timing was interesting. A monsoon had been tracking towards the city and it was bracing for it.