it's called traveler amnesia

 I love to travel. I love going somewhere new--whether it's 20 minutes or 2000 miles away. With my uncanny ability to forget uncomfortable moments, my family is doomed to unknown anxiety as I drag them across the world.

Up to this point our HK trip had been ideal. We enjoyed a bit of America at Disneyland, we'd been to the beach and seen a lot of butterflies on the Dragon's Back. By day three, I was anxious to throw ourselves into the city of Hong Kong. The city neither the Chinese nor British could bring themselves to part with.

I can sum up the day by telling you we started it in smiles, as we rode the tram up to Victoria Peak and ended it with tears, after the train home took an unexpected sharp turn and the stroller, with E in it, went flying. She cried, Vi, the sympathetic crier, cried louder, and after looking around the crowded, rush hour train and seeing every person stealing disdainful glances at the girls and me, I too wanted to cry. We got off at the stop closest to our hotel and spent the next hour, trying to convince a taxi to pick us up. Three-fourths of our family alternating crying shifts.

I may have mentioned to Rocky as we waiting in the 30 person long taxi queue (the reason no taxis we hailed would stop), "Next time I try and plan a vacation, remind me of this night." The anxiety is dimming with time and I've already logged it away in my 'horrible, yet funny traveling stories' right behind the time we made an emergency pee stop for E, right over a grate in an alley somewhere in Italy.

Too bad, Rocky, I already think that night is hilarious.

The tram runs 1.4 kilometers and climbs 400 meters. It began running in 1888.

E was just stoked we weren't doing her least favorite past time, hiking. Now I guess she can stop complaining that there are no places around to use her "climbing shoes" (her shoes that aren't crocs).  

 The views were spectacular. 

 I told E to make the face of the lion. Borderline culturally offensive?

Thanks to serious of conflicting directions, we went up these street twice, only to find our desired location down below.

Bangkok is, quite possibly, the flattest city in the world. HK has some steep streets. Coming from Utah, we openly wondered what would happen if this city ever got snow. 

 Vi, clearly the Chinese food enthusiast, chose this trip as her time to go on baby food strike. Don't worry the conditions were always sanitary. Really. 

 We went to a night market, outside the Jade Market, only to realize we live in Bangkok and it itself is a giant night market.

 My cousin, Anne, who is teaching English in Taiwan met us while she was on a Visa run. She brought her friend, Joann. Joann had done her research and knew all the best, most famous restaurants.

 Vi enjoying a traditional Hong Kong dessert--black beans and cream. We were too busy enjoying the traditional (as in we traditionally never pass up an opportunity to buy) gummy candy assortment bought off the street--I told you we're high brow travelers.

 Hong Kong at night really is amazing--also amazing, the prevalence of 7-11s. 

Our stroller wouldn't fit through some of the train turnstiles. Don't worry, I always stayed back and helped Rocky. I would never leave him behind to slide the train card himself and hurry through before it locked again, just so I could get a picture. Also, Violet is perfectly safe. 

So yes, I suffer from the disease of Travelers' Amnesia. And by "I suffer" I mean everyone around me suffers. (Or becomes more culturally well rounded and better able to deal with the unexpected.)