Fluffy

Meet Fluffy.

Yes she is a live chicken. And very soft and fluffy.

I found Fluffy sat in Qania's kitchen. I was asked whether I wanted to have her; somehow I don't think that I could bring myself to watch her being slaughtered and then still eat her. Not after we had already named her. Growing up in the UK, I guess it's not really that often that I get to see a sqwaking and moving chicken, besides on a farm. I'm too used to seeing something wrapped up and packaged sitting on the shelf of Tesco.

But in Hong Kong, you can definately choose the chicken that you want and it would be killed and prepared for you straight away. That has never really appealled to me, since the chickens in the market are usually kept in tiny cages and it stinks if you walk anywhere near them. Most certainly not something that I would really choose to buy; I just need to catch a whiff of the smell and it's enough to make me run a mile. 

I've been thinking about Hong Kong these few days. Kinda miss it. Kinda don't. 
There is something about that city that draws people in. 
For me, there's something there that feels like home; so much more than the UK.