To say the conclusion, the driver was going straight toward my destination just as he was supposed to. What Mr. M has told me was wrong. My effort was nothing but pointless. It'd have been much easier if I simply showed him the map and the note with the address from the beginning. Rather than this, it was actually the hotel that was a problem.

To begin with, it was strange from the first time I've heard the name of the hotel. Though I've looked up in various guidebooks, there was no hotel with such name as STB Hotel. Anyhow, it was the first hotel I'd be staying only by myself. Though I've been to Hong Kong few times before, I've always stayed in a well-known hotel. But this time, it was a hotel with a name I've never even heard of. I knew that I wouldn't be staying at a luxury hotel from the first because the report I was doing was on an extremely small budget, but in Hong Kong, there were also a countless number of second-class hotels for group tourists. I've checked out every guidebook from a big-name one to "Chikyuu no Arukikata" as well as a brochure of Hong Kong national tourist bureau, but I couldn't even find a trace of that hotel. In the first place, Yan Ma Tei is like a traditional district (It sounds nice if I call it so, but it's actually quite a dangerous zone) of Hong Kong, and there is almost no hope to be able to find a hotel for tourists there. Getting more and more nervous, I've asked Mr. M about that, and he halfheartedly replied "That hotel may be just opened recently." I was still so na•ve that I believed such an irresponsible remark at that time.

We've arrived at Reclamation Street without difficulty, but the driver was pretty sure that there was no hotel around that area. So I told him exactly what Mr. M has told me; "Well, it's not a good hotel, or it even might be a cheap hotel for poor student travelers. You might not know about it because it's a new hotel." He didn't seem to be convinced, but he kept driving along the street. Then, where he finally stopped the car was in front of YMCA hotel close by. He even strongly insisted that there was absolutely no hotel other than this one around here. But I still said "Well, that's not possible. Please just take me back to the Reclamation Street." After repeated arguments and counter arguments, he finally followed what I've said and turned the car into the street.

As we entered the street, I realized what the driver said was right. The Reclamation Street was merely a scruffy back lane, and there was even no streetlight, not to mention a hotel. In little light, there were few men sitting down on their heels in front of a building with closed shutter. From the suspicious atmosphere they were creating, I was quite certain that they were gambling or doing drugs.

Suddenly, the driver gave a cry and pointed his finger. It was a shabby signboard that looked nothing more than a grubby white board about one meter wide with letters, which seemed to be handwritten, saying STB Hotel. Just as if it were being covered, it was lost among the various signboards sticking out tightly over a street that are peculiar to Hong Kong. No wonder it wasn't in a guidebook. No wonder that the driver didn't know about it. It was a super cheap hotel for backpackers occupying one floor of a tumbledown office block with an elevator that was not even working (It was about 500yen for a night if I remember right). I felt extremely out of place to be setting foot in such place with my Samsonite suitcase.

Since it was such a poor hotel, I wasn't sure if a reservation has actually been made, but I gave my name at the front desk. A man who spoke English with a strong Chinese accent, without even saying "Welcome" or "We're glad to have you," took out a blanket from the bottom of counter, and handed it to me brusquely as pointing his finger at the room I'd be staying.

As I followed the direction in which he pointed, there was a dormitory crowded with double-deck beds that looked like a shelf to rear silkworms. Feeling as if I were having a nightmare, I just stood there blankly without moving. That was how my memorable first day of the trip has started.

Translated by Maiko Noda