最後一次看鐘，當時是凌晨4時16分。我沒法入睡，怕錯過了調較至4時45分響起的鬧鐘。老實說，我想過放棄。這種天氣，要離開高床軟枕和開着暖氣的房間可不容易。但我跟自己許下過諾言。我快快離開被窩，穿上保暖內衣、深藍色棉質上衣和拉鏈緊緊拉至下頷的羽絨背心外套，下身則穿上衣櫃裡最厚的一條瑜伽褲和最厚的襪子。沒能多花時間煮平常喝的意式咖啡，我沖了一杯便宜的即溶咖啡，吃了一片塗滿榛子朱古力醬的吐司。我可需要多點糖分。
世界仍在熟睡，大堂的保安員亦然。穿上了球鞋，揹上昨晚準備好的背包，我踏出了大廈。我做到了。空氣清冷，我把雙手收在背心的側口袋裡，開始登山去。孑然一人，我在漆黑中走着熟悉的路，這段山路我數不清走過多少次，然而，在這時份、一個人，還是第一次，也沒有害怕。偶而葉子颯颯，人倒會緊張起來，畢竟這裡住了不少野豬，我曾經見過野豬媽媽領着六隻小豬，列隊成一行，在家隨近覓食。
明月引路，樹梢蒙上道道銀光，我沒用頭燈也能清楚看路。走到分岔口的告示板，我停下腳步。一般的郊野公園告示版會放上地圖，這裡卻是一對對聯和以黑色箱頭筆畫的塗鴉。那位寫對聯的人不時換上新作品，每次經過我總會停下來看看，當我來到半路的公園，一對情侶正要調頭離開 ——前往目的地的入口有隻小牛般大的野豬。有位老先生前來，離野豬一段距離用力跺腳和吐口水，想嚇退野豬。野豬嚎叫，狀似準備好迎戰老先生，最後卻退到草叢裡去。我往前走，和老先生對上了一眼，野豬不見了。我從背包拿出頭燈開着，照遍了草叢卻不見其身影，也聽不到其聲音。明明知道就在那裡，就在那不遠處、那黑暗之中，卻沒法看見，這才讓人害怕吧。
我在入口躊躇了好幾分鐘，最終還是鼓起勇起走進暗黑之中，進入月光照不到的樹之隧道裡。完全的黑暗，人不難想像當中的危險。但我選擇了走這段路，我得把路走完，儘管前路一遍漆黑，儘管我獨自一人。在樹之隧道裡光都給擋在外，一盞小頭燈也幫不上多少。我半跑半走，想盡快離開隧道，腳步也用盡力的踏，希望聲音會嚇怕野外動物不要過來。也許在這野外卻幽閉黑暗的地方，感到害怕的只有我一人吧。不知走了多久，我走出了隧道，來到月下的一片空地和樓梯口。只花了40分鐘便從家裡走到山頂，比上一次快得多，是我低估了寒冷和恐懼帶來的動力吧。
寒風呼嘯，若果眼角有淚水的話， 也會瞬間吹散，了無痕跡，猶如不曾出現。
我越過圍欄離開水泥路，往下走在嶙峋小徑。我沒有往我們看日落的山崖處走，在東邊和西邊之間找了個地方坐下。不是看日出的最佳地點吧，可是這裡遠離了其他的行山客。牙關直發打震，身體也在顫抖，我拿出背包裡的風衣穿上，喝了口保溫杯裡的暖水。我應該帶上冷帽和圍巾。
在東邊的天空有顆星星份外明亮偌大，在太陽將會冒起的上空一閃一閃的眨着。天空深邃遼闊，而那顆星耀眼得叫人目不轉睛。我在想着那顆星在多少光年以外，又花了多少時間才讓我們的眼睛看見它。遙遠而美麗的事情總是浪漫。目光留在那顆星上，猶如能使人忘掉徹骨的凍。
時間在靜止無息中流逝，漆黑的東邊天際漸漸染上一道深藍與紫霞。光未及之處，那顆星還在閃爍着。西邊掛着明月，東邊冒着醒來的太陽，我就在日與夜之間。日與夜，對立的概念、背馳的現象，就在我眼前。第一次看見這景象是在倫敦回香港的飛機上。不論喝了多少杯香檳，我在飛機上總沒法睡覺。在我看着第四套電影時，一道強光讓我往窗外望去。我把窗門往上推，看見如火的天際和如海的深藍在交織。就在雲端上、在一切事情之上，日與夜是如此會面。
在除夕當天，我回家了。我慶幸我回家了。我們在小輪上看了那年最後的一個日落，在海傍散步、誤入了前往倒數派對的人群裡、亂入了一家韓國餐廳，我點了海鮮煎餅，你點了燉牛肋骨和燒酒。一切都沒有事先安排，我喜歡如此度過年末的最後時刻。
多少年過去了，現在看着這年的第一個日出，我沒有如其他人般興奮。事實上，日出日落，月升月沒，這恆久不變的事實讓我感到很安心。生命太多無法掌握的事，然而還有日出月沒，對不？世事無常，太陽卻會如常升起。
It was 4.16am when I last checked the time. I struggled to fall asleep, for I was afraid of missing the alarm clock set to 4.45am. Not going to lie, I thought of giving up. Leaving a warm bed, a cloud-like duvet and a room warmed thoroughly by the heater wasn’t the easiest decision to make in this kind of weather. But I made a promise to myself. Swiftly slipped out of bed, I put on a thermal undergarment, layered it with a navy cotton pullover and then a down vest zipped up all the way to under the chin; and, for the bottom, the thickest yoga pants and socks I owned. I made myself a cup of black coffee out of cheap instant powder – no time for a moka pot brew I usually like – and a slice of toast heavily spread with Nutella for an extra sugary boost.
The world was still sound asleep, so as the young doorman in the lobby. In my sneakers, carrying the backpack prepared last night, I made it, I stepped out of the buidling. Air cold and crisp, I tucked my hands into the side pockets of the vest and then started the hike. Alone, in the dark, on a route I had walked numerous times but the first time in this hour and by myself, it wasn’t scary at all. Occasional rustling of leaves in the bush would put me on edge though since the neighbourhood lives a lot of boars, clans of boars. I once saw a mother boar leading 6 piglets, walking orderly in a line, in search of food.
Shone over by the bright moon, the path was clear, and the trees were rimmed with a silvery beam. I could make out the way easily without a headlamp. I stopped by the notice board at a junction, where normally the map of the country park would be displayed but here, we had couplets and a messy doodle drawn with a black ink marker pen. I always had this habit of checking out the couplets because that calligrapher-hiker updated them from time to time.
A couple was on the way of return when I arrived at a park mid-way – there was a boar of the size of a small cow at the entrance to the stairways to my destination. An old man came, spitting and stamping his feet hard on the ground, trying to scare the boar away. The boar howled and looked ready for a head-on battle, but it hushed back into bushes in the end. I walked forward, exchanged a glance with the old man, and the boar was nowhere to be seen. I took out the headlamp from the backpack and switched it on. I shone it over the bushes, still, the boar wasn’t nowhere to be seen or heard. When you knew it’s out there, somewhere close, in the dark, but couldn’t pin it down, it was the most terrifying part.
After pacing about at the entrance for a good few minutes, I mustered the courage to step in the dark and walked into a tunnel of trees where no moonlight could peek in. It was a space of complete darkness that one could imagine all sorts of danger. But I chose this path. I had to finish it even in the dark, alone. When lights could not enter, a pity headlamp didn’t help much in this tunnel of trees. I dashed as fast as I could to leave the tunnel, and as loud as possible to scare wild animals away. Perhaps no lives were scared but me in this open yet confined dark pace. Not sure for how long, I walked through the tunnel and came to a clearing under the moon, then it came the stairways. Surely underestimated the cold and fear, I arrived at the peak in 40 minutes from the moment I left home, which was way faster than my last hike of the same route.
It was wuthering. If there were any tears in the eyes, it would have vanished as if it had never existed.
I walked pass the fences, off the main concrete road and down to the rocky path. Instead of heading to the cape where we watched sunset, I picked a place in the middle of west and east to settle down. Not the best spot for watching sunrise but it was away from other hikers. Teeth chattering and my body quivering, I put on the windbreaker I brought along and sipped warm water from the thermo. I could have used a beanie and scarf really.
There was one star particularly bright and considerable twinkling on the eastern sky where the dawn would later break. In the dim and vast skies, the star was so prominent that one couldn’t leave the eyes from it. I wondered how many light-years it was away from us and how long it took to travel to our eyes. Seeing something beautiful faraway was always romantic. I kept looking at it as if it could help me forget the bitterly cold chilled to the bone.
Time passed in stillness unknowingly, the eastern skies slowly turned from pitch dark into a wash of indigo and amethyst. The star was still twinkling in the dark where the light hadn’t yet reached. Having the blonde moon on the west and the waking sun on the east, I found myself in the middle of day and night. Day and night – an opposite notion, an oxymoronic circumstance in my witness. The first time I saw this was on my flight from Heathrow to home. I could never sleep on flight despite how much champagne I had. While watching my 4th movie, a glaring beam distracted me to move my eyes off from the screen to the window. I pushed up the blind and saw a magnificent burning sky with a sea of dark cobalt above. Above clouds and above all, it was where day and night met.
It was New Year’s Eve when I arrived home. I was glad I did. We watched the last sunset of the year on a ferry, strolled along the waterfront, walked into a crowd of people heading to count-down parties, and had our dinner at a random Korean restaurant where I had seafood pancakes and you had braised beef ribs and soju. Nothing was planned, but I loved how the last moments of the year were spent.
Years gone, now looking at the first sunrise of the year, I wasn’t as exhilarated as other hikers. In fact, knowing the fact that the sun rises and sinks, and that the moon rises and sinks, perpetually, whether you see it or not, soothe and calm me. There is so much in life we can’t grasp but there is still the rising sun and sinking moon, right? Life makes no promise, but sunrise does.
材料：
新鮮魷魚 152克
新鮮蝦 100克
新鮮蜆 20 隻，約取100g克肉
蔥 20克
甘筍 12克
中筋麵粉 ½ 杯
木薯粉 ½ 杯
雞蛋 1 隻
水 ½ 杯
魚露 1 湯匙
海鹽 ½ 茶匙
芝麻油 1 湯匙
食油 適量
步驟：
- 魷魚去骨去皮，切成條狀約2cm長。
- 鮮蝦去殼去腸，切成小粒。
- 鮮蜆浸泡鹽水兩小時吐沙。瀝水後，蒸至蜆殼半開，取出蜆肉並切半。
- 蔥打直切半，再切成2cm長的蔥段。甘筍去皮切絲。
- 麵粉篩入大碗，加鹽後拌勻。打進一隻雞蛋，拌成乾塊狀。
- 加入一半水，拌勻後加入餘下的水，輕柔地拌勻，直至麵糊柔滑，沒有麵粉顆粒。不要過分攪拌。
- 加入魚露、芝麻油及1-4的材料，輕柔地拌勻。
- 以中高火燒熱平底鍋，加多一點食油，加入兩大匙麵糊。
- 一面煎至金黃色後，反轉煎餅，輕壓一下，另一面煎至金黃即可。
Ingredients:
Fresh squids 152g
Fresh shrimps 100g
Fresh clams 20 pieces, yield about 100g meat
Spring onion 20g
Carrot 12g
All-purpose flour ½ cup
Tapioca flour ½ cup
Egg 1 piece
Water ½ cup
Fish sauce 1 tablespoon
Sea salt ½ teaspoon
Sesame oil 1 tablespoon
Oil As needed
Steps:
- Remove the soft bone and skin from the squid. Cut it into strips of 2cm long.
- Deshell and devein the shrimps. Cut into small pieces
- Soak the clams in salted water for 2 hours. Drain and steam them until the shells are half-open. Remove the meat from shells and half it.
- Half the spring onion lengthwise and cut it into strips of 2cm long. Peel and shred the carrot.
- Sieve in the flours in a big bowl, add salt and mix well. Crack an egg into the flour and mix until you get dry lumps.
- Add half of the water, mix well. Gently fold in the remaining water until you have a smooth batter without lumps. Do not over-mix.
- Gently fold in fish sauce, sesame oil and the ingredients of step 1-4 to the batter.
- Heat up a pan over medium-high heat. Add a generous amount of oil and scoop 2 dollops of the pancake batter into the pan.
- Pan-fry it until the side down is golden, and then flip it, gently press down. Add oil if the pan is dry and pan-fry the other side until it is golden and edges crispy.
Jo Liu
It’s raining outside, crisp and bleak. Three chubby sparrows took shelter on my balcony and I gave them the baguette bits left on my breakfast plate but they flew away. I stayed in, played Damien Rice on vinyl and made apple crumble. Repeat.
Instagram: foodialoguehk
