We emerge from Central Station’s underground taxi stand, scooting along in a boxy, red Toyota Crown Comfort cab, complete with remote-controlled rear door openers and de rigueur custom gearshift knobs, and plunge Space Mountain style into daylight among the skyscrapers.
We’re on a tight schedule. For my girlfriend, Elisabeth, and me, Hong Kong is two 10-hour layovers bookending an Asia trip, but we’re after more than that schedule should reasonably allow. Before hopping into the cab, we had parked our bags at the airport and taken an 80-mile-an-hour train ride into town. I had put the word out to friends and colleagues that we would need help to get the most out of our visit. While Anthony Bourdain might have a fleet of specialists to plan his visits for his television show “The Layover,” we had a guy named Nelf.