Waving goodbye to Sara as she dropped us back in Kowloon for the last time we lugged our bags towards our accommodation, the fruitily named 'Apple Inn'. Naturally, it was a hole with eye stingingly green and yellow walls but our bunk mate was a pleasant Chinese fellow, on business from the mainland, and he smiled genially in an unperturbed fashion as I swung my ass into the top bunk.

Today was destined to be an exciting but leg-aching day. The plan was to see SoHo and sample some street food before attempting to find Hong Kong's Goldfish Market, Flower Market and the Kowloon Wet Market.

Rucksacks strapped up tight and a vague sense of direction we boldly headed out to find SoHo. It wasn't hard to find, just look for huge, flashing billboards and you're probably there. The streets were packed and with the neon lights flashing overhead and the glittering high end fashion stores dressing the majority of the people on the pavement, I thought how easy it would be to get immersed in the lifestyle of Hong Kong. It is all very appealing but I don't know if the constant commercial pressure and heaving pavements would be for me.

The famous mid-level escalators of SoHo were delightful, the 800m length of the thing whisked us past a gaggle of narrow streets and rickety steps. It took us up a surprising height of 135m on Hong Kong's steep terrain, it was easy to see why in 2015 CNN dubbed the escalators the 'coolest commute' in the world.

When disembarking in the heart of SoHo we were greeted by hundreds of bars all packed with suited and booted business people, all sipping red wine and smoothing their ties. We felt quite out of place as we scanned our menus looking for the cheapest drink available - I opted for a Guinness (from a can), Chelsea for a glass of prosecco - at least one of us is willing to make financial sacrifices.

Leaving the glamour of the bars and the stained pavements behind we marched off to find Hong Kong's markets!

The first one we eagerly came to was the Goldfish Market, it was a very surreal place. Thousands of goldfish were tied in clear bags hanging outside the streets entire length of shops - it looked like a street draped in large bubble wrap. Every sort of aquatic pet imaginable was here from turtles to octopus, and Chinese people bartered energetically to get the most attractive specimens for their home. The Chinese believe that a fish in the home is extremely lucky so there is a roaring trade here, a clever marketing ploy again as I'm pretty sure a poor little fish doesn't have the longest life expectancy.

The colourful fish did make for an incredible backdrop to this bustling place but there was more to been seen so we scaled (haha) a few more pavements and headed for the Flower Market.

Assaulted. That's the best way I can describe the experience for my poor sinuses. I am not one of those weepy-eyed hayfever people but I was chocking on the stuff that loomed over the place in a narcissistic yellow cloud. Sure, the place was beautiful and looked like you had stumbled into Alan Titchmarsh's greenhouse but the smell was over powering. I left there slightly delusional and thought myself a daffodil for a good hour after vacating the market as I tried to coax bees towards my tear choked face as we leafed our way (haha) through another tangle of streets.

Blinking dramatically we found our final destination, the amorously named Wet Market. On paper this place sounds extremely interesting: well hung meat, large choppers, moist loins and a good shank. In fairness, the place was compulsive but not as I had been led to believe. The place was full of odd 'thumps' and 'cracks' as butchers expertly chopped and sliced away at entire carcasses in front of a silently awed group of people. It must be said that their skill and precision was beguiling as they reduced an entire animal to succulent cuts of meats within minutes. Had I stumbled upon this place by mistake I would have thought I had walked into a horror movie, almost everyone is in white overalls with thick wellies and a dense coating of lumpy bloody up their fronts while a faint smell of iron hangs in the air from all the blood. The experience was very interesting though and I would recommend it.

With our fill of fish, freesias and flanks we trotted (haha) off in search of food - which turned out to be a Pizza Hut (the shame) - and our thin mattresses. Another gloriously packed day in Hong Kong.