Two Ferries & Fantastic Food

Today we ate one of the best meals we have ever experienced: The meal was served in one of the shabbiest restaurants we've seen, where arrogant rats openly strolled across the floor to stand, whiskers twitching, sizing up the chances of joining in our feast.....

The day began with a stroll down Nathan Road to the Star Ferry terminal. Simon was in a buoyant mood, having discovered the wonders of Chinese Laundry - he'd sent virtually his entire wardrobe to be washed, pressed and hangered. "They've come back better than new...." he babbled. I didn't have the heart to tell him that, for the cost of the laundry, he could have bought the whole lot new, twice over!

Once disgorged from the Star Ferry we transferred onto a ferry to Discovery Bay, en-route to Tai O. Today was going to be all about contrasts - seeing the whole spectrum of life around Honky. We'd already seen the incredibly beautiful glass and steel skyscrapers in the banking sector, the fleets of expensive Limos and the beautifully dressed women enjoying the excesses of the city's shopping malls.

We'd also seen the grim concrete high rise apartments, their windows strewn with laundry poles, the boat people and the back-street food markets. Tai O would give a more intimate view of life on the lower rungs.

We had to wait for a while to catch the Tai O bus out of Discovery Bay, so spent some time window shopping. Well, it was supposed to be window shopping ... but a beautiful micro-scooter proved irresistible, ending up as Simon's hand-baggage for the rest of our holiday! Eventually the bus arrived and we joined a varied selection of locals for the scenic drive around southern Lantau.

Tai O was truly atmospheric - Shambolic stilt houses clung to the muddy banks of a small creek, connected by rickety elevated walkways. Behind the stilt houses were more robust square dwellings fashioned from sheet metal on wooden frames. In the background concrete apartment blocks soared up to obscure the lush green hills surrounding the creek. Outside the stilt houses baskets of fish and shrimp were laid out to dry in the sun. The muggy, humid air was laden with the "fragrance" of the drying fish, mixed with the scent of seaweed and stagnant mud.

We made our way through the village which was virtually deserted, apart from a few old women sitting quietly on the sidewalks. It was all rather tranquil and had a strangely beautiful ugliness! With time to kill before our next bus arrived we decided to find somewhere to buy lunch, settling on an open-fronted stilt restaurant which boasted half a dozen canteen tables.

And so we perched on rickety chairs, the scent of stagnant mud wafting up through the floorboards, whilst our meal was being prepared: fresh fish (species unknown) with rice and stir fried vegetables. While we listened to the sizzle and clatter of the Wok in the kitchen we gazed around the room. Suddenly Fran grabbed my arm: "Omigod! Dad, there's a rat!" And, sure enough, Roland Rodent emerged from under a table to saunter arrogantly past us. During the course of our meal he appeared again but, as I calmly pointed out to Fran, you really can't do much to control pests when you live in a stilt-house perched over a river.

The meal was soon served with a flourish. It was utterly, utterly delicious, the freshest possible fish served with vegetables grown on the slopes behind the village. It was quite simply the tastiest, freshest meal we had eaten. What's more, after the inflated prices in Honky it seemed absurdly cheap!

The ferry to Cheung Chau was a pleasure in itself. We sat at the back of the upper deck watching the receding Hong Kong skyline. It was a particularly hazy day and it added a new dimension to the view - everything being composed of layers of blue grey silhouettes and sparkling water. Cheung Chau was yet another facet of Honky life: this little island seemed almost European with its esplanade of cafes and coffee shops. Although there was a reasonable fleet of fishing boats in the harbour, the village seemed to be shared by ex-pats and middle-order Chinese - a bolt-hole for the "almost wealthy".

One of the charms of Cheung Chau is its narrow streets. So narrow that they are impassable to normal motor vehicles. As a result it's a pedestrian paradise ..... the harbour railings supporting more push-bikes than you might expect to see in Holland, reinforcing the european/oriental feel.

We sat at a harbourside cafe for a meal. Sadly this was no Tai O - no rats (of the rodent variety) lurked here to entertain us, nor was the cuisine so tasty or authentic.

After our meal we took an enjoyable walk around "The Tourist Trail", a pleasant circular walk around the hills above the harbour, before boarding the return ferry to Honky.

Relaxing on the upper deck in the dying rays of a sunny day provided a perfect end to the excursion....
zzzzzz!

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