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Published: August 18th 2005
Joss sticks
Giant ones, from below ... Man Mo Temple, Central Hong KongIt was a brave man who once said "Aaaaz fray Wukintun". Thankfully, after more than eight years, he remembered me, and was equally brave to invite us to stay with him in Hong Kong.
At first, "Whamsey", or in his new cosmopolitan Hong Kong playboy incarnation, "Holmsey", apologised for his flat, saying we would have to sleep on the futon in the small living room, space being at a premium in HK. To make matters worse, he is an IT night owl whilst his flatmate is an early rising fitness guru. What ensued was a high octane ninety-six hours which left us both bruised, battered and desperate for sleep, with our host apologising "We're not normally like this in HK."
Our train from Guilin to Shenzhen on the HK border was perhaps the best in China yet. The earth will be swallowed by a small supernova before Britain has trains this good (sorry Martin) - it seemed to hover over rather than trundle along the tracks. We were also hosted by a charming military couple, he returning from his first meeting with her parents. They had brought along a bag full of home-cooked sticky-rice balls, wrapped in banana-leaf and
Hong Kong Island
From Kowloon Harbour with a pulverised meat and sesame centre - a kind of Chinese 'Pain-au-Chocolat'. Out of politeness we ate them but they gave Kim a sleepless night, and in the morning she hid on her top bunk until they had disembarked at Guangzhou (Canton), lest she be forced to eat one for breakfast. Nonetheless they spoke good English and along with the trader from Guangzhou we had a jolly natter.
After the futuristic slickness of the train, the border crossing at Shenzhen was chaotically shambolic. Immigration was as slick as anywhere, it was just finding the border from the station was problematic, with no English signposts and a multi-level layout of stairs and bridges to navigate. Surprising really since this is the main border between HK and China.
A train and four tubes later and we were sitting with Holmsey in the all to familiar day-glo surroundings of your favourite "restaurant" chain. Outside, in the heart of Wan Chai, was a scene straight from Bladerunner or Seven, the black tropical skies having opened as we emerged from the tube station. Thankfully taxis in HK are relatively cheap, and we were wisked off to Holmsey's flat in a pleasantly dry
and air-conditioned environment.
Setting expectations is critical. H. had downplayed his flat, so on entering this small but swanky palace we both went "Woh". And then again, when we saw the view out of his window, looking directly over the Happy Valley race course and onto the well known skyscrapers of Hong Kong Central. This brought back to me Jerry Westerby's first meeting with Drake Ko in Le Carre's "The Honourable SchoolBoy", and, being one of those iconic places I had always wanted to go I had one of those moments of "Whoa, this isn't Sheffield, this is the World". In my early twenties this feeling had been evoked on visiting the Twin Towers, The Golden Gate Bridge and Sydney Opera house. Too much business travel has made the world a smaller place for me but it is good to know there is still some feeling left in there. Sadly, the racing season had just ended, otherwise we had a grandstand view.
It is also worth mentioning that H's flatmate is a former Miss "major country of the world" who competed in Miss Universe recently. I'm being vague to spare her blushes, although both Kim and I were
Joss sticks again
Man Mo Taoist temple, Central Hong Kong impressed by her achievements and found her very friendly and down to earth, with plenty of talents other than simply looking good. I guess more often than not a little fame is a double-edged sword.
That night we settled in, forwarned of the high prices of restaurants in HK (anything based on owning or renting land is very expensive), and so Kim made good use of her Yangshuo cooking skills to produce a very passable Chinese meal. We watched a stunning sunset from the flat window, took advantage of satellite television to watch the breaking coverage of the London bombing (no obvious censorship here) and H's DVD collection to wile away time into the small hours, drinking Australian cask wine which seemed like nectar after what we had been used to in China.
Next day, after spending some time fruitlessly trying to fix the knackered USB ports on H's computer (an annoying software problem but I couldn't figure it out) and even more fruitlessly trying to obtain a USB-Firewire converter (all part of the reason this report is a bit tardy) we set off on a walking tour of HK Central, as recommended in the free brochure we
Happy Valley Racecourse
and central Hong Kong - the view from Holmsey's flat. had picked up somewhere. It was a enjoyable little route, made all the more difficult by the continuation of the high tempuratures and even higher humidity in the region. Kim took up the practice of walking a zig-zag route taking in every shop doorway in order to get a blast of air-conditioning every four or five paces, whilst I just struggled along getting damper and damper.
I no longer have the map to hand so no place names, but what of HK itself. Visually it is an odd mix, with the imposing ultra-modern skyscrapers hemmed in by high hills to one side and the harbour on the other. At street level the contrast with 'real' Chinese cities is marked. With the exception of the plazas and swanky bars that house and entertain the financial elite, the rest of HK appears quite shabby and rundown, as if the glass edifices had sprung organically out of some destitute compost heap or rubbish tip. Whilst above 20m in height HK has led the way in modernisation, below this it now lags behind the increasingly modern and slick Chinese cities we visited.
I want to make it clear I am not being
The Razor
5th tallest building in the world - from Holmsey's flat. It's not that straight as I was leaning my tripod out of his window. detrimental to the city in any way - I like run-down and shabby - quite often it means interesting, varied and lively, and this is certainly the case here. For those familiar with and fond of "Chinatown" districts in Western cities then this must be the original, more Chinese to us than China itself. Narrow streets are packed with rows of shops selling everything from birds nests to sharks fins, from cameras to antiques. Above your head gaudy and imposing neon signs jut into the street, like a teenager trying hard to make their point. And every twenty metres or so is that most delightful of cultural specimens, as exciting to watch as any lion or rhino, the old geezer in his vest (if you're lucky) and shorts, possibly even underwear, slumped on a stool, beer belly distended, dripping sweat in the heat and wearing the expression of a constipated hippo. It may not be to what I aspire but it may be where I'm headed.
And what about the people themselves? I hate to say it, and I'm quite sure that it doesn't stand up to close inspection, but we both felt that, taken as a whole, the
Watch your weight
Hong Kong has very narrow trams Chinese in HK seem like adults, whilst the Chinese in China seem like children. It probably helps that many speak excellent English as well as Cantonese, and I'm sure it also helps that the HK Chinese have more experience in dealing with Westerners and western culture. The cultural differences between China and the West are considerable, to the point at which a top Chinese official trying hard to appear formal, authoritarian and competent can end up looking quite comical to us. Of course I realise this is the case with some of our own erstwhile leaders, but it is just one example of how the culture gap can get to you when you are exposed to China without a good amount of understanding and guidance.
But really we didn't see to much of Chinese HK - we were embarking on an expat rollercoaster which started that evening meeting some of H's mates in the equivalent of a posh city bar in 2 IFC, the fifth tallest building in the world. Not much to say about this other than everyone seemed very clean, washed and presentable, and most of them stayed that way until we bid them goodnight, after a
few rounds of ten-pin bowling on Kowloon, at about midnight. Then the fun started.
I picked up my first bruises and a bit of whiplash trying to retrieve the rosette I had won bowling. It had fallen over the side of the escalator we were on, and shortly afterwards so had I, my balance slightly affected by a few beers. It took longer for Kim and H. to recover from the sight of my slow but inevitable tumble - their highly amused faces showed signs of pain for a while afterwards.
H's band had been supposed to play that night in Wan Chai, HK's equivalent to Soho in London, Greenwich Village in New York and Division Street in Sheffield, but due to a personal bereavement they had had to cancel. H. thought it best to show willing anyway, and wanted to check out the competition. On the way he took us past the Pat Pong style show bars until we reached the infamous rough and ready “The Wanch.”
We watched the band playing good covers, the female lead pumping out strong vocals, and more drinks slipped down. I sustained further injuries and loss of dignity fraternising with
Dried Starfish
Yummyty Yummie a large and quite powerful American gentleman. In his enthusiasm to dance I sustained a split lip and a bruise on the arm. Conversation was not much better. Commenting on the prediliction of many Western men for Asian women he kept saying “Why eat potatoes when you can have steak at home”. Despite this it took my best efforts at self-sacrifice to keep his somewhat over-eager attentions away from Kim. Her honour was perhaps better defended by a very serious young South African chap although he was no match for this grizzly from the backwoods of the North.
Meanwhile Kim was having a light-sabre tussle with the lead guitarist (who had stopped playing by now) in which she picked up a broken toenail, several bruises and a free drink. Finally, and thankfully, the bar closed and H. took us home via a couple of the more famous and seedier pick-up joints, which we both found more offensive in the veneer of respectability than the “what you see is what you get” saloons we had passed earlier in the evening.
Sleep and recovery occupied much of the next day. H. took us to the exclusive Happy Valley Sports Club,
Dried Abalone
Nope, I've eaten too much, starting to feel queasy now. BTW, it's 13.5 HKD to the pound, 7.7 HKD to the USD and 9.33 to the Euro, so these Abalone come pretty pricey per catty (about 500g I think). of which he is a member, to watch the Lions get stuffed by the All-Blacks again. We also did some browsing around local shops, before launching into Wan Chai Round II.
The event this time was in honour of H's flatmate who has having some trials at work. Things started out sedately enough with dinner at a “Mongolian” BBQ, one of the more reasonably priced restaurant options in HK. What relation these places have to Mongola is beyond me - I think the originator just stole the nationality for his brand, realising there were no authentic Mongolian restuarants around at the time. Anyway it was pleasant enough.
We then started a nice out and back pub crawl based around three Wan Chai bars - the first which encourages clientelle to dance on the bar, the second seemed fairly normal and the third had a very good Philippino cover band. It seems that in this neck of the woods all professional maids and professional bands are Philipinno - the latter on account of the apparently well renowned vocal talents of this nation. Anyway, they were very good, and we started to shake of our stupour from the previous evening
and liven up. There was a predominance of single men and “western” females are a relative rarity. Our little band certainly caused a stir wherever we went. Mindful of our low budget and Kim's craving for decent wine, one of the more outgoing young women in our group took Kim off to prove it was easy to get free drinks in HK. They aimed high, looking for a whole bottle of nice white wine from two Germans, and almost got it before the national characteristics of disciplined organisation and logic took hold. Instead, the younger German got a free diagnosis of his ACL problems. Oh Well. Despite the serious bar fatigue we again managed to return after 4.00am.
Having dispensed the pleasure, the Holmes Correctional Institute of Health and Well-Being started to pile on the pain. This was in the form of a walk over the mountains from Wong Nai Chung Gap over Violet Hill and then The Twins to the pleasantly idyllic seaside town of Stanley. People kept talking about running, but in that heat and humidity I was determined one foot would always be connected with the ground. It was a very scenic and enjoyable walk, through
steep-sided hills and valleys surrounded by the deep blue ocean, spectacular beaches and even more spectacular high-rises. The second hill of 1000 steps almost finished me however, although by the top I did catch the American runner who had passed us earlier. The decent into Stanley was delightful, and once the sweat had dried somewhat we were able to enjoy some “Pocari Sweat” electrolyte drink on the beach.
This was real “English seaside” Chinese-style. There may not have been any knotted handkerchiefs on heads, but there were rolled-up trouser legs, buckets and spades and lots and lots of people. Stalls selling noodles, sausages and kebabs replaced “rock” candy and candy-floss. But otherwise there was a definite air of “Britishness” about it- maybe we are more closely related than we thought.
Sadly we couldn't stay, having a date with the sunset view over Hong Kong Island and Harbour from Kowloon, so we left the others enjoying themselves whilst we hurried to get back before it got too dark, Given the short timeframe Kim went scouting for the best location whilst I plonked my tripod next to a group of others, which turned out to be the Wan Chai camera
Happy Buddha
'Antique' dealers, Hong Kong Central club. They proved friendly, well-equipped and informative, and far more fun than the rather weak nightly laser show (we had watched the impressive fireworks launched from the top of the skyscrapers from H's flat the night before but I didn't get my camera out thinking it was a nightly, not occasional, event.)
We finally got back to H's around 10.00pm knowing we were due an early start to go mountain biking on Lantau Island the next day, with Hiko, H's Japanese adventure race partner. Needles to say the sudden early start was quite a shock to the system and the prospect of any form of exertion in the heat was quite daunting. H has recently purchased a lightweight carbon-fibre race bike and was keen to continue familiarising himself with it.
The route took us from Mui Wo on Lantau island, around the Chi Ma Wan peninsula to Pui O beach, then back over to Mui Wo.
The start of the trail proved tough enough, involving a climb up several sets of steep steps. Moments of riding between steep rocky sections both uphill and downhill were rare. At the start I wrestled with the almost non-existant front suspension
Offerings
Man Mo Taoist temple, Central Hong Kong in the front forks (I would have been better with rigid forks) and took it easy on the downhills. The ride did improve however, with the second and longer section comprising narrow singletrack punctuated with rideable rocky sections. I started to get the feel of the bik and began enjoying myself. After about three hours, including a couple of stops for H to phone the office to provide some technical support, we arrived at the beach ready for food. Sadly, as it was Summer Camp they weren't serving anyone over 5ft tall. Netherless we downed several bottles of “Gatorade” and then headed back for the start, by road over a 700ft col, where H's superior bike and body saw him pass my rapidly dieing legs on the penultimate straight.
The air-conditioned ferry back to HK Island proved very relaxing, and after another quick turnaround we were out shopping for cigars and off up to Victoria Peak for sunset. No nice camera club this time, just lots of (Western) people with digicams flashing merrily leaning against my tripod and knocking it, making it hard to get a decent picture at times. Kim, bless her, helped as always by getting to
the front and blocking the place where people were leaning into my shot. Photography is a selfish game but it is not just those with the better gear who are the most selfish.
And finally, back to the flat for a well deserved takeaway pizza and a few episodes of “Coupling” on DVD (Geoff surely must be one of the greatest comic characters of this decade) before iour early start to Macau Airport, where the cheap airlines live, the next morning.
All-in-all we were quite surprisingly impressed with HK, both thinking it may well be a nice place to live for a year or two. There is a lot of wild terrain thereabouts to play in and some pretty decent mountains, plus beaches, diving etc and all the facilities of one of the worlds greatest cities. We met several of H's friends who live by the beach on Lamma Island and commute to the city centre by air-conditioned ferry, which seems a rather pleasant way to divide your time. For most of the year the weather is very pleasant, and as we found even the monsoon can be tolerable. Who knows, maybe one day.
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johnny
non-member comment
Great Night Shots!!
You have taken some remarkable night shots! How did you do these? F-stop? Exposure time? DSLR? or point and shoot?? Email me at jm@johnmoretti.com and let me know. You did a fantastic job and I want to get the same results! John - www.johnmoretti.com and www.operationplayground.org