Bonkers Honkers Zonkers

If I was to choose anywhere that was the antithesis of the place that I left I’d be hard pushed to look past Hong Kong. Okay, so Canberra and Hong Kong were both civilised by the British and have a few hills to climb, but that’s as close as it gets. What Hong Kong has is that messy, chaotic, smelly concoction that comes from people being crammed together, putting the definite hum in humanity in the sweltering midst of August. I’m not sure I could live in it, but it’s sure one hell of a fun ride to visit. Five days in which to soak up not just several hundred pints of water vapour, but funny writing, slick buildings, star ferries and crazy trams, Big Buddhas and little feet, hanging ducks and pork buns. A city insane in the making and constantly on the edge of insanity. Here are some neon blinking highlights...

I can’t believe it’s hot, Buddha

The first day in Hong Kong was spent getting out of Hong Kong, with a trip to Lantau Island, and a cable car ride up to the ‘Big Buddha’. Naturally, you’d find this would be the first thing on any Australian’s list, and it was infinitely better than the big potato or big cheese. Sure, there was a theme park feel to the place, what with the insatiable appetite for consumption in the air, but once you actually made it to Buddha and ambled around the nearby Po Lin Monastery, you got that serene feeling that seems to come with the smell of incense, vegetarianism, and repetitive monosyllabic chanting.

The Big Buddha itself sits atop many many steps, paying pilgrimage a chore in the midday sun. But he has a terrific view, along with an inside that is blessed with some of that spiritual air-conditioned comfort. While hot, the weather was in fact marvellous, a splendid day to take in the mountainous surrounds and many islands spread out afar. An introduction to a side of Hong Kong that is not all high-rise mayhem.

Up here, vegetarian fare seemed to be the order of the day, given all these Bok Choi loving Buddhists and one extra cabbage muncher called Jason who was with me on this day. Apart from the excellent tofu, it was gloopy fare for the most part, but at least it took us into the serenity and shade that was the Monastery and various temples and gardens.

City Life

The city is spectacular and crazy, though where the city starts and ends is virtually impossible to ascertain. A rather good perspective was attained from ‘the other side’ on Wednesday night – or Tsim Sha Tsui as I preferred not to try to pronounce it. Generally, the biggest, shiniest skyscrapers seem to broadly indicate the city, but then these stretch on and on along the narrow line of land between harbour and mountain. Still, whichever way you look, a stunning view to soak up and all for the price of about 25p on the Star Ferry.

Many an ambling was done in Wan Chai, where we were staying just to the east of the city proper. Here, the contrast between east and west is all around, from large corporate offices and Starbucks to the narrow lined markets selling lots of anything and everything. The caramel frappuccino may be slightly more appealing than the rows of fish and hanging intestines, but the latter is certainly more authentic...I think. But in true Hong Kong style it doesn’t matter, each can naturally exist in their own right...dim sum can be next to an Irish bar which can be next to a Thai massage long time happy valley ending which can be next to an electronics store which can be next to a fruit and veg stall which can be next...okay so you get the point. The thing is, the best approach as a visitor is to just go with it and lap it up.

Which is exactly what we did by jumping on a tram, or something very narrow and tall that looked as though it could topple over at any moment on rails. It was great to just sit at the top of the back deck, get some slight relief from a breeze and watch the city bustle its way along. Breezing past the shiny cleanliness of skyscraper world, where important people were no doubt doing important things like pillaging the global economy. On to Central, where designer boutiques and the occasional colonial artefact were interspersed with narrow alleyways stuffed with market goods. Heading deeper into a less anglicised world of Chinese shops and shoebox apartments and – yes that very very Chinese thing – construction sites. And probably a step too far, Kennedy Town, a pleasant enough neighbourhood, but one from which we had to return on a more crowded tram.

Things neither cool nor quieten down much at night. In fact, the place is so abuzz at night and at its neon best that darkness appears to be its most comfortable state. It’s a very easy place to have a big night or two, even easier when you are with Jason and Mat, who somehow made the adjustment from living in Canberra to Hong Kong. A quiet beverage in Wan Chai turns into a few more, and Friday night provides the splendour of Taiwanese Dim Sum followed by peanuts galore on the floor and 7-11 beers on the tiers. Yes, one of the cheapest and most entertaining ways to be cheap and entertain oneself is by buying cans of beer from the 7-11 and drinking them on the streets of Lan Kwai Fong. Now, it is important to note here, this is not the same as buying two litres of cider and drinking them on the street corner in Swilly and being a disrespectful and idiotic hooligan. There is no nastiness or aggression. Just many people enjoying themselves in a free and open way, even if that involves borrowing some devil horns once in a while.

Should one feel a little tired and emotional from all this, or simply overwhelmed by the excesses of humanity, I always find a city’s parks can be a godsend. Hong Kong has some very fine examples, true lush oases in the urban jungle, though it’s not so easy to escape those pesky human beings. Sunday afternoon in particular, when, feeling a little tired and emotional, I ventured along to Victoria Park in Causeway Bay. Here, every single shady spot (and there were many) was cloaked by women aged between something like 15 and 35 enjoying a picnic, a natter, and the free wifi on their various technological gizmos. I wondered if it was some giant pick-up joint, and suddenly felt very conspicuous... white, greying westerner with big camera seeking happy ending. But no-one batted an eyelid and even threw in a few dance routines in the midst of the fig trees as I wandered along, big lens extending once in a while to capture the madness that is this city.

Peaking early...and again

They say one of the best places to get a perspective on the city is from atop Victoria Peak on Hong Kong Island. I was a little concerned that we had not made it up here on two clear and sunny days previously, a risk in a city in which clouds and storms and smog can often blanket the panorama. But I need not have worried, another fabulous and hot day on Saturday made the walking and waiting for the Peak tram arduous but undoubtedly worthwhile. The tram is a tourist must do, and so being a tourist, I was very glad to let it take the strain.

It’s amazing just how lush and green a large part of Hong Kong is, thanks in no small part to its precipitous geography which limits the opportunities for more high density housing (for now at least). They have of course managed to squeeze a couple of shopping centres at the top of the Peak, but the air-conditioning they offer is a real crowd pleaser. As too is the top floor, offering substantial views in all directions, without having to pay for the privilege.

It doesn’t take quite so long up here though to leave the hustle and bustle, thanks to a number of tracks and trails. I guess in theory it’s a little cooler for leisurely pursuits such as dog walking, not that it felt any different to me. In between the welcome shade, more views can be had both across the city and out to other islands and mountainous horizons.

The road down from the Peak, in a very full bus, never seems to end, a constant winding freefall through the trees past opulent houses and the occasional apartment block. It does end though, and very handily close to the hotel. This made it extremely easy to return, via bus, the following evening to soak up the late day glow and shadows transforming into dusky twinkling lights and night time illuminations. Seriously unlike Mount Ainslie.

From one island to another to another

Sunday night upon the Peak was like the culmination of everything that had gone before and Monday was the day to get out of this place. To be honest, I was just about ready to leave, mainly to escape the almost torturous humidity, switching to something a bit more bearable, as well as resting the overloaded senses. But there was a whole day to go, with my flight late on in the evening, thus giving me the opportunity of a ferry ride to the compact island of

Cheung Chau.

The ferry ride was like all good ferry rides – naturally cruisy with a decent breeze, as the boat trundled its way alongside the islands, with bigger and more impressive ferries whizzing their way to Macao, mammoth cargo ships inching onwards to deliver their loads, and the occasional fishing boat extracting something from the water to turn pungent on a street somewhere nearby.

Cheung Chau is quite a small island, though still with 30,000 inhabitants packed somewhere in its midst. Unlike most of the other islands though, it is low rise and relatively unglamorous, narrow streets making the bicycle the standard form of transport. It was quite amazing to observe the riding skills of these cyclists, taking on narrow streets and shuffling pedestrians with aplomb as they somehow wove their way through gaps and angles that looked to be mathematically impossible.

The guide books described it as the most Chinese of the islands, this equating to similar mayhem to elsewhere but with fewer Engrish signs and a scruffier, earthier look and feel. The harbour in particular was a throng of activity and hubbub, packed with junk and junks and other vessels looking barely seaworthy, delivering fish to be salted and aired out in the open, infusing with the smell of incense from a nearby temple to create an interesting aroma. Nearby streets were crammed with shops and stalls containing seemingly dated and obscure electrical products, next to dried fish bits next to inflatable beach goods. With its maze of narrow streets and love of tat, it was like Polperro on Chinese gymnast steroids.

As well as Polperro, there were tenuous comparisons to be had with Manly in Sydney – a short walk from the ferry harbour along a square and small strip of shops taking you to the other bay side of the island in a couple of minutes. Here a stretch of sand lined with the occasional spot for a cooling drink, a clean looking beach not unpleasant at all. In the distant thundery looking haze was Hong Kong Island and the tops of skyscrapers peeking above surrounding hills.

Apparently it’s not surfing that’s the go-go here, but windsurfing. However, today there was hardly a breath of air on what was turning into the most humid day, the sunniness of previous days replaced by an indecisive greyness that could either turn into a deluge or break into watery sunshine depending on what mood it was in. This set the scene for a rather sweaty walk up from the beach and along undulating streets to the southern part of the island. Here, more substantial and leafy houses dotted the way, before giving way completely to woodland for a little while, into which the island’s cemetery gradually infiltrated. The final, downhill part emerged into the southern end of the harbour where, once again, a more chaotic and scruffy authenticity reigned.

Back around the bay a little to the ferry harbour I picked up some coke and an ice cream, an attempt to cool down a little. I thought about lingering on the beach but the dodgy looking weather and enticement of an air-conditioned fast ferry just creeping into the quay were enough to propel me back to Hong Kong Island. With still several hours to spare before my late night flight, and a few dollars left on my Octopus card (like the oyster card but with extra tentacles), I once again took the Star Ferry across to TST, a final opportunity to walk the ‘avenue of stars’, locate Bruce Lee, and gaze back upon the impressive city skyline.

Can I call this a relaxing start to a holiday? No way. Can I call it one of the most stimulating, consistently eye-opening and enduringly memorable few days? Without a doubt. A final discovery to be had was the pleasure of Japanese Ramen at the airport, putting me in a contented and relaxed mood for the long trip to Germany, and some decent airplane naps. From there, Tuesday’s sunrise accompanies me on the hop over to London City and anarchy in the UK. Out of chaos comes order?