The sky was gloomy this morning, but at least it wasn’t raining again. The typhoon warning had also passed and so the wind had dropped accordingly. 

After I dragged myself out of bed, I took a hugely long shower. My feet were red and sore from the amount of walking I’d done over the last few days and my dodgy knee had stiffened as well. This is usually a sign that it would start playing up soon, which is something I really didn’t want considering I’d be facing two long haul flight later that evening. 

I only had the one last thing that I really wanted to see before I left, and that was to go to Sky100 the observation deck of the ICC skyscraper, the tallest building in Hong Kong and the 4th tallest in the world. 

Wanting to give my feet and knee a rest, I took a taxi there which was a good plan. 

Upon paying for my ticket I was ushered into an elevator that sped me up to the 100th floor. Like when I visited the Rockefeller Centre in New York I got lucky because there were hardly any people there. So I had the luxury of looking out over Hong Kong at my leisure and trying to spot all the places I’d visited over the last nine days. 

I couldn’t say why, but I adore looking down on the landscape from above. From cable-cars, airplanes to just good old-fashioned viewing points there is just something cool in seeing what normally towers above below you. I’d been able to do a lot of that on this trip. From skyscrapers in Hong Kong and Shenzhen, from a tower in Macau as well as the cable cars at Lantau and Ocean Park, and then of course there is that breathtaking view from The Peak. 

I headed to the IFC mall again with the intention of getting lunch. However as I stood on the metro I could feel my knee growing more painful. I remembered seeing a cinema not far from the Apple Store and thought it would be good to watch a film. Even if I couldn’t understand it, I’d be off my feet for a couple of hours. 

As it happened the next showing was Jonny English Returns starring Rowen Atkinson – or to everyone else that that was in the queue Mr. Bean. 

Watching a film in a foreign country is an unusual experience. Particularly watching a comedy. When there were physical jokes, we would often laugh at different things. Something that I didn’t really register would provoke gales of laughter from the locals. Whereas some things I laughed at barely raised a titter. 

The verbal jokes were the complete inverse of the previous day, (when I would have to wait for a translation of a joke that people were already laughing at before getting the joke) I would be laughing a few seconds before most other people as they needed to read the translation on screen

The best part of the entire movie watching experience was when Jonny English spoke some Cantonese. The entire cinema absolutely erupted with laughter at his deliberate mispronunciations, and if the English translations in the subtitles were correct I can see why as it just have been surreal to them. 

The film was an enjoyable way to kill a couple of hours, but my knee was still causing concern and I only had a couple of hours left before I would need to be at the hotel for my bus to the airport. I decided that I’d head back a little early and stop off for food along the way. 

Just outside my Metro stop was a chemist with a giant illuminated foot outside advertising foot massages. I’d seen it all week and had laughed at the it, but this time as I was passing I thought ‘well why not’. So it was that a few minutes later I was sat in an armchair and my feet in boiling water with scented oils poured in. 

I then spent the next 90 minutes having every inch of my feet and calf muscles poked, rubbed, stretched, kneaded and pulled. At the start far from being relaxing it was a form of torture as my muscles resisted this continued assault. But soon the knots were worked out and I started to relax and enjoy it.

In some ways the experience was surreal. We shared no common language, and despite my being very content to just sit back and receive a little pampering before my flight, the lady thought that I’d like to hear something in my own language and so turned on a small TV flipping through stations looking for something in English. What she eventually found was a kids cartoon. 

If you had told me that my last couple of hours in Hong Kong would be spent having my feet rubbed as Dora the Explorer played on TV; I’ve have said you were nuts. 

After she had finished my feet felt like they belonged to someone else. All the aches that had been there this morning were gone, and my calf muscles felt loose. My knee was still sore, but my feet felt so good that I didn’t really care. 

I paid and then walked the short journey to my hotel. Where I had just enough time to have a shower before checking out and boarding the bus to the airport.  

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As this was to be my last full night in Hong Kong, I wanted to go out and have a meal in a nice restaurant. 

I’d generally eaten street food and noodles since I’d arrived and it had been universally excellent. The food in Hong Kong is something that I would recommend to anyone. It helped of course that the kind of food that was being served was my favourite food anyway. My mother once said to be that ‘you can’t have noodles every day’. 

Yes you can. 

So it was that I found myself in a restaurant looking out over Victoria harbour towards the Hong Kong Island side. I doubt I could ever tire of this view at night, and it makes me a little sad that I don’t know when I’ll see it again. 

I had a chicken satay starter, followed by Szechuan beef with a chow main. The food was nice, but seemed strangely bland in comparison to the other food I’d eaten since arriving. 

This was a shame as this was by far the most expensive meal that I had. I think it would be fair to say that the charge more accurately reflected the view than the cost of the meal.

After dinner I went for a walk around the harbour mall and the surrounding area before heading back to the Temple Street market as I had seen a bag that I liked and regretted not getting it. 

I knew what it would be a copy, but so long as it was decently made and not too expensive I’d buy it. I found the stall with the bag and couldn’t see any real difference with the ‘real’ thing and so jumped into haggling with the stallholder. 

For some reason I had a total brain fart when I calculating my price. Instead of using a HKD to GBP rate, and became fixated on the Dollar part of the name and so was mentally converting USD to GBP – a pretty significant difference in price!

I got the guy down to what I thought was £25. Quite a bit for a market stall item, but a price I’d happily have paid for the same bag at home even without the ‘label’. So the stallholders happy, I’m happy and everyone’s a winner. 

It wasn’t until a few minutes later that my brain finally made the connection between that nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite as it seemed and the exchange rate. One quick recalculation later and I realised I’d not paid the equivalent of £25, I’d paid about £4. A totally ridiculous price for what I’d bought. 

One last journey on the Star Ferry later I headed back to my hotel and a welcoming bed.  

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The typhoon flag was hoisted again this morning. Only to level 1 so at least everything would remain open. Other than being a little gusty, there wasn’t any real notable effect. But the rain was back again and this time it was a constant drizzle. So just like being at home really. 

Today I wanted to do something a little different to my usual pattern, so I headed to a theme park called Ocean Park. I went to see two things – first to go on the cable cars that I had seen snaking around the mountainside when I visited Aberdeen. Secondly because they had four Giant Pandas and I really wanted to see them. Yes, I know what a total cliché. But in this case I just couldn’t help myself. 

Theme Parks in the pouring rain are unusual places. The kids quite obviously don’t give a monkeys about the weather and continue to charge around hyperactively. The parents however radiate a resigned air of disappointment. You don’t need to speak the language to understand their thoughts – I’m wet, and lets just get this over with so we can go home. You’ve not lived until you’ve seen a toddler hugging a sodden park mascot, the costume totally soaked through. But even better than this is when the kid makes mummy and daddy hug the mascot. You can’t help but try to stifle your laughter as a  squishy waterlogged panda hugs them extra tight. 

The whole place was a crazy mixture of happy kids and miserable adults. Then of course there were the idiots like me who didn’t even have the excuse of being dragged here by my kids. I’d willingly come here in the pouring rain so that I could catch a glimpse of a bear. 

It was unsurprising therefore that my first stop was the panda house. There was a long queue, but it moved quickly and I soon find myself indoors and looking through a huge window at young panda laying flat on his back, his legs spread massively wide open revealing all to the world. 

This panda had zero shame. 

He (definitely he) just lay there. He lay so still that I began to suspect this was elaborate practical joke. But the he sat up, gave himself a bit of a scratch and flopped back down. Clearly Pandas and I have something in common. 

Clearly my young Panda friend wasn’t in the most energetic mood, so I moved back out into the park. Now I’d seen the Panda I was at a bit of a loss. So I just started to wander around to see what I could find. 

I ventured through one door and found myself in practically empty auditorium where a show was just starting. A trainer came out with a bucket and welcomed us all in Cantonese, which was followed by a recording in English. He went through a jokey little routine, the audience would laugh and then 20 seconds later I’d laugh on my own as the translation caught up. Finally he asked us to put our hands together and welcome the star of the show and absolutely huge elephant seal. Huge is an understatement as he dwarfed the trainer. The trainer gave a talk about the elephant seal, and the seal himself would stand up, or point his flippers, or open his mouth at the appropriate time. It was more educational than entertainment, and the seal wasn’t made to do silly tricks or anything. In fact he seemed to be loving it in a ‘what I just have to have my belly rubbed and I get another fish’ kind of way. 

Moving on I walked though a cave and into a huge open netted enclosure. Lots of birds flew around freely, and as I walked around a corner a small crowd had gathered. I joined the crowd and watched an a keeper started to empty food into a container and Red Pandas ran out to grab it. I’ve got to say they are pretty cute creatures. 

It was around the next corner that I had my biggest surprise. For there were the adult Giant Pandas and unlike before there were no huge queues pushing and shoving for a glimpse, and this time one was awake. 

I can see why people fall in love with the Giant Panda. The do look so cuddly and friendly Yes, they have the strength to pull my arms off but I’d still like to give one a hug! She sat there just chewing on her bamboo shoots, seemingly studying the people around her.  I just watched for a few minutes until the crowd that had been watching the Red Panda feeding came around the corner and the peace was shattered.

Yes, it was raining, and yes it was a theme park but seeing that Panda made the trip worthwhile. 

I saw other marine life, before getting on a train that would take me to the top of the mountain. This was decorated like something from a Jules Verne novel, and as we pulled out the windows changed to videos of us diving underwater with fish and dolphins swimming by. Soon we were attached by a giant squid, and the train shook with its hits. The kids loved it, and I thought it was clever was of keeping them amused on what otherwise would have been a boring underground trip.  

When we emerged at the top it was noticeably more crowded than down below. This appeared to be because all the rides were up here and the queues snaked all around. I walked around hoping for more exhibits or aquariums, but I guess they were all down the mountain. Instead I walked to a viewing platform that gave magnificent views of Aberdeen. 

As it was now mid-afternoon and the rain seemed only to be increasing I decided that I would make way home to the hotel. I joined the queue for the cable cars which took an age to progress. When I finally got to the front, I joined two other foreigners in a gondola that looked suspiciously like a birdcage. These were nothing like those on Lantau Island as they were open to the elements and would sway in the wind.

The views were great and must be even better when the rain isn’t obscuring them. Every now and again the gondolas would stop dead for a minute or so and just be swinging in the breeze. Each time this happened the three of us would grin at each other in an ‘everythings cool’ kind of way. Hey, what could happen we were only in birdcage swinging in the wind of an approaching typhoon. Everything of course was cool and I enjoyed my trip down the mountain. 

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Another day and another country today as after yesterdays cancellation I was given the choice of a refund, or taking a different trip. I chose the latter and that his how I found myself on a fast ferry heading for Macau. 

My party today consisted of myself and four other people. Two Germans who spoke no English; and two Chinese who were evidently friends with the Germans as they were chatting to them in German, and they also spoke no English. 

I introduced myself, and said guttentarg and offered my hand. All four just stared at me, and then closed back into a circle resuming their conversation. I then heard the German man something followed by ‘Union Jack’ before they all burst into laughter. 

Charming! 

I had a little difficulty in immigration as I did not have a landing card. The officer insisted that I would have been given one onboard the boat, but I hadn’t been. No matter, I was eventually given one which I filled out and went through to find the group. When I found them the guide asked why I’d been delayed. I explained about customs, and she in turn translated it to Cantonese, when was then translated to German. The German woman then reaches into her pocket and pulls out a blank card. She had been sat on the end of our row of seat on the boat, and the steward handed her the cards. She had passed on one to her husband and then kept the other two instead of passing one on to me. 

I was beginning to get a bit fed up of the Germans at this point.  

We hopped onto our bus and our guide introduced herself to us. Her name was Maggie, and spotting her as we were out and about was going to be simple as everything she wore or carried was coloured in various shades of pink. 

Our first stop was the Kun Iam statue. I wish I could tell you about this, but I can’t because the area had been cordoned off by the police in preparation for a celebration that night. We stood near the barrier as Maggie tried to tell us about the significance of the statue, but she was interrupted by a policeman carrying an automatic weapon, and so we thought it best to move on. 

We arrived at a museum dedicated to the history of Macau. This was actually pretty fascinating and managed to hold my attention even if I wanted to be out exploring. The best part of the museum was its grounds. They incorporated some of the original city walls, and this afforded great views of the surrounding city. The city itself is a strange mix. The houses look fairly dilapidated but this is because they are the original colonial buildings. These however are surrounded by ugly concrete tower blocks of the kind that seem to blight every city in the world. Finally then we have the casinos. I imagine they are intended to project an image of wealth and glamour. Maybe in the evening when they are all illuminated they may look enticing, but under the midday sun they were monstrous monuments to greed. A real life example of the pursuit of easy money ruining all it touches.   

From the museum we walked to the ruins of St. Pauls. The area was awash with tourists pushing and shoving each other on the steps of the ruins as they attempted to get photos of themselves in front of the church. Whilst the ruins are an impressive sight, I slipped away from the group and the crowds, heading down the steps into the square. Here I bought a drink and found a place to sit and watch the people go by.

 It was nice to have these few moments of contemplation, and I really should do it more often when I’m travelling. Generally I’m so caught up with trying to get the best picture or trying to see everything that I don’t take in as much as I should. Its only when I get back to my room, or sometimes once I get home  and look at the photos I’ve taken that I realise – ‘hey, you’re on the other side of the world’. So this time, I sipped my drink and watched as the people hugged and kissed on the steps, as families pretended to hold up the ruins and as what seemed like a million teenage girls threw gang signs to the cameras. 

Of course as the crowds thinned a little, (little being a relative term in this part of the world) I took a few photos of my own. 

I met back up with the others and we moved on the A-Ma temple. This is one of the oldest Taoist temples in Macau. Here the air was filled with incense which filled the nostrils and caused my eyes to water. I watched as monks tended to the incense sticks, replacing those which had burned down with fresh sticks and spirals. Worshipers would arrive and kneel at the alter offering prayers and blessing. Others would simply write out their wishes onto tags which would then be attached to the relevant sized incense stick dependent upon the size of that wish, and of course the monetary contribution made. 

The temple was a pleasant place, but I was relived to get back into the fresh air away from the incense which I found overpowered all other senses. 

Our bus then collected us and deposited the group at one of the casinos where we were to have lunch. This was frankly excruciating, as the tables sat four people, meaning that I was sat at a table by myself in a large empty room, as the table beside me conversed in German. Halfway through this I was already bored to tears, when an absolutely huge tour party of Chinese tourists came in and filled the rest of the room. Being the only person with a table to myself and not a single person to speak to felt so much worse when it was a full room and not a nearly empty one. 

Thankfully we eventually moved on and headed to the Macau Tower. This is a 338 meter tower that dominates the skyline. We headed up to the observation deck and emerged from the lift just in time to see a body plummeting past the window! Thankfully this wasn’t someone committing suicide, but a bungee jumper. 

The group split up to explore the tower  and I got chatting to Maggie. We chatted about travel and the places we’d been. She wanted to know all about my home, whereas I was more interested in hers. It’s funny how you don’t think of your own home as fascinating to other people because you are so used to it. She then asked where I was going to watch the celebrations that night and I had to confess to being totally clueless about this. As it turned out today was National Day in China, marking the founding of the PRC. This is was it was so busy today, and why the square surrounding the statue earlier had been cordoned off.  That night there would also be huge fireworks displays throughout China, including Macau and Hong Kong. Upon hearing this I just hoped that I’d be back in Hong Kong before the fireworks began. Maggie told me that she had a ticket to a party here in the tower. She was going to get a great view. 

We chatted for a good hour before we had to head back and gather the rest of the group. Maggie said she was sorry for taking all my time in the tower, but I didn’t care at all. As great as the view was, getting to hear her stories and thoughts about Macau was far better then staring out the window for another hour! 

Our final stop of the day was in one of the casinos. Inside it was ridiculous. The area surrounding the casino floor was an indoor canal, complete with gondolas and singing gondoliers. The roof had projections of clouds rolling across it, and the walls and shops were all fashioned in the Venetian style. Maybe I’m just a total curmudgeon, but whilst everyone else stood slack-jawed in amazement, I couldn’t get over how fake and tasteless it was. 

The casino floor itself was an eye-opener. When viewed from above it seemed open planned, but once in their it turned into a genuine labyrinth. Fruit machines would make corridors, which would then come to an abrupt end. Mirror would make it appear as though there were corners where none existed. You’d then find yourself with a seemingly straight route to the exit between two blackjack tables, only to find that the route was actually closed off by immaculately clean and non-reflective glass walls. So effective was this maze that it took about half an hour to clear a straight 100 meters. At one point I was genuinely fearful of missing my bus!   

But I made it out and eventually made it to the meeting point. I was five minutes late and no-one else was there. Thinking they’d left without me I started to look the contact number they’d given me, when another of the group looking very flustered came storming up the corridor, then another, then another. We’d all managed to get lost in the maze of the floor. I knew casinos were designed for maximum client retention, but I didn’t realise it meant literally! 

Onboard the bus for the last time, Maggie and I exchanged e-mail addresses and she made me promise to send her some photos of Guernsey, but also to make sure I watched the fireworks that night. We said our farewells at the harbour and once aboard the boat settled in for the ride home. I must have been exhausted as I just seemed to close my eyes and then suddenly found that we were docking in Hong Kong. 

At my hotel I asked the receptionist where I would be able to see the fireworks display, and what time it started. She told me that the display would be in the harbour, so I could go down to the piers at the waterfront. If I left now I’d probably just make it. Then with a big smile she said that I’d actually have a great view of it from the top of the hotel, or if I had a harbour facing room I’d have the perfect view as we had direct line of sight to the launch platform. 

Not for the first time since I arrived I was thankful for that room upgrade. 

I had just enough time to pop to the grocery store and get a couple of beers and some noodles. Then I headed back to my room and took my place on the windowsill, sipping my beautifully cold beer just as the display started. 

I say display. This was more like a war. Rockets, flashes, huge building shaking booms erupted. The rockets went so high that they left even the tallest buildings in their wake. The show built gradually for 15minutes before the finale – a constant barrage of explosions that lasted a full 5 minutes with not a seconds silence in between. Such was the constant violence of the explosions that I could feel the window starting to pulse. Even here in the air away from the epicentre, I could feel the pressure. This was a truly breathtaking performance in the truest possible sense. 

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I was awoken this morning in a most unpleasant manner by the telephone ringing at 5:30am. Groggily I crawled across my very large bed and dragged myself to the photne. It was the tour company who were calling to tell me that the trip I had booked to see the Pearl Delta had been cancelled due to the Typhoon warning having been raised to Level 3 overnight. 

I looked out the window towards the harbour. Aside from the shipping traffic being heavier than usual I’d have been pressed to tell the difference between this and the previous days. The lack of huge waves and livestock being carried through the air came as something of a disappointment. My expectations of what a typhoon looks like now scaled down somewhat, and with my days plans in tatters I did what any sensible person on holiday should do at 5:30am – I returned to bed.

I awoke later in a much more pleasant manner. For the first time since leaving home I didn’t actually have a plans or any place I needed to be. I sat for a while on the windowsill reading my book and occasionally looking out to the city when the noise of the rain against the window became particularly loud. 

Sometime after lunch the rain seemed to change from crazy to merely heavy and I decided to take my chances outdoors. Thankfully the nearest metro stop was not too far from my hotel and I quickly made my way there cowering under my umbrella. 

My destination was the IFC mall, where I had read that a new flagship Apple store had opened that week. If I was anywhere but Hong Kong, I would have described the mall as busy, but the crowds were noticeably less dense than I had experienced. Indeed for Hong Kong this could be described as deserted. This was because every shop in the mall was closed due to the typhoon. Wondering around, it was hard not to let my imagination run away with me and think of Day of the Dead as the crowds of people shuffled around the closed stores. 

I thought that I would head down to the harbour front, but after only a few meters outside I realised that this would be a bad idea as the wind whipped the rain violently around the streets. Instead I made my way back to the hotel to return to my reading and wait out the storm. 

When I arrived I had an email from Alvina. Because of the typhoon, her plans for the evening had been cancelled and so she was free for the evening before her flight later that night. We arranged to meet at her hotel and then we went out for a meal. By this time the typhoon warning had dropped to level 2 and the city had began to reopen for business. 

We walked as we had the night before, only this time exploring the Kowloon side of the city before returning to her hotel and saying our farewells.

I had one last surprise today as I stopped off at a grocery store on my way home. In the fridge were cans of Breda, a lager which I’d never seen outside of the Channel Islands. I had to buy a can. It would have been rude not to. I drank my Breda in the small hours of that morning watching Spurs vs Shamrock Rovers on the TV. 

It really has become a small world. 

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Hong Kong is a city of structured chaos. 

 

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Cable Car to Ngong Ping Village.

The Buddha dominates the view from the moment that you arrive.

The shear scale of the Buddha is quite mind blowing.

An offering to the Buddha.

The Tian Tan Buddha

The surrounding countryside is breathtaking.

Amid all the tourists, It can be easy to forget that this is a place of worship.

Po Lin Monastery

Dragon statues outside Po Lin Monastery

Po Lin Monastery

The dragon theme continues inside Po Lin Monastery

Right at the end of the day, the sun finally breaks through the cloud cover; bathing Tai O fishing village and the sounding mountains in light.

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After my exploration of Hong Kong Island this morning, this evening I finally headed into the city itself. 

I’d decided to take a tour of the city so that I could orientate myself before heading out by myself. This was going to be done in three parts – by foot around the markets, by open top bus around the city, and then a cruise with dinner and entertainment around the harbour. 

It should have been a simple relaxing evening. But in typical Blakely fashion, it didn’t quite work out that way. 

I went down to the hotel lobby to meet my lift, but was instead met by a young woman who told me that she worked for the company and was getting a lift, but that we would be waiting for a while as the bus was stuck in traffic. So instead we popped back inside and grabbed a table and had a chat. After wearing out the normal civilities and queries about where I come from, she turned the topic of conversation to the one thing that the British are guaranteed to engage in – the weather.

“So. There’s going to be a typhoon later” was her opening gambit. “Eh, really” was my startled reply. As it turns out the typhoon warning was at its third level, the one directly below imminent landfall. The warnings were on TV, on traffic signs and as she pointed out, also in the hotel lobby. Only a total moron could have failed to be aware of the incoming storm.

Being that moron, I excused myself and ran upstairs to grab something I figured I would soon need – my rain jacket, and then outside for our lift had finally arrived. 

Our destination was the market in Temple Street. Stalls line both sides of a narrow street with the stallholders selling pretty much anything imaginable. Synthesised bleeps and whirs from electronic toys, or the hum of hundreds fans add to the cacophony noise generated by shoppers and onlookers alike. 

The gap between the stalls is barely wider then two people standing. This means that you must progress at the speed of the crowd as you join the queue of zombielike shufflers making their way down the street. Occasionally the procession halts as someone ahead suddenly stops as they see an item they want to look at. In the few seconds between this happening and the parade restarting; any stallholder adjacent will seize their opportunity to make their pitch. 

I could not help but take my mind back to Marrakech and the Jemaa el-Fnaa, the giant market square that in the evening changes into a giant open-air festival of food. The places for me seemed to be a microcosm of the two the countries. Both are noisy, crowded and at first overwhelming to the senses. Both are chaotic but it is in chaos that the differences become apparent. In Morocco, the chaos did seem to be just that – chaos. The consensus of the crowd is that the individual rules. It is every man for himself, and if you want to get somewhere then you need to fight for it. But in Hong Kong, if you stand still for a moment and just watch the people it all starts to make sense. There are patterns in the chaos, a politeness or a respect that whilst you are all compressed into a small area that the actual sense of crowding is very little. In Morocco, or indeed London at Christmas, the body feels like it has taken a battering just walking down the road as people career into each other, bumps and knocks picked up from carelessly carried bags and umbrellas. This didn’t seem to happen here. No matter how surrounded you may be, there is always that little bit of space. It is minimal, but it never feels frustrating or threatening. 

It is strange that I don’t really enjoy crowds, or indeed confrontation. However I do really enjoy markets, which really are the apotheosis of crowds. I even enjoy haggling. With a little knowledge it can be a lot of fun. Knowing the rough discount that can be achieved means that you can have a little back and forth with the seller. I love the mock indignation of both parties as they open with one price, and you open with a price that you know is low; but not insultingly so. I think that is the trick. If you offer a stupidly low price at the start, all you do is annoy the seller. I think it sends a message of contempt – that you don’t take them seriously. But that offer that is a little bit low, then it is recognised as part of the game. I think its in my nature that I just like to come to an agreement that works out the best for both parties. 

I made just a single purchase during my visit to the market – an umbrella that folds up and is stored in a fake water bottle. It cost around 50p, and would prove to be an inspired purchase. 

Demonstrating once again my amazing talent for timing; I joined the open-top bus ride just as the heavens opened. 

The typhoon was starting to come in now, with the rain really being whipped in by a strong wind coming in off the harbour. I confess to finding the entire situation hilarious, watching people huddling down into their seats as the wind did its best to rip the small waterproofs directly off of our bodies. But for me, it was just fun. I ride everyday and compared to a rainy winters day this was a walk in the park. 

My only disappointment was that I wasn’t really able to use the camera as the rain made shooting near on impossible was water droplets were plastered to the lens by the wind.

The tour of the city lasted around an hour, and by this time the wind was in full force. The bus deposited us at the harbour and we joined a larger crowd for a cruise on the harbour as well as a meal and entertainment. 

As we were boarding I started talking to a woman named Alvina. She’d just stopped of in Hong Kong for a couple of nights having just spent a month in Japan. To say I was jealous of that experience would be an understatement. We chatted through the meal, and the cruise. The cruise itself wasn’t the best because of the weather, so we decided to get off at the first stop. 

The boat docked, and let us off somewhere on Hong Kong Island.  In truth we had no plan at all, and so we just wandered the streets chatting and exchanging stories about our home and travels.

So in all a pleasant, if unusual evening. One in which I feel I’ve finally started to understand this amazing city. 

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Today I explored Hong Kong Island itself.

The first port of call was the Man Mao Temple. Built in 1847, and undergoing serious renovations in 2011. The temples air was so heavy with incense that it became difficult to breathe. 

I profess to not seeing much of the temple as it was quite literally covered inside and out with bamboo scaffolding. Although there was one moment of levity as it was explained how the temple had two sets of doors. The main entrance to which we would all pass, and a second set just inside which would never be opened lest it let the devils inside. Needless to say on the day I visited these were wide open and covered in newspaper as the frame was repainted. 

Next stop was the Peak Tram. This famously steep railway takes you up to the Peak which is where you’ll get the most spectacular views of Hong Kong. When I arrived the queues were huge, and as the train arrived the crowds surged forward I attempt to get on and bag a seat on the right hand side of the carriage so the views could be enjoyed. However, I feel that it was so overcrowded that no-one really enjoyed the short ride to the top. 

Arriving at the station you are not greeted by a stunning view. What you are presented with is a modern, sterile shopping centre. A huge plaza dominates the top, dotted with all the familiar fast food and coffee shops. But it is only a short walk before you get to experience that view; and what a view it is. 

When I arrived it was still fairly misty, so visibility was not all it could be. But this did not detract, as you look down onto Victoria Harbour and across in Kowloon.

I confess to immediately looking for those skyscrapers that I can see from my hotel window and using these to zero in on my own location. It was then that it struck me that Hong Kong is actually a remarkably compact city, one that is compressed into a small area and has grown vertically rather than becoming a sprawling metropolis.  

It’s also the first time that I’ve questioned my decision to bring just a single 35mm lens with me as there is just so much that could be taken in with a wide-angle, or viewed in detail with a telephoto.

Truth be told, if you have no interest in the shopping or cafes, there is not really a lot to do once you’ve grown accustomed to the view. It is certainly worth a visit, but I wouldn’t make it the priority of a trip.

Next I made the winding trip down to Aberdeen Harbour, where I boarded a small boat known as a sampan and took in a trip around the harbour weaving in an out between the ultra expensive yachts and cruisers and the ramshackle house boats owned by the fishermen. 

We also passed the Jumbo Kingdom, a floating restaurant that I’d quite like to visit but is a bit out of my way for someone eating on his own.

My last port of call was Stanley where there is a famous market selling mainly clothes and souvenirs from what I could see. Much of this was dedicated to t-shirts poking fun various world leaders; including  Obama dressed in a Chinese workers uniform which I found quite amusing. 

I bought a couple of ‘jade’ dragons, soon to be destined for the top of my iMac, and retreated to a bar along the seafront for some shade and a most refreshing pint.

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Today turned out to be a very strange days travel. 

It started normally enough, with a shower before making my way outside with plenty of time for my pickup. But as I got downstairs I was told that my lift had left about 20 minutes before, and I should ring the tour company ASAP. 

During a pretty stressful phonecall, it emerged that I had been provided with a pickup time that was 40 minutes later than the one that the driver had been given. I was very unhappy with the attitude of the person I spoke to at the office, who first suggested that it was my own error (despite having evidence to the contrary), and then informing me that there was nothing that they could do and I would not be able to do the tour. 

All this 20 minutes before the time that I was expecting to be picked up. 

After a little negotiation – mainly my threat to contact Visa and have all payments that I had made to the company disputed and reversed they finally acquiesced and allowed me to at least attempt to join up with the tour party. 

So it was that I found myself in the back of a taxi heading for the train station to meet a guy named Jamie so that I could catch the express train to Shenzhen.  I got out my phone as soon as I arrived, dialled his number and the phone of the man stood next to me rang. It would appear I’d located Jamie. He then told me that there was no hurry and that we had at least 20 minutes before the train departed, and if I wanted to grab some breakfast from a shop then I had plenty of time. 

Munching on my hastily bought panini I explained the issues of the morning to Jamie and he gave me a response that in retrospect was pretty chilling – “don’t worry it happens a lot”! 

Well, at least I was here now and could just sit back and relax until we reached Shenzhen. 

There were about 15 other people with us, mainly Australian and Kiwi visitors who were much more pleasant then the hen party of yesterday. I got chatting and did the now traditional explanation of Guernsey and its location in the world. Only this time one of the Aussies had actually heard of Guernsey. 

I knew what was coming next; it always comes next - the tax question.

I’m seriously considering getting leaflets printed so that I can just hand them out when I’m next faced with The Question. 

Jamie then came and sat next to me and explained that the other guests would only be with me for the first hour or two. They were here on a shopping trip, whilst I was here for a cultural trip. This would mean that I would be on my own for the afternoon and evening; but not to worry as they had arranged a personal tour guide for me who would join us in China. My reaction to this was fantastic. I’ll get to have a chat with someone from China and have access to them that I wouldn’t be able to have in a group. 

We crossed over the border into China. A painlessly simple process that did fill me with a little disappointment as it was explained that as we were on a group visa they would not be stamping my passport. But, but, but I want my passport stamped; I felt like crying. It’s bad enough travelling through Europe and not getting a single stamp. But arriving in China and not getting a stamp just felt unfair. To they not understand that to us weirdo’s that want to visit as many places as possible that passport stamps are like drugs?

Leaving the station I felt hit by a wave of humidity and heat. Shenzhen it was fair to say was hot. Very hot. The second thing I noticed was that most of the buildings were tall, as in Hong Kong. But looked cleaner and newer. As it turned out this was pretty much the case. Twenty odd years ago Shenzhen was a small fishing town, with a population of around 20,000 people. Today it is one of the fastest growing cities in the world with a growing population upwards of 14,000,000 people. This is because Shenzhen had been declared a Special Economic Zone by the Chinese government. Specifically to try and drive this sort of rapid growth and attract business to the area. 

Shenzhen is now one of the worlds largest manufacturing hubs. Primarily specialising in the assembly of electronic goods. With companies such as Foxconn having large hubs here. This has led to one of the more unusual situations in China – a country that has a surplus of men when compared to woman. However in Shenzhen woman are the primary recruits as they work on the assembly lines, whereas men do more manual work. This means that the female/male ratio is around 7:1. 

Even I fancy those odds! 

Our first stop was the Diwang Commercial Centre, or more specifically the 69th floor where there is an observation deck. This gave us a spectacular view of the city, with highrises stretching away into the mist. 

At the top of the tower is something quite unexpected – a waxwork of Margret Thatcher. Thatcher is immortalized together with her Chinese counterpart  Chairman Deng Xiaoping (who was introduced with solemnity as ‘the dear leader, Deng Xiaoping’) as they negotiated the Sino-British Joint Declaration regarding the handover of Hong Kong back to Chinese rule. The guide at the tower said to me that Thatcher was held in great esteem, and asked if this is the still the view in Britain. I tried to give a diplomatic answer. But the look I received after I did not give anything but unequivocal praise to the former Prime Minister made me feel like I had surprised them by suggesting that people in Britain may not universally admire her. 

Escaping I was then introduced to Rosie who was to be my guide for the rest of the day. We were dropped off at what was described as a Theme Park. This was called Splendid China, and was not a theme park in the way that Westerners would recognize one. 

Splendid China is basically a series of miniature versions of Chinese landmarks connected by beautifully landscaped gardens and paths. Very pretty, but not really what I was expecting on my ‘cultural tour’. But as I had Rosie with me, I envisaged picking her brain about Shenzhen and hearing what she thought about her country. Unfortunately, this was not to be. 

We entered the park, and Rosie handed me a map and told me to meet her back at this spot in a couple of hours. Er, ok but what I supposed to be doing. She sighed and waved a hand dismissively. ‘Just be back here’. Ok, fine but what is this place? She then told me about the miniature landmarks, and I could rent an electric car to drive myself around the park. I took one look at these cars which looked suspiciously like invalid carriages I said that I would walk. Another dismissive wave later, one which would suggested I could fly as far as she was concerned and she’s turned on her heel and walked off in the opposite direction. 

So I stood in the middle of the entrance, with my guest map written in Cantonese, the signposts written in Cantonese no grasp of the language and even unsure if I’m able to spend Hong Kong Dollars here. I looked around and did what I always do when I’m unsure where to go – went left. 

As I’ve said the park itself was attractive. But I came to realize three things as I made my way around. 

1. It was hot. Very hot. Hot enough for the locals to all be sat on benches, umbrellas in one hand, fans in the other. If there is one thing I’ve learnt it is that when the locals are wilting then you have no chance. 

2. It must have been either the start or the end of season because everything was closed up. Stalls, amusements, shops all boarded up and closed. 

3. No matter how fascinating the exhibits, it was me that was the center of attention. 

At first I thought I was imagining it. But out of the corner of my eye I’d see people stand up as I walked by and stare at me. Then it became a little more obvious, then it became bloody obvious. People were quite literally stopping in their tracks and grabbing for their camera or grabbing friends as they pointed at me.  It was a very odd sensation. It didn’t feel unsafe or even particularly rude as it was obvious even to me that this was purely fascination. Just particularly unsubtle fascination. 

I fixed what I hoped was a friendly smile onto my face as I didn’t want to give off any vibes of being uncomfortable under all the scrutiny, but I was starting to wish that I could walk without the stares for one reason – it was so hot that my shirt was starting to get wet through and stick to me which was making me feel more self-conscious than any amount of pointing had done so. That pretty much anyone I passed also had huge dark sweat stains didn’t seem to occur to me. 

I found a nice shady place to sit for a while and finally found a use for my map as I folded it and turned it into a makeshift fan. I was starting to blend in with the locals already! 

Making my way back to meet Rosie, the sun started to drop which in turn led me to another two conclusions. First that I wasn’t going to get back before it was completely dark, and secondly that it wasn’t getting any cooler. In fact it was actually getting hotter! 

I met Rosie who asked if I’d really been walking around the park, and when I answered in the affirmative it turned out to be the end of the conversation as she turned and told me to follow her. 

Where she led me was to a large dining hall, where I was seated at a table that could easily have seated twelve or more. This was in the center of the room and surrounded by similar tables, only these were all packed with other diners. After taking my seat I looked around for Rosie, but she had disappeared once again. I sat for a good five minutes at the empty table before a waitress turned up with a huge jug filled with tea, poured an eggcup sized cup and handed it to me before putting the jug onto the table and fading back into the crowd. Rosie then reappeared and said that he had ordered food and it will come soon. 

Evidently not learning from experience I still half expected her to pull up one of the chairs and take a seat. But no sooner had she finished speaking then she was gone. The waitress reappeared with a small rice bowl and chopsticks. She was followed by a chef carrying a huge bowl of boiled rice who then set it down on the table. People on the surrounding tables started staring at me, and then the giant bowl and then behind me. I soon realized why. The waitress reappeared with another huge bowl, this time filled with soup and a large plate of what looked to be pork in a sweet and sour sauce. 

Each of the bowls and plates held enough food to feed a good six of seven people on their own. Yet the waitress had reappeared with another plate of what turned out to be beef with onions. 

People were now staring open mouthed at this apparent display of gluttony. 

It slowly occurred to me what was happening. 

My tour company would likely have had a standing order for a reserved table, with a set menu. The restaurant was likely just bringing out the standard order, but Rosie must have neglected to mention that there was just one person.  I was tucking in when Rosie reappeared and went ballistic . Not because of the amount of food. No, it was because I hadn’t been given western cutlery. She grabbed the waitress and started berating her. The waitress quite reasonably pointed to the food and me which was quite obvious she was saying he’s doing OK without. I was repeatedly telling Rosie that I was fine and I can use chopsticks, but she told me that I didn’t have to, and in the end I had to demonstrate to her that I was able to use them before she left the poor waitress alone. Then watching for a few seconds to make sure that I suddenly hadn’t lost the ability to use chopsticks when then burst out into applause and walked away again.  

If I hadn’t been self conscious already, I was now as half the restaurant had stopped to watch this little display. Then I noticed the eyes focus behind me again. My heart fell as I watched another three dishes appear before me.  The photo above doesn’t show even half of what I ended up with in front of me. The beef and pork were great and I made sure to try at least a little of everything which helped cement my opinion that bean curd is rank.

Rosie then reappeared to tell me that she would come back in 40 minutes to take me to the show. Show? Turns out my evenings entertainment would be a dance display. I said that I was full, and that I’d like to go for a walk rather than waiting here. She then bemoaned my ‘waste of food’ and ‘not finishing it all’. I genuinely don’t know if she was serious, or if this was her being humorous. Either way, the only way I’d physically be able to get all of it into me would be with the aid of a scalpel and strategically placed cuts in the stomach area.

I went for a short walk and found the most amazingly lit pagoda and bridge. Which I stopped at and took photos of until it was time to head back to Rosie. 

The dance show was surprisingly good. A whole company featuring acrobats, gymnasts, animals, fireworks and an amazing rig that simulated a waterfall. 

I didn’t have a clue what was going on, but the show was thoroughly entertaining.  Youtube proved a bit of a dry well, but I did manage to find the below clip. 

Finally it was time to return to Hong Kong, and say goodbye to Rosie. I felt we’d really become close during our time together….. OK, not really. But despite the weirdness of the day, I’d actually had a really good day. It was a shame that I was pretty much clueless throughout it, but somehow I feel that being dumped in the middle of somewhere with no way to communicate may have been more fun then being part of a large group. It was certainly a strange way to get my first experience of China. 

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Normally when I go on one of these trips, the beds in my hotel tend to have one thing in common – mattresses that are so soft that they could be folded in two with a single hand. My mattress here is the exact opposite, to call it firm would be a disservice to firmness. 

It has only marginally more give than solid concrete, barely denting with my entire bodyweight on it. That suits me just fine as it reminds me of my old Japanese style futon, only more comfortable. 

Waking early, my body was screaming that it should not be up yet as it is still on UK time and thus ready for bed not getting up.

I met with a tour group to go to Lantau Island, first meeting at the Avenue of Stars in Kowloon. Just like the Hollywood walk of fame, this was made up of handprints set into the path, and in this case dominated by Jackie Chan. However, my own interest was centered on the skyline of Hong Kong Island across the water .

We then headed to a place that bored the hell out of me, a jewelry manufacturer that wasn’t in the script but was ‘added value’. The only thing it really added to was the weight of my boredom threshold. 

There was a group of Australian woman on the tour who were to put it simply ghastly. They were exactly the sort of people that you don’t want representing your nationality when abroad, something re-enforced by another Aussie couple who were at pains to point out that they weren’t all like that. So what made them so ghastly? Well it could have been that they were the loudest people around, continuingly talking over the guide (and she had a microphone), were consistently late at every stop, the delight they took in their ignorance or the barely disguised racism sprouting from their wide open, overfed mouths. But what I think really topped it of was the 45 minute discussion conducted in loud clear voices about their menstrual cycles. They shared with the bus every conceivable detail… everything. My honest thought was that despite the tour being conducted in English, they saw all the Asian faces and assumed that no-one could understand what they were talking about.

After the coach journey we arrived at the station for the Ngong Ping 360 cable car. A 25 minute ride up the mountain to the landing centre and the Tian Tan Buddha. This was something that I had been looking forward to ever since booking the trip.

I’d paid a little extra so that I could get a glass bottomed gondola, and it did not disappoint. The view proving spectacular, even covered in the mid morning mist. The first glance of the Buddha is breathtaking, with him appearing from around the mountain. The shear size causing it to stand out on the landscape even from some distance away.

I made my way to the Buddha, and paid my respects. After all, despite being a tourist attraction it was still a religious site, which is why is was quite galling to watch the Aussies trying to climb the surrounding statues to get a better view of the area.

Lunch was eaten nearby. A vegetarian feast,  starting with some mushroom and sweetcorn soup, which when finished the bowl became the dish for the foot. Beautifully spiced and stir-fried veg came out, peppers, onions, rice, spring rolls. All delicious with the one exception. I’m afraid no matter how much I try, I’m just not going to be able to develop a taste for bean curd.

The Aussies, instead of tucking in decided instead to complain loudly about the lack of meat and western cutlery.  Knives and forks were produced for them, and I as the only other westerner nearby was offered some as well. Great I thought, now they think I’m with them. By this point I couldn’t be more fed up of them if I tried so I made my way to the Po Lin Monastery.

The temple is a beautiful building and looks amazing decorated with intricate carvings and painted in green, red and gold. The air was heavy with incense, and it immediately felt peaceful as the few other visitors made their way around.

“Fuck it smells in here”, Yeah, fucking pongs”. I didn’t even need to look to know who it was. I just sat and tried to pretend that they weren’t there. I barely even flinched as I heard the loud ‘blong’ noise where of the number had just kicked over a bronze container on the floor. “well it’s a fucking stupid place to leave it…” is what I heard on the way out.

A monk smiled at me and said that whilst not visitors are peaceful or respectful they do bring money which will be used to maintain the monastery and build others with can help them take Buddhism to newer places, so all are still welcome. It was really at that moment that I knew I’d never be able to be as tolerant as that monk is. He was taken it in stride, even though it was his home. I felt ashamed for the lack of respect shown.

Next we made our way down to a small fishing village where the houses were on stilts. This was obviously a working village with everyone hard at work sorting, drying or selling their catches.  I went for a walk with our guide who said she would show me a good spot to get photos of the stilts. We chatted briefly about her job, and that she enjoyed it very much and she got to see people that were happy because they were on holiday and not sad because they were working.

We walked back slowly through the village in the now blazing sunshine, Jolie now using her umbrella as a parasol. She told me I should buy one and always keep it with me. A kind of Hong Kong Hitchhikers towel if you like. 

Near the entrance to the village we heard a commotion. The two of the largest and loudest Aussies were haranguing a storekeeper calling her disgusting, sick and more names along those lines. What had provoked this? An attempted rip off on a transaction, name calling, theft? No. It was far more stupid.

We were informed that the villagers kept their livestock in the front of the stalls. This was true, as each building had lots of produce outside. Mainly dried fish. But some of these were selling live fish, or shellfish. It was outside one of these that the commotion was taking place. But what was different about this stall?

Laying beside the was a large dog,  some sort of mongrel but about the size of a great dane. It lay on the ground,  sunning itself. He wore a collar and a name tag, and he was tied to the stall by a length of rope. A half drank bucket of water near his head, and I was amused to note a huge bag of Pedigree Chum tucked under the stalls trellis.

Our heroes thought process was thus. 

These stalls sell live food

All the food is on the trellis

The dog is alive

The dog is tied to the trellis

The dog is to be sold for food

Jolie calmed everything down explaining the obvious that the dog was not livestock but a pet.

I wanted to cry.

My last stop was to head back down the mountain in the cable car. This time it was even better as the sun had burned away the mist and I could see for miles. I could see fishermen wading in the water below, and an amazing view of the airport where the planes were taking off and landing parallel to us.

In all a really pleasant day made all the more pleasurable but knowing I never have to see the Aussies again.

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Hong Kong Island Bus Tour - iPhone.m4v Watch on Posterous

We're currently awaiting a typhoon to make landfall here in HK. The alerts went up last night, and so I did what any normal person would do in that situation - go on an open top tour of the city.

Other guest were not enjoying in, but I have to say I loved every second. As a motorcyclist, I experience worse every day during the winter!

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Sampan Trip Aberdeen.m4v Watch on Posterous

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IMG_1256.MOV Watch on Posterous

Sent from my iPhone

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Cable Cars.m4v Watch on Posterous

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