The Extraordinary Vertical City of Hong Kong

During over a month’s worth of traveling, it is always a welcoming relief when familiar faces greet you along the way. After exiting the express train that delivered us from the airport to Hong Kong’s Central Station, two very familiar faces were there waiting for us: MK’s son Clark and his girlfriend Emily. They wasted no time in introducing us to the city that is their home. 

Thanks to their intimate knowledge of this Chinese city, we were able to delve deeply into it where we could see many areas both on and off the tourist trail. Along with Emily’s fluent Cantonese, used to instruct taxi drivers and order from restaurant menus we couldn’t even begin to decipher, we were able to navigate the customs, culture, hilltops, busy streets, and back alleys in a way few tourists could ever imagine. This is not to say that visitors would have a difficult time here (English is widely spoken), it’s just that many opportunities open up when you know someone in the city or country you are visiting.

First Day

The myriad of colorful fishing boats, junks, and barges, finished with their work for the day, bobbed in the bay at Cheung Chau, an island about 20 kilometers away from the busy ports in Hong Kong’s Victoria Harbor. Our ferry weaved among them as it made port at this popular little island. We had joined many of the locals who had ideas similar to ours, namely to take a late afternoon trip to the island to stroll its foreshore and have a meal at one of the many restaurants that lined its principal street.

After our return ferry, we took a train to the Wan Chai neighborhood where Clark and Emily live and near where we were staying for the next four days. Market stalls filled many of the streets, crowding out the permanent storefronts located behind them.

Here, you can buy anything: clothes, food, flowers, vegetables - whatever you might need. Do you want fish? Someone will pull one from a tank, gut it, and scale it right on the spot as evidenced by the slimy water filled with fish scales lying stagnant at the street-side curb. Need a chicken for tonight’s pot? Live ones are in cages, waiting for you to choose which one will soon meet its demise with a beheading and feather plucking. Need to buy fabric for your daughter’s wedding dress while you wait? Go ahead, since the stall right next door has what you’re looking for. Pre-dinner appetizers? The stall across the lane has what you need (pig snout, tongue, or anus anyone?).

Above us, high rise office towers and apartment complexes, all competing for space on the limited and highly priced land, find a way to squeeze themselves between the hills and the harbor’s waters. The density of these buildings and the population that lives within them is overwhelming. Consider this statistic: Hong Kong’s population of just over 7,000,000 people is spread out on only 100 square miles, or 70,000 people per square mile. By comparison, Chicago’s urban area population of 9,000,000 people or so live on 2,600 square miles, or 3,400 people per square mile.

The skyline of this vertical city, impressive in the daylight hours when we arrived, became an illuminated palette of colors when evening’s darkness descended.

From the Heights and Down to the City

One of Hong Kong’s popular hikes is up in the surrounding hills along the Dragon’s Back trail, named because of the way the trail undulates along the spiny ridge line far above the hustle and bustle of busy Hong Kong. We made our way to this trail the following morning and found it crowded with other like-minded day trippers. Although the weather was hazy, we were still able to enjoy the views of the city and harbor far down below.

As we descended via a back way, the crowds thinned out. We arrived at shoreline and the small village of Shek O, located on the quiet backside of Hong Kong island. The French restaurant where we had lunch was patronized by many - ready for this? - French ex pats. Due to unemployment and other issues back home, they are flocking to Hong Kong in ever increasing numbers to work at one of the 800 or so French companies that have located here. 

Alfred, one of the friendliest taxi drivers you will ever encounter, drove us back to the central business district, chatting and smiling the entire way. Along the route Emily pointed out how the hundreds, if not thousands, of domestic workers we saw spend their Sundays. Almost all of them are granted the day off from their toils as housekeeper, cook, daycare provider, and servant for many HK families. Not having a home to go back to (they’re mostly from the Philippines and Indonesia, Alfred noted, working here in conditions better than back home where their families live and survive on the wages those here in HK send to them), they gather on the streets, in the subways, and beneath the underpasses to catch up with friends, gossip, and learn of any news on what is happening back in their home country.

We left the taxi behind and began our tour of the CBD on foot. At Lan Kwai Fong, Clark pointed out the night spots that, while quiet at this late afternoon hour, are a raucous meeting place for the drinking and partying crowd later in the evening. At nearby Antique Street, you can buy both ancient, high priced relics or flea market quality junk from the dustbins of history (any one need a Walkman or a vinyl record of Burt Bacharach’s Greatest Hits?).

Instructive sign in a public toilet, just in case you forgot how

In a quiet lane, we paused at a shop selling snakes used for soup and Chinese medicines. The lady behind the counter paid us no attention as we looked over the “merchandise”, mindful of the stretched- out legs of the snoozing husband. A little further away, the smell of incense drew us into the Man Mo Temple, one of several temples that survive among and adjacent to the modern skyscrapers and office towers located right next door.

We separated from Clark so that he could get ready for his flag football game. We took one of the city’s numerous trams and arrived at the Happy Valley Racetrack, an all-turf horse racing facility. Unlike similar tracks in the U.S. where the infield is an open, under-utilized green space, here, where every inch of available ground is put to some use, the infield is covered with sports facilities and playing fields. It was at one of these fields that Clark and his team were preparing for their game.

I briefly got separated from the girls as we exited the tram. Thankfully, they looked back after taking a break from their chitter-chatter. Emily saw me far back in the pack of the strolling humanity saying that here in HK, it is easy to spot any tall Caucasians in the crowd. “And a balding Caucasian at that!” I added. “Well….”, Emily said smiling. She turned and led us toward the playing fields. If she said anything further, I couldn’t hear it amidst the din of traffic.

Clark’s team went undefeated during the season. That is, until we arrived. Their winning record had them playing in the final league championship game. Unfortunately, they came out on the losing end of the final score. However, Clark was awarded a trophy for the most touchdowns by any player in the league.

Later at Causeway Bay, Hong Kong’s answer to New York’s Times Square, we marveled at the illuminated and animated signs that lit up the streets so brightly, it was as if it were daytime. Soon, we found ourselves at a Korean BBQ restaurant where we finished the night with more of the adventurous eating Clark and Emily were exposing us to.

A Day with Emily

Monday was a workday for Clark but a day off for Emily. Wanting to get in some good exercise, we were off to the ridge-line trail at Lion’s Rock park in the Kowloon section of Hong Kong. The taxi driver was unfamiliar with where the park was far up in the hills. Even after Emily’s pressing and urgent Cantonese, he still didn’t know the way and dropped us off far above where the trailhead began. We had to backtrack a bit back down the road where we eventually found the trailhead, being sure not to anger the nearby monkeys along the way who aggressively guarding their food source at curb-side trash bin.

The climb up to the ridge was steep. The weather was very humid. With the combination of the two, we were drenched in sweat in no time. A man with a camera, one of the most cheerful and happy persons you could meet, stopped us as we passed. He couldn’t help himself and without asking took selfies with MK and Emily. “Boo-tee-full,” he said in his broken English. He must have been referring to the girls since he didn’t seem interested in taking a selfie with me.

Signs warned us to be careful near the cliffs. People have fallen getting to close to the edge (victims of more selfies apparently).  Our hard work getting to the top was all worthwhile. The views back down toward the city were impressive. Interesting in that as high up as we were, we could still hear the hum of traffic far below.

After several hours, and the loss of much of our bodily fluids, our death march came to an end as we descended down below for rest and repast. At lunch and later while we walked through Kowloon, I found interest in the people’s faces. As I have found elsewhere throughout the world, this is oftentimes as interesting as the cities and countries themselves.

At one of the many food stands that dot the streets, a man hawked his durian fruit, cutting slices on the spot for those who for mysterious reasons like to eat it. Why is it mysterious? It’s because they eat it despite its foul and appalling smell. It smells like sewage, really shitty sewage. It’s so bad that there are signs back in our hotel room that say you will get fined a hefty sum to clean the room if you choose to consume it while there.

The iconic Star Ferry took us back across the harbor in the late afternoon. According to Wikipedia, this iconic ferry system includes 12 boats taking two routes and carrying 70,000 passengers a day. And they carry not just tourists, but normal everyday commuters between Hong Kong island and Kowloon on the mainland

After this long day, we were wiped out, knackered as they say. But first we joined up with Clark after his day’s work and had a delicious Chinese dumpling dinner and then a couple of beers while gazing at the colorful nighttime skyline.

A Day with Clark

We had been traveling for over a month and our breakfasts had remained simple: oatmeal and yogurt. So, it was with relish that I dug into my first big brekkie at a small restaurant down a back alley that Clark introduced us to. Today, Clark was going to be our tour guide while Emily had to work due to unavoidable meetings and appointments. 

We first visited Hong Kong Park, one of the city’s few open spaces, a green respite from the urban chaos that surrounds it. Nearby was the station for a cable car that led to Victoria Peak far above. While the queue for tickets was relatively short, we decided to forgo this mechanized way to the top and chose to walk instead. “Why take the easy way, right?” MK said to me. It was a phrase oft repeated to each other over the many years of trekking and hiking.

The climb up was a long, slow, and sweaty affair. Stairs and pavement sliced their way through the greenery of the hillsides. Switchbacks helped cut some of the steepness. Elegant homes, perched aside the cliffs, were seen along the way. Clark pointed out the one mansion that was by far the largest. A group of guys he knew had rented it at one time and threw a larger party that he and Emily had been invited to.

Other than a young man walking four rambunctious dogs (likely owned by some of the rich residing in these homes), we were the only ones walking the route. We found out why once we reached the top. It seems everyone there had ether taken the cable car or arrived via taxi or bus.

Sometimes though, the reward of reaching the top is more fulfilling when one uses their own sweat and toil to get there. And fulfilling it was indeed. The views of the city down below were stunning. Being above the skyscrapers, we felt dominant over the mass of humanity and man’s engineering that otherwise dwarfed and humbled us when walking amongst it on the streets down below.

The platform from which we viewed this scene was relatively new. Clearly, it was built after some of the elaborate mansions that shared this view were first erected. Some had to keep their blinds drawn since those of us on the viewing platform would be able to clearly see into their living rooms. It appeared that some of the others, costing millions to build, were no longer so desirable due to their views now being blocked. “Honey, how’s the view today? “I don’t know, let me open the drapes to take a look….HEY!!!...What the f….!”

Back down on earth, we roamed the streets of Kowloon. At Haiphong Road, a warren of alleys and passageways led to a small but apparently very popular den of noodle shops and eateries. While Clark is known not to shy away from trying new places to eat, he said that one would have to be very adventurous to try the food in this place. “I don’t think my American stomach could handle it,” he told us as we weaved our way around the stalls and small tables.

Unlike like the park on the island side of the harbor, the one we later walked to here on the Kowloon side had more interest and variety. This was especially the case with the aviaries. An explosion of pink dominated a lagoon where a flock of dozens of flamingos primped and preened. Elsewhere, strange birds, noted for their rhinoceros-like beaks, posed for pictures while perched on their roosts.

Further along, we arrived at Chungking Mansions with its unassuming entrance that belied its sordid insides. It’s a place full of shops and stands where anything goes, accordingly to Clark and backed by some of the guidebooks that describe the place. Money changers, counterfeit goods and knock-offs, prostitutes, drug deals, and cheap rooms for rent (by the day or by the hour) can be found here. And that’s after you first have to run the gauntlet of touts trying to get you to buy their watches, phones, suits, bowls of curried rice, and wretched meat-like dishes.

-         -      -      -

We later finished the evening, and our trip, by listening to Clark’s band at an open mic session in the nightlife section of the CBD. He set the rhythm with his bass guitar while he and his band-mates played original songs and a cover or two. Members were a Frenchman on the drums, a Spaniard on the keyboard, a Brit for the vocals and rhythm guitar, and an American, Clark, on the bass.

While listening, I was struck by this variety and diversity of the band and how it was representative of the variety and diversity we experienced over the past six weeks of travel. It is what makes travel so enjoyable and interesting to us. It is why we will continue to seek out these journeys in the future.