My plane landed in Hong Kong around 5:30 AM their time, which is 16 hours ahead of California. My flight for Malaysia didn’t leave until 3 PM, so I had some time to actually see more than the inside of an airport. Fortunately I had done some research. This sort of thing is so common that the Hong Kong Tourism Board has an interactive web tool where you just enter the time your flight gets in, the time your next flight leaves, then select from a list of interests, and it generates an itinerary for you. It’s so complete that it tells you exactly where to walk, what bus to get on, how much it will cost, how long it will take, just everything I thought I needed to know.
So I left the airport via train. The train was everything you’ve ever heard about trains in Asia. It was fast, efficient, smooth, quiet, and very clean. It dropped me off in downtown Hong Kong and from there I was to walk to the Central Piers and take bus 15C. I found my way there but the bus didn’t start running until 10AM (strike one for my handy dandy itinerary), so I took a taxi to my destination, The Peak.
I was struck by how hilly Hong Kong is. I should have known that, having noticed it in the background of John Woo and Jackie Chan movies, but driving up the hills in the foggy morning impressed on me how similar Hong Kong is to San Francisco in climate and geography. The Peak afforded great views of the city and Victoria Bay.
By this time it was 9 AM and time to move on. That’s when I realized that my itinerary had detailed info on how to get to attractions, but nothing on how to get back from them. Oops, I hadn’t noticed that. I took the Peak Tram down the hill, hoping to find an open bus stop, some taxis, or at least something interesting within walking distance. It put a smile on my face to realize that I was striking out into a foreign city, knowing not one word of the language, without any real plan.
Wandering by foot I found a “you are here” style city map that got me going in my intended direction. I had the vague notion to do some shopping in the Central district, and have some dim sum, but I had nothing particular in mind to buy (man I really should have talked to Sean first) and no idea where to find good dim sum. I figured I could just stumble into something.
My hike through the city took me through parks and past a cathedral. I was struck overall by how much Christianity was present. Given the British influence I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I just didn’t expect to see a big “God Is Love” banner in the lobby of an office building.
Hong Kong’s Central district is the teeming, lit up, bustling metropolis you see in movies. But I wanted to shop in the dingy little crowded bazaars you also see in movies. I didn’t have to go far. Just a block or two off the main drag and you’ll walk into the set of a different movie. As 10 AM approached, little shops were opening up for the day selling things I’ve never seen. There was a little booth with a man chopping up ingredients, cigarette hanging from his lips, and almost an inch of ashes hanging precariously from the cigarette. I decided not to eat there. There was a restaurant with a whole pig hanging in the middle, visible from the street, with a man carving from its shanks. Several restaurants specialized in medicinal foods, herbal teas and soups intended more for health than taste.
Perhaps you’ve seen in movies shops that sell medicinal herbs, often kept behind the counter in wooden drawers that look like old fashioned post office boxes? I walked into several of those, some that seemed very upscale, and a couple that looked like Uncle Egg might work behind the counter.
After a while I realized that I was lost, good and lost. I had lost all sense of direction and had no idea how to get back to the Airport Express station. I asked a policeman to point me in the right direction. Fortunately English is widely spoken, and he gestured me along. With that help and more from a friendly, English-speaking stranger, I make it back to the train in plenty of time.
