Travel|Photography

A Different Corner: My First Morning in Hong Kong

All I had to do was to follow some simple instructions…

I see the woman dump her newspaper into the bin. The man, who was following her, leans forwards over the same bin and spits. Further on, the same woman reaches into another bin and picks out something else to read…

I’m in Central station. I’ve just arrived from Fortress Hill via the MTR (Mass Transit Railway); it’s still early but rush hour is easing.

I’ve decided to start my first full day in Hong Kong with a guided walk, courtesy of the Lonely Planet guide (2016) I have loaded onto my phone.

The guide suggests a stroll in Central that promises to have me “Exploring Hong Kong’s Heart”.

At only 1.5km and a 45-minute duration, the walk seemed easily manageable — even for me and my dodgy knee.

I look for the exit into Statue Square.

Again, the heat. It wraps and smothers me as soon as I leave the coolness of the station.

There is only one statue in Statue Square. There used to be more but that was before the Japanese occupation during the Second World War.

Now, it’s the HSBC (Hong Kong and Shanghai Banking Corporation) headquarters that dominates the square, towering over the statue of Sir Thomas Jackson, one of the bank’s earliest managers.

Although the steel structure is impressive, I didn’t photograph it. I do make my way around the square shooting the other tall buildings and a few of the locals minding their own business, but the HSBC building evades capture.

After a few minutes, I start my walk.

After cutting across Chater Garden I make my way to the other side of the road using the elevated crossing. I stand and watch for a while, photographing the people crossing below.

I’m now in the realm of tall buildings: the striking sharp lines of the Bank of China Tower; the alien carving of the Lippo Centre.

The haze has washed out the sky, and the sun glints off the blue of skyscraper glass.

Looking down, I follow the map towards Admiralty and Hong Kong Park.

I take the path up to Hong Kong Park. The incline is slight but it causes me more trouble than it really should. I’m sweating heavily.

But I’m less concerned with my health and more with the young man who appeared out of nowhere and is now following me. I don’t see anyone else around.

I suppose that he’s a tourist. Perhaps he’s taking the same walk from the same guidebook.

I pause to catch my breath and to let him pass. Worryingly, he too decides to stop at this exact moment. For no reason.

Even if I hadn’t injured my knee, I don’t have it in me to fend off an attack.

I’m in no state for mind games and there’s nothing else for me to do so I continue walking.

I manage to shake off my pursuer on entering the park; he was just a visitor after all. Still, I am in a state of distress and it’s nothing to do with my fanciful concocted drama.

Sweat is pouring…no…gushing down my face. I damn near use an entire travel pack of tissues to soak it up. A roll of kitchen towel would’ve been more useful.

Lonely Planet writes that I should browse the Flagstaff House Museum of Tea Ware. Then enjoy the serenity of its cafe while sampling its many teas.

Instead, I’m searching for a bin to deposit my sweat-sodden tissues while trying to not look like I need medical attention.

On leaving Hong Kong Park into Cotton Tree Drive, I’m supposed to turn right somewhere and traverse the elevated walkways to St John’s Cathedral.

However, when I do leave the park I notice the signs for the Victoria Peak tram. The Peak is a separate visit in itself yet I find myself drawn towards it.

If there are directions to the cathedral I don’t see them. I walk straight on.

It’s not yet 10.00 am and the tram ticket office is empty. I’ve read that the queues regularly stretch for hundreds of metres. I see that Octopus holders get a discounted fare. I don’t think that there’s any other option.

I abandon the walk.

The tram (actually a funicular railway) is not even half-full. It makes its way steadily up to the Peak. Before the halfway point I can see that the haze is stronger than I thought.

At the top, I can’t see much beyond Victoria Harbour; the mainland is nothing more than a cluster of ill-defined shapes.

I reason with myself that there are plenty of days left for me to return. Perhaps even at night when everything is lit up.

But I have two cameras with me right now so I take photographs.

I can’t find the exit — the way to take the tram down. So I wander around thinking the way forward will magically appear.

There appears to be very little open at this time and there are only a few people about. The visitors that are here this early are late middle-aged men with seemingly much younger partners.

I make my way into an unremarkable building that turns out to be something like a mini-mall. I’m less surprised that there is a Starbucks here.

I order a cappuccino and I sit down, the place to myself, to write some notes in my new pocket Moleskine:

I’m not sure how to get the train down so waste time in Starbucks — coffee is expensive here. Nishan Fuard, 12 September 2017

After my coffee, I walk back outside to explore further.

On a whim, I decide to enter the unprepossessing shop I’d passed by earlier. I discover that it’s the entrance to the return journey platform. D’oh!

I’m not sure if I’ve had my money’s worth from Victoria Peak; I’m further down thanks to the price of the coffee. Nevertheless, I still take the tram down.

I suppose the day is still young…

To be continued