Travel|Photography
Between Breaths at Victoria Harbour
A sore knee and a sit down in front of what became my favourite view in the world
I am not one to take risks. I rarely go so far as to make a bold decision. I’m kinda boring in that way.
But sometimes — when the stars align or that unseen player rolls my die favourably — I feel the need to be noticed. I’ll raise my hand; I’ll stick my neck out.
Like that moment in Hong Kong. If someone had asked me right there, right then, I’d have said Victoria Harbour was my favourite view in the world.
The effects of my refreshing shower only lasted until I opened the hotel doors and stepped into the streets. No matter.
I’d overcome the moment of weakness that led to me catching a bus instead of walking earlier that afternoon. I was no Duracell Bunny but I’d energy enough to continue exploring.
I thought I’d visit the mainland: Kowloon and in particular Tsim Sha Tsui (TST). It was why I was in Hong Kong in the first place.
When the travel agent asked why I wanted to holiday in Hong Kong, I replied that it was for photography. I don’t consider myself a photographer so while my answer was true it was also a little hopeful.
I’d become more interested in photography after watching a daft but YouTube channel. It was mostly camera and lens reviews but everything was discussed while walking around Hong Kong. According to the host, TST was the place to be for street photography.
I wanted to learn more as well as be comfortable walking with a camera in hand. I practised in London; I practised in Tokyo. I bought different cameras; I used different lenses. I improved my photography skills enough to become mediocre.
But I knew things wouldn’t get better until I went to Hong Kong.
The videos on YouTube made the Hong Kong Cultural Centre iconic or at least to me. Its Financial Times-like coral tint was soft in the late afternoon light. But I thought the building itself hard, ugly even; it was all lines and straight edges.
I skirted the sides and found the stairs to the upper promenade with its view of the waterfront.
My foot clipped a step as I made my way up. Normally, this act of clumsiness would be without consequences. But this time the jolt shook through my foot, travelled up my calf, and came to rest in my knee.
After the resulting intake of breath there was just a split second to clench my teeth, and swallow the loud, foul swear word that would have escaped.
I needed to sit down.
I found a seat and it happened.
Recording in words rather than on film is easier in moments like this…unless you have the budget, maybe, of James Cameron.
How do you find coherence inside the time between breaths? When so much is happening but it’s all internal; no one can see what it all means and you’re not so sure youself either. It’s a raw, undiluted experience that’s over all too fast.
It’s just not possible to take inventory, to itemise what my eyes can see. They simply take in everything; they gorge. My brain hasn’t started to process the sight let alone serve it up for me to savour.
Through the haze…Panasonic…LG OLED TV…KISS TIME.
And the air. There’s a twist of coolness that makes it way through the heat. It’s slight, yes, but noticeable during this pause.
The light is not yet golden and the amount of blue doesn’t feel quite right. The heat tricks my brain.
I feel warm, cool, fuzzy, peaceful, happy, and sad. Like when I listen to Waterloo Sunset.
This could be…yes…my favourite view in the world.
Just seconds have passed, but it might be the longest time I’ve ever spent sitting, spent being.
It’s over: I stand up and I start to take photos.
If you’ve not been following along — and I don’t expect you to — here’s what happened earlier in the day:
