Two On Tour

Back in the 852 for two weeks to check in with family and friends

Wednesday 9 April

Standing outside our motel near Auckland airport watching the traffic go by on a bright blue morning, the scene could easily be taking place in any town in the UK. The cars, the road markings, the trees: the whole scene feels entirely familiar, and yet we’re at the far end of the earth. It’s an odd moment.

Everyone seems to be off on an adventure today. Riding in the transfer minibus with us to the airport is a twenty-something woman who’s off to stay with a friend in Calgary for four months and to do a bit of road tripping through British Columbia. And sitting next to me on the flight (K’s across the aisle) are two even younger Kiwis. They’re travelling out of New Zealand for the first time, off to see Vietnam and Thailand.

It’s less of an adventure for us. But it *is* rather disorientating to be back. Stepping off the Airport Express in Central at 9.45pm, and walking through to Central MTR station, I’m startled how many people are about. It’s always been like this, of course. But after a year away, it’s rather shocking to see people walking around in office clothes at almost 10 o’clock at night. The MTR to Wong Chuk Hang isn’t rush-hour packed, but it’s still busy.

K and I are both aware that Wong Chuk Hang is unlovely. So we’re hardly disappointed as we trundle our suitcases through a grim concrete jungle on an already-humid spring evening to our Airbnb, stopping at a 7-Eleven to pick up a can of beer each (it’s been a long day).  I feel like an intruder in the block where we’re staying. It’s not the sort of place you’re likely to find many gweilos, and Airbnb is hardly encouraged in Hong Kong. We mutter something to the security guard about being friends of a resident and scurry inside.  

The flat is small, but manageable for a couple of weeks. At first, we’re unable to locate the hot water switch, and our host JJ is no longer responding to my messages (it’s nearly midnight, after all). So, I take a deep breath and plunge in for a bracing cold shower. Summer may be well on the way outside, but that water is COLD. Soon after, naturally, K discovers the hot water switch.

No need for a night light tonight: the curtains are thin, and this is Hong Kong Island – probably one of the brightest places on earth.

Thursday 10 April

It’s our first full day in Hong Kong for over a year. We have nothing in the fridge or the cupboard, so I amble down to Wong Chuk Hang MTR station and find a Yamazaki bakery. It feels strange doing ordinary things like this in an unfamiliar neighbourhood. This feeling will only intensify today.

We head to San Po Kong to the new premises of Love21, Jeff Rotmeyer’s NGO providing sports for kids with downs syndrome. Cosmo also arrives and Jeff gives us a tour. It’s impressive: they’ve fully recovered from the fire and water damage that put an end to the old premises, and now have 16 full-time staff. We head out to eat at a nearby social enterprise restaurant in a sports stadium endowed by the Tung Wah Group. I didn’t even know the stadium existed, let alone the restaurant, which serves an excellent and generously sized dish of Japanese chicken curry.

We say goodbye to Jeff and take a bus down Prince Edward Road to Cosmo’s flat, with a sweeping view of northern Kowloon and Lion Rock. I remain convinced that we’ve been there before but neither K nor Cosmo can remember. Very odd.

Cosmo, now working for Lee Kum Kee, has to get back to working from home, so K and I head to Sham Shui Po, where Ivan now works after his former computer store in Wanchai closed. It’s the first time I’ve seen Ivan since his 11-year-old daughter Kyra died suddenly last year. It’s hard to know what to say other than “I’m so sorry”. I pick out a new, more compact, laptop and K and I skulk off to a McDonald’s around the corner for an iced americano and a slice of sweet potato cake while my new computer is being set up. Here comes that strange feeling again: what am I doing sitting in McDonald’s in Sham Shui Po on a Thursday afternoon? For 25 years, I would have been at work…

New laptop set up, we head back to Central, where we’re meeting Shirley, Barney, Hera and Gabby for dinner at a great little place in Peel Street, completely new to me, called ‘The Pizza Project’. Shirley and Barney arrive first and Shirley fills me in with Hera’s latest trials and tribulations with Trey. A visibly distraught Hera arrives a few minutes later: she’s just received more legal threats from Trey. She takes us through the latest ways in which Trey is making Hera’s life a misery, but then Gabby – now ten – arrives courtesy of Hera’s helper and the conversation necessarily turns to catching up on everything else. Gabby’s the true star of the evening: she’s just as laugh-out-loud funny as she was aged seven when I last saw her. She regales us with riddles and other brain teasers and goes a long way to lightening was started out as an understandably sombre mood.

The six of us dig in for the whole evening. By the time we leave and jump in a cab with Hera and Gabby, The Pizza Project is mostly empty.

Friday 11 April

I head to Hung Hom Bay for lunch with Matt in the Kerry Hotel, which has a food court that I never knew existed. (Not that it matters at all now, but it would have been useful to know in the nearly two years I spent working on HHB campus). Matt and I have plenty to chat about, from the current state of CPBE (solvent, but dull), family and life plans (a possible move to Tuen Mun; the hope that CPBE remains viable until he’s 60 – seven more years), and the current shocking current state of the world (dire).

I spend the afternoon setting up my new laptop. Pros: more compact/good for travel, more storage; cons: smaller screen, and the colours don’t look as good as on my old laptop screen. I paid the same for the new one as I paid for the old one six years ago, so it’s reasonable to assume that this is a lower-end model. I’ll get used to it. Hey ho.

It’s Friday and there’s a fine tradition to honour. It’s good to be back at Trafalgar among friends. James Strang surprises us by being in town, as does Dale, who’s currently stranded here suffering from a blood clot behind his knee. He should have flown back to the UAE last week, but he’ll have to wait another week before he can safely fly. Oli makes a rare Friday appearance as he can’t join us for Sunday’s hike (he’s off to Japan).

Saturday 12 April

It’s a grim, wet HK spring day. Our first stop today is at the Globe, off Hollywood Road, for lunch with a few CPBE faces of yesteryear. Helen Lavender has organised today’s reunion: she just happens to be in town at the same time as me. Simon Miles puts in an appearance, but leaves early before we’ve spoken properly, much as I’d have liked to catch up. The Schroeders – both Brian and Kari – show up and eventually sidle down to our end of the table for a proper catch up. Their mum, now in Minnesota, is remarrying this summer at the age of 79 to a childhood sweetheart.

And Ashley’s in town. It feels odd seeing Ash in Hong Kong again – rather like how it felt when she first arrived in 2002 and the context was all wrong. This was a friend from the Turkey compartment of my life: what was she doing in Hong Kong? After spending so much time with her in Bodrum last year, she feels very much from that side of my life again. We only briefly chat as we’ll be catching up twice more next week.

We’re hiking tomorrow: proper hiking boots would be useful, so we scurry to 24 Storage in Fortress Hill to retrieve them, and K rotates her collection of band tees: she’ll now be sporting her fabulous Iron Maiden/Stoke City and Flaming Lips tees, among others, until we reappear in Hong Kong next summer.

Today’s evening date is a hotpot in Mongkok with K’s former Pioneer Centre crowd: Raymond, Tiffany, Lo Cheung, Cherry (with daughter Hayley), and Judy, with Katy and Kyle. It’s the first time we’ve seen Judy since Kyla tragically died last year. There’s an unmistakable deep melancholy about Judy, although she joins in the conversation and while doting on Katy and Kyle.

Sunday 13 April

Our first hike in Hong Kong for a year takes us to Chi Ma Wan on Lantau. There’s a good turnout: Jon, Peter, Nick, Michael and James Strang all show up on a deeply murky day of low cloud and low visibility. More importantly, however, it’s a balmy 24 degrees maximum (and probably the last mild day of the season). It’s a 15km stroll from the abandoned women’s prison by the Chi Ma Wan ferry pier to Pui O via Lung Mei: enough time to catch up with everyone at length. Apart from one group of walkers heading in the opposite direction, we see almost no one all day. Mid-hike, K and I stop and let the others’ footsteps fade out of earshot. There’s just us alone on the hillside, with the buzz and hum of unseen insects. It’s a wonderful, and rather emotional moment. This is my Hong Kong: unseen and unknown by the vast majority of the population.

For the first time ever, we don’t face the prospect of the long, dreary, exhausted return journey to Tai Peng village. We take our time at the China Bear, before both nodding off on the slow ferry back to Central, a little worse for wear for exercise and alcohol.

Monday 14 April

A quieter day today: a bowl of Taiwanese beef noodles in the local mall for lunch, then a few family matters to take care of. First, an MTR ride to Chai Wan, where K’s mama’sashes were finally interned at Cape Collinson Chinese Cemetery some time after we left in 2023. Her ashes are interned alongside her husband’s, whose columbarium photo – as he died in his early 70s compared with mama in her mid-90s – looks more like her son than her husband. After paying our respects, we walk to the nearby Sai Wan War Cemetery, where we each leave a pebble on a randomly headstone as a token of remembrance before walking back down to Chai Wan.

We kill an hour in Starbucks, where I restart my book on a history of the Balkans, before meeting K’s parents for dinner at Old Beijing restaurant in Wanchai. It’s good to see them after so long. Fanny’s finally allowed her naturally grey hair to grow. It’s mildly shocking at first to see her sporting grey hair. But by the end of the evening I’ve adjusted to it and decided that it suits her. Henry’s looking slightly more worn – he’s 70 now – but otherwise he seems in fine fettle. They’d like to sell the Tuen Mun factory/flat and apply for public housing, but the space is hard to sell in the current economic climate, which is unlikely to improve in the foreseeable future. The jade investments are also tough to sell for a good price. They’re as sharply dressed as ever, but they’re living very frugally – certainly putting our frugality to shame.

Tuesday 15 April

K and I go our separate ways today as we continue to catch up with friends. I head to PolyU for a yum cha lunch with Monica and the old – and now dispersed – admin team. I arrive early and spend half an hour walking around the campus. It’s two years now since I resigned: enough time to feel detached from it, but still deeply connected through 23 years of my working life spent here.

It’s lovely to have the old team back together – minus Kan, who can’t make it.

After lunch, I slink over to the Faculty of Business with Edna, who introduces me to Yanika, Lusia and Sara, who have all been sending me regular editing work. Edna and I come up with a solution that will see me earn more for editing work without the possible lack of security that might ensue were I to work directly for the faculty.

After collecting new contacts from Bing in Mongkok and sorting out some paperwork with Interactive Brokers in Admiralty, I head to Kennedy Town for dinner with Ashley and Geeta. I feel rather guilty that of the three of us, born just three weeks apart, Geeta isn’t currently getting as much out of life as Ash and I. Listening to Geeta’s frustrations with office politics makes me feel happily liberated from university employment. But she’ll cling on there for as long as she still needs to care for her ailing mother, now 94. Still, a lovely evening.

Wednesday 16 April

Day 7 in the 852, and finally a quieter pace. Apart from popping down to The Southside mall at lunchtime for a bowl of ramen, we chill out in our cramped little flat until late afternoon. We’re heading for Lamma tonight. A stroll around Pak Kok Shan would have been welcome before the socialising, but K has a sore throat and a dry cough. Instead, we limit ourselves to taking the ferry from Aberdeen to Pak Kok and walking up to Tai Peng from there. By Pak Kok pier, the village house that reliably flies a different national flag every day is flying the Tibetan flag today. Brave.

We briefly pop into No.134 to touch base with Carla and Dev, and have a sunset beer on the roof. The flat’s looking well looked after. They’re using what was our utility room as their bedroom, and what was our bedroom as their study. The kitchen, now with an air fryer and a microwave, looks rather cramped, but their call, naturally.

We meet Denis and Marie-Helene outside the flat and wander down to the village, bumping into Rambo on YSW Main Street. Denis (80) and Marie-Helene (75) have abandoned their plan of moving to Portugal and have decided to remain in Hong Kong. I sense that this suits Denis more than it suits Marie-Helene.

Chris and Carole are waiting for us at the Sampan restaurant and we all spend a very enjoyable couple of hours catching up. Chris, Carole, Denis and Marie-Helene all remain far more travelled than we are: Chris talks animatedly about a camper van trip through the former Yugoslavia in the 70s, while Marie-Helene was in Mostar as a teenager in the mid-60s. Since we were in Bosnia, they’re the only people we’ve spoken to who have spent time there. It’s good to talk with people who have a sense of it, no matter how long ago.

YSW has a new ferry. It’s bigger and faster, but also an icebox and doesn’t have any outdoor seating. It’s odd to be the ones leaving Lamma on an almost-empty late ferry instead of seeing others off. We arrive in Central with teeth chattering and make our way back to Wong Chuk Hang.

Thursday 17 April

Day 8 in Hong Kong runs at an even quieter pace than Day 7. K has both lunch and dinner engagements while I have nothing in my diary today. I spend a mostly pleasant day simply pottering and attending to our travel plans: cancelling our accommodation in Warsaw (we’ll be staying in Kasia and Tom’s flat instead), booking four nights in Zakopane between our time in Krakow and in Koscielisko (Kasia can’t join us as early as originally planned), and organising an airport transfer to our hotel when we arrive in Belgrade next week. I spend some time reading up on the history of Belgrade. We’ll only have two full days there, but some context would still be useful.

Before I walk down to the local mall to find some dinner, I head up Nam Long Shan Road, where we’re staying, towards Brick Hill, as in ‘Find someone who likes running up Brick Hill‘. The hill itself is too high to climb before it gets dark, and I’m not carrying water. Still, it’s surprising how quiet and peaceful the top end of the road is. Past the Canadian International School (didn’t that use to be in Shau Kei Wan?), it’s just a rural road hemmed in by jungle on both sides. In Wong Chuk Hang of all places! Hong Kong never ceases to confound me. Coming back down, I even spot a couple of wild boar rooting around near a vast block of flats:

Friday 18 April

K’s had a raspy through and a chesty cough this week. Now I seem to be going down with the same thing. It doesn’t help that Hong Kong is blanketed by thick, damp, low cloud and crushing humidity: it feels a lot hotter than the official 25 degrees. We call off an afternoon stroll around the north end of Lamma that we were planning with Adam and Vicki before dinner at theirs tonight: it would only aggravate our throats and chests. Instead, we conserve our energy by quietly ticking over in the flat for much of the day.

We eventually head over to Lamma in the late afternoon, together with Ashley. Miranda, also visiting, meets us and takes Ashley off our hands for an hour while we meander through the village keeping an eye open for familiar faces. We see Ellie and Marion enjoying an early evening tipple outside the Grill and stop to chat a few minutes. Perhaps it’s the gloomy weather, perhaps it’s the length of time we’re been away developing new perspectives, but I’m not feeling the old magic of Lamma this evening. It’s nice enough to be here, but I’m far from yearning to be back living in Yung Shue Wan. And that’s good, surely?

As ever, Adam and Vicki are superb hosts. Tonight we’re treated to vegan nasi goreng, with homemade sticky mango rice ice-cream for dessert. There’s just seven of us: perfect for a single conversation instead of breaking off into separate knots. Ashley’s never met Adam and Vicki – she’s here as a friend of both Miranda and myself – but fits in immediately. Miranda – the single one among us who’s fully retired (last year, at 53) and self-sufficient – is noticeably happy and relaxed. She’s now dividing her time between Birmingham (boyfriend) and Lamma. Vicki plans to work one more year, but plans beyond that will depend on how long their geriatric cat keeps purring. Dan, meanwhile, is gainfully employed, working for an archeaological company that carries out surveys for the HK government.

Lots to chat about. Lots of stories to swap and notes to compare. For four of the seven of us, it’s a reminder that we’re finally doing the things we often used to talk about on evenings like these, when we had grand plans but still had full-time jobs.

Saturday 19 April

My own raspy throat and chesty cough continues to develop. Fortunately, there’s very little I need to do today except to take my old laptop back to the ASUS store in Sham Shui Po for recycling. K’s out for both lunch and dinner, so once I’ve returned the laptop, I nest myself down and do very little for the rest of the day.

Sunday 20 April

I’m still coughing and feeling short on energy, but we nevertheless walk to Aberdeen to join the (Easter) Sunday hike to Wanchai. It’s a strong turnout today, with Clara, Jim and Yami all putting in a rare appearance. It’s a hot walk up from Aberdeen, but once we join the Hong Kong Trail and disappear into the jungle, it’s much more bearable. Michael passes us the key for the flat in Krakow. I feel bad for not talking with Michael more, but tradition dictates that when Michael, Peter and James Evans all join a hike, they dawdle at the back way behind the rest of us.

It’s James Strang’s (unofficial, i.e. Easter Sunday) birthday, and Jon’s birthday is tomorrow. They’ve already nominated the Biergarten for after-hike drinks, where Marie and Mimi join us, giving us a full turnout of gents and wives except for Lena, Peter’s wife On, and Mark’s partner, who remains an eternal mystery.

That’s it for so many familiar faces for at least a year, by which time Jon and Jim will both be 65 and facing an uncertain future given that both would like to keep working at least a year or two beyond 65.

Monday 21 April

We’re winding down now. By Wednesday afternoon we’ll be in distant Belgrade. After returning our hiking boots and some other bumpf to storage, we spend the rest of the day with K’s mum and dad.

First up, a bus ride to Tsang Tsui Columbarium, way out past Lung Kwu Tan on the Pearl River estuary. The packed bus (it’s still shortly after Ching Ming) takes us through one of Hong Kong’s least glamorous corners, an unsightly jumble of shipping containers, cement works, and power stations. Approaching the columbarium by bus, what looks like a six-storey car park rears up alone on a stretch of reclaimed land. Bulldozers are still levelling off the new land to both sides. Except for a sleek new power station a few hundred metres up the coast, Tsang Tsui Columbarium stands alone and rather forlorn. (K explains that everyone calls it ‘Tsang Tsui University’ as the building was briefly used to film a TV series set at a university before the building was officially opened as a columbarium—Cantonese gallows humour on fine form.)

Once ‘inside’ (it’s covered, but has minimal walling), the columbarium looks less forlorn. In fact, it’s rather well designed given the enormous space limitations in Hong Kong—there’s even room for a spacious shallow pool lined with smooth grey pebbles. Popo has a plaque in the Garden of Remembrance, facing glitzy Shenzhen across the estuary. Her ashes were scattered last year in the garden immediately in front of her plaque. It’s a fitting spot, close to where she swam to shore in Hong Kong during the Great Leap Forward and built a new life. We take it in turns to clean her remembrance plaque with a wet wipe.

We also visit the resting place of Kyra’s ashes. Her plaque is high up: I’m the only one tall enough to reach up and use a wet wipe to clean it. (Apparently, these lots are allocated randomly.) “But she has a good view!”, K pipes up. That Cantonese gallows humour again…

We contemplate a while under poor Kyra’s ashes, then inevitably start scanning the surrounding plaques. It’s alarming how many ‘students’ at ‘Tsang Tsui University’ have found themselves here well before their time should rightfully have been up. I lose count of how many were born in the 1950s and 1960s. K thinks this may be because many born in the 1940s and before are gradually being laid to rest in older columbariums alongside a previously-deceased spouse. (Later we decide that Covid may also have been a factor, but we don’t think to look for spring 2022 dates of death while we’re there.) This is some comfort, but it’s still a sobering experience. I remind myself that at least I’m semi-retired and making good use of my own motto that time is the most precious thing we have.

We squeeze onto another packed bus to return to Tuen Mun. From there, we ride the MTR to To Kwu Wan. I’ve only been to this old corner of Kowloon a couple of times, and not at all for many years. Its location is familiar as the four colossal residential blocks of Sky Tower have peacocked over the northern limit of this otherwise gritty neighbourhood of tong laus for the past 20 years. But at street level, it’s entirely unfamiliar.

We’re here to surprise Damon at work at ‘Cozy Motors and Lounge’. He’s duly surprised but doesn’t seem entirely happy to have been ambushed. Over the next half hour he loosens up and it’s touching to see mum, dad, son and daughter chatting away amicably. I realise that this isn’t just the first time I’ve seen Damon fully sober, but also the first time I’ve been alone with mum, dad, daughter and son.

We say goodbye to Damon and decide to walk on to Kai Tak to eat. It’s shortly before sunset on a warm but refreshingly unmuggy spring evening: the perfect time for an urban stroll. We pass the brand new Kai Tak Stadium (Coldplay and the recent Rugby Sevens were its coming out parties earlier this month) and head into Kai Tak itself, now very much a new town in its own right. Its few completed blocks felt like the back of beyond last time I was here, maybe three years ago. But now I have to concede that Kai Tak is a first-class example of urban regeneration. This corner of Hong Kong certainly doesn’t feel like its best days are behind it.

We settle in a ramen restaurant at the new Airside mall, where I happily people watch while K and her mum and dad chat genially for a couple of hours. Heading home on the MTR, Fanny takes my hand and holds it until we say goodbye at Hung Hom. That was a nice gesture. I’m touched.

Tuesday 22 April

Our last day in Hong Kong is low key. We have to return to 24 Storage one final time after finding a flask and a laptop case in the flat, neither of which we’ll be taking to Belgrade tonight. We meet Shirley and Barney for pizza and a final chat, and bump into Richard Fernie, now the proprietor of nearby pricey bar ‘Not 2 Sweet’, as we head down Peel Street afterwards.

The airport is quiet tonight. Our flight isn’t until 1.30am, so perhaps this is not entirely surprising. We’re the final customers of the day at the airport bar. Goodnight, Hong Kong.