Bee eaters and barracuda

Above, the blue-throated bee catcher, apparently a fairly common species in Hong Kong. I’ll have to keep my eyes open. An unlucky swimmer had a rather more traumatic brush with the island’s wild side this week, with a shark or barracuda attack at Deep Water Bay, the nearby beach where I sometimes jog and (in the Summer) swim. The attack occurred inside the protective shark net installed around the beach’s bathing area. ( Surprisingly, Hong Kong in the nineties was a hotspot for shark attacks on humans, leading to the installation of nets around many popular beaches after a spate of three fatalities in two weeks.) Although the species of fish involved has not been positively identified, and how it breached the net is a mystery, experts have speculated that it was either a member of one of the smaller shark species or a barracuda. The unlucky swimmer who called out in agony and was rescued by lifesavers saw nothing, but was left with a deep gash in his leg, complete with one of the fish’s embedded teeth.

The interlopers

On my way home from work one day this week I heard a raucous, strident noise and looked up to the skies above the Aberdeen harbour where a flock of feral cockatoos were screeching across the straits from Ap Lei Chau, five or six of them. As with the parrots of Kowloon park they are an exotic species, presumably a band of escapees, who have now made themselves firmly at home in Hong Kong.

  

I also noticed another exotic species this week. The city’s “Cotton trees” dropped their seedpods to disperse clouds of snow-like white fluffy material over streets like “Cotton Drive” and “Cotton Tree Road.” Although firmly entrenched in the city, the species (also known as ‘kapok’) is originally from Central America.

Cloud walking

A misty morning on the Peak when we ascended from Pok Fu Lam and somehow took a wrong turn, coming down the mountain into Soho!

Nattura!

Yuen Long

Yuen Long is one of Hong Kong’s outlying sleeper towns, a commuter belt hub rarely visited by those from the “centre”. But thats a shame – the mini-city has a lot going for it, as I discovered this weekend. I arrived on a forty-minute train trip from Central, stepping out under looming grey skies on the first real Saturday of Summer – the air was thick and heavy, and I felt like I was arriving in a different city rather than just a suburb.

The main street, Castle Peak Road, bustled with pedestrians and stores, feeling something like Shenzhen, which looms visibly closer than Hong Kong proper just on the horizon. On backstreets, men lay sleeping under trees on dusty river banks and the tropical foliage was filled with chirping birds of species I never see on the island. Yuen Long felt different – somehow more Asian.  In the town itself, amid a cluster of aromatic Thai restaurants and an Indian supermarket, I found a bicycle hire store and rented a bike, riding through the placid, sweltering backstreets to the banks of the river Shan Pui River.

I was shocked to see the scene opening up in front of me ; wild green fields ran down to the water and Southeast Asian-style stilt houses, built of rickety wood, were balancing precariously over mangroves.  Was this still Hong Kong?

I cycled by the river, past deserted-looking huts and ruins in thickets of tropical flowers while fish splashed below – or at least I hoped they were fish; it was near here in 2004 that locals had discovered a 1.6 meter long crocodile.  In places the path was broken up and almost impassable so I had to carry my bike. Soon though, I reached the first landmark of the trip, the little landing at Nam Sang Wai where a boatman rows across in a rickety wooden boat to take visitors across to the other side.

There, the path continued around a large swamp, something like the Florida Everglades, where tall green grass lay interspersed with muddy pools of water, trees and occasionally, an abandoned house. Suddenly, this surreal landscape filled up with groups of teenagers, day-tripping families and even more bizarrely, couples taking wedding pictures. I soon discovered there was a carpark nearby for easy car access to this side of the river, allowing me to ride on over smooth asphalt past fish farms, one where terracotta warriors peered out over a pond amid the white smoke of piles of burning leaves, and by mudflats and mangroves where egrets roosted. By the river, Shenzhen glimmered – its thrusting towers looking unfamiliar, rich and powerful – under the moody darkening skies.

I decided to loop back into town before the rain hit, already plotting my return to explore more of the Yuen Long hinterland.

To the Golden Mountain!

Hiking on Lantau’s stunning Tai Tung Shan (大東山) mountain.

Walking up the waterfall

I have mentioned before on the blog the surprisingly impressive waterfall, hidden away virtually unnoticed behind a freeway in Aberdeen. This week, as a sunny Autumn blossomed over the city, I noticed that the construction at its base seems to be over and the pathway has now been clearly to a narrow flight of stairs and a pathway leading up by the waterfall, leading…where? All the way to the Peak? I can’t wait to find out this week.

The weekend that was

As Summer settled over Hong Kong and work hit a (very) temporary lull, I noticed myself unwinding this week, feeling contented and relaxed. It was a weekend of cooking (well, I didn’t do much to be honest but Louis did), swimming, hiking, philosophical discussions about Taoism, catching up on Game of Thrones, listening to the new Khalil Fong album and  podcasts on oxytocins, and reading Fahrenheit 451.

 

On Friday night I found myself in the obscure Caroline Hill Road backstreet of Causeway Bay. It felt almost like a wandering Sukhumvit side-soi with the heavy tropical sunset gathering, little traffic and 1960s concrete schools and sports buildings among all kinds of other interesting little surprises – a Chinese mansion backed by a towering condo, an “Indian recreation club”, sports fields where boys in white shorts played against a backdrop of jungly hills and lights shining out from expansive, expensive windows in the midlevel apartments above. I passed the “Confucius Hall School of Rugby” (culture clash in action), an outdoors Thai restaurant, piles of discarded Gundam boxes and a cute piece of street art before arriving at my destination, the gloriously 1970s South China Athletics Association sport centre where we sat on the terrace to drink beer, eat peanuts and talk about cinema, overlooking the plinking and plonking of endless white balls at a golf range.

The next day we went hiking along winding trails through the forested hillsides of the peak from Pok Fu Lam, down to Aberdeen and on again to the Wanchai Gap, on paths that looked out sometimes over the sea, sometimes over cemeteries or reservoirs or the concrete towers of my own (adopted) hometown of Aberdeen below, weaving between rocky streams and towering electricity pylons.

Afterwards we went swimming under humid clouds in a nearly empty public swimming pool, hearing the birds sing while we splashed, and caught an exhibition of Japanese erotic art in the Aishonanzuka gallery hidden away in a nearby Wong Chuk Hang office building.

In other words, a little bit of everything 🙂

 

lake of love

The perfect Valentines backdrop – the “Red Lotus Sea” lily pond in Udon Thani, Thailand, is blooming through February.

Kaffir Lime

A Chiang Rai taxi driver gave me this; he had a handful of them in his glove compartment. I wasn’t sure what it was, but assumed some kind of fruit. I was about to peel and eat it, but something stopped me – which is lucky, because it is (it transpires) a kaffir lime. They are used for their rind and leaves in aromatic Thai soups, and like this one, as natural air freshner due to their fresh, light scent.

Underneath the flame trees

Its Spring in Hong Kong and the flame trees – also known as flamboyants – have burst spectacularly into red bloom in Victoria Park, among other places. The trees come from originally from Madagascar but have since been planted throughout the tropics, including here, as an ornamental species. Their fiery red  clusters of flowers and lack of green foliage makes them blaze.

Love Lamma

It was a balmy tropical day today, so it was the perfect opportunity to get back to nature on Lamma Island, enjoy some soup with garlic toast and chicory coffee at the Bookworm Cafe and wander along the pathway that links the island’s two villages, past beaches (and the looming power plant), overgrown fields and boulder-strewn hilltops.

 

I also discovered another great little hippie-ish spot, a shop/cafe in a bamboo grove strung with windchimes called Lo So. At first I thought it was a reference to the tongue-in-cheek Thai term (for plebeian “low society”) since the whole of Lamma has something of a Thai island vibe, but it turns out that it is just the name of the nearest hamlet in Cantonese.

At the end of the walk, in the village of Sok Kwu Wan, I saw a pile of bamboo poles outside the Tin Hau temple, ready to be erected into a Cantonese opera marquee for the island’s festival, and inside the temple I saw this strange ribbon-like fish, which presumable washed up on an island beach or fisherman’s net:

The sign at the stop says “No Eating” and I thought “fair enough” but when I looked closer it was “no eating photos”. I guess they meant “Taking”. Too late.

New territories Spring

  

Into the park

“Peaceful” is the last word most people would use to describe Chatuchak. Except “Spiritual” perhaps. But literally alongside its vast, sweaty market the district is also home to a surprisingly large and beautiful park, and one of the city’s most interesting modern temples. The park is right by the subway and Skytrain stops at the entrance to the market. Overheated shoppers sit stunned on the benches, their purchases strewn around them, while couples doze under palm trees and monitor lizards slither into the lake. But the park is so big though that you can easily wander away from the crowds to where well-maintained lawns stretch away into junglish undergrowth by lime-green canals. Soon you are all alone.

You can walk for thirty or even forty minutes through meadows and lawns, hearing just the calls of tropical birds and the distant hum of city traffic, although skyscrapers peer Central Park-like over its Eastern edge.

At this time of year, the park is also host to the pink blossoms of a tropical tree known in Thai as the “King of tigers”. The flowers fall like cherry blossoms and blanket the ground in pink.

I had never heard of this “Thai sakura” phenomenon and I was stunned. In one particularly beautiful spot the flowers drifted over a lotus pond in bloom.

At the far Northern boundary of the park, just beyond the road that bissects the parkland, lies one of Bangkok’s most distinctive temples. The Buddhassa Indapanyo Buddhist archive is housed in a minimalist modern structure, where white-clad pilgrims gather on a terrace looking out over the lake. Cool, concrete and contemporary, the structure is a complete departure from the dazzling glitter of most Thai temples, but its simplicity gives it a sense of calm perfectly suited to a Buddhist centre. There is also a well-designed Dhamma bookstore that was playing a CG animation of the life of Buddha when I was there. It is the perfect place to stop before plunging back into the city.

Pink tiger falling

  

Tung Lung

    

To Chek Keng

The second day of the camp was at the youth hostel at Chek Keng, an hour and a half’s hike into the forest of the Sai Kung protected area. On the way we passed through the fascinating abandoned village that I had explored previously here.

The youth hostel – all peeling paint and iron bunks – sat overlooking a glistening stretch of ocean that protruded, lake-like, between the forested hills. All around there were birds hopping in treetops, the sound of gentle waves lapping and little else. It reminded me of Japan.

That night it was freezing. Gusts of fierce wind were blowing and the temperature dipped to a chilly eleven degrees. But luckily the next day the sun came back out, just in time for us to return to civilization via a speedboat – which was awesome.

Hand in the water.

Creepy.