Glory and Tragedy in Hong Kong
Time stops for no one
February 2017
When people think about traveling, perhaps there is that rose-tinted glasses kind of image. Of course there can be many positive experiences, but just like how ups and downs exist in everyday routine life, so to can travel have its own yin and yang…
I had just left sunny and humid Manila to land in cloudy and humid Hong Kong. Or perhaps that is just Chinese air pollution. I’m only here for a long layover before continuing on to Kyrgyzstan. The airport is nice. The bus was clean. The streets are clean. The scenery is green mountainous forest. Not far in any direction is the ocean. I don’t have time to go around outside of the city, but I’ve heard there is great hiking and peaceful corners you could end up in. Even though I haven’t been, I would recommend.
The hostel was somewhere between Mong Kok and Yau Ma Tei on the north side of the city. First thing I observe after I get off the bus is that there are Indians everywhere. And I don’t mean that in any negative or racist way. I was just taken aback. Where are the Chinese? I hardly see any around. The street food is all butter chicken. Where’s the octopus or something? I know this city is very international but at least in this area I do not feel like I am in the “special administrative region” of China…There’s a long line to ride the elevator so I take the stairs. The hostel is up several flights and on my way I pass a group of a dozen French Africans smoking weed in the stairwell.
This hostel is the cheapest on booking.com. I’ll see what I get into. The room is a 6 bed dorm, packed like sardines and reeks of dirty socks. It happens when you travel. Like I’ve mentioned in previous articles, some hostels are really nice, some not as much. Hong Kong is not necessarily expensive but it’s not as cheap as other countries in the region either. I place my bag on my bed and take a walk.
Strolling towards the waterfront there are numerous museums, and tall hotels. I pass through a garden with a statue of Bruce Lee (later moved to the water’s edge). I round the corner and walk down the Ave. of Stars. It has a fantastic view of Victoria Harbour and the city skyline on the south side. This area is also a great spot for nighttime as there is nearly always a light show and the sight is spectacular. You can see ferries with these traditional red sails crossing between both islands.
It’s always exciting when you’ve dreamed of visiting a certain city and you finally make it. I appreciate the view of a cool skyline. It’s art on a grand scale. Just like how I mentioned music in my New Caledonia article, Hong Kong was also another place where a certain song magically came to my mind years prior and just happened to mysteriously attach itself to the dream and the journey of coming here. That song is REALiTi by Grimes (before Elon lol). There weren’t too many people out here so I’m almost alone with the view. It was another glorious moment tied to the beat.
The ferries run frequently and take just a few minutes to cross. Getting off it looks like things are stirring up and the rush hour is starting. I don’t think it’s beneficial to have a car in this city. Public transport is great and everywhere is walkable anyways. Regardless some of the streets are packed, but also clean and not polluted in any congested ways. I also haven’t seen any homeless or people with drug problems on the street. While I’ve heard many people struggle with low incomes, the government has either really good social services or they are good at hiding problems.
Hong Kong gets steep quick. It’s nestled below Victoria Peak. They even have escalators connected to different streets to help you traverse the elevation. There are numerous living options, and they get exponentially more expensive with every metre you go higher. Some of the most expensive real estate in the world is on this mountain. The view commands the price. If you’re not in one of these select houses, then you’re in a giant tower complex. There is a tram you can take to the top. From here you get the grand view of all. It was pretty epic.
Back down in the city, I go through one of the shopping streets. What’s nice here is no one seems to mind if you responsibly drink in public. I grab a beer and continue my exploration. The shopping areas are pedestrian only. There are so many details that even if you walk slowly, you’ll miss something. I pass a busker balancing a vase on his head. It was a real one too. That was impressive.
Outside from here I end up in a local residential neighborhood. Was actually really quiet and peaceful. They have a good set up in many places here for people to hang out. Small parks, courts for various sports, etc. I pass by a group of older gentlemen playing what I think is chess? But they don’t know what I’m asking. I had managed to make my way into a no English area. Cantonese sounds varied to Mandarin, but if you don’t understand it doesn’t make much difference. I watch them play for a long time, while also observing their serious yet easy-going demeanor. They would slap the pieces down with convicted vigor. The intense silence would occasionally be broken by a loud gasp and a wave of an arm. They made me think of that movie Kung Fu Mahjong. (Is that messed up lol?)
I take the ferry across the bay again and proceed down a main street towards the hostel. I then notice a large crowd around one of the tower apartments. There were also ambulance, firetrucks, and police. As I get curiously closer, I see the crowd is all looking up with their phones pointed upward. I hear some shocked yells as I turn my eyes towards the top and am met with an ice-cold sight…It happened so fast, but also in slow motion…I watch this guy jump from the top and like a silent rag doll come crashing down on the lobby roof 30ft in front of me. I remember the sound of the bones like crushing dry leaves in your hand. I stood for a long second, almost frozen in time, as my brain tried to process what had just happened.
Quickly after the first responders moved in to begin cleaning up and telling the crowd to disperse. I watch people walk away, still glued to their phones. Across the apartment was a shopping mall. I go in and sit on the balcony above the street. Looking down they had already put the person in a body bag and were cleaning the blood off the roof. There was an indent where this person had been. Like a small crater. In a few more moments they packed up and drove away. I look around me. People seem oblivious to what just happened. New traffic on the street arrives, possibly not even aware of what had just transpired. People are shopping, buying coffee, taking that perfect Instagram photo of their food with the city in the background. Some minutes pass by and it now feels like as if this person had never even existed.
Time did not stop; the world did not stop. I don’t know this person, but I know they must have had hopes and dreams, good times and bad times, friends and family. Maybe love. But for whatever reasons he decided to check out. Everyone knows self-deletion is a tough issue, and I’m sure some of you know a person who has done it. To see with your own eyes however, the life leaving someone’s body in such a way will really make you think deeply. I was also shocked how people followed this guy with their phones from the top to the bottom. Just to walk away still looking at their phones! Did the world care about this individual? Will the world care when we die? Will life pause to mourn our passing? Or will the ticking on the clock march forward unabashed? I’m sure there are people who will miss you when you are gone. But what about the possible millions or billions who don’t even know you exist? Look at famous people. Life moves on regardless. What else can we do? This day made me realize that the memories we create for ourselves and with others, are our most true possessions. The only ones we’ll truly hold, appreciate, and reflect on in the last moments. And whatever gives you meaning and fulfillment, push on to whatever end.
Back at the dirty sock hostel, I’m lying on my bed lost in contemplation, when a guy walks in. We stare at each other for a moment and then have one of those “Ah Ha!” moments. 6 months prior while in New Zealand, I was hiking one of NZ’s “Great Walks” in Abel Tasman National Park. I passed this guy going in the other direction. We had briefing talked for just a minute about the hike, before wishing each other well and carrying on. “Bro I remember you!” we both said at the same time. What were the odds of running into each other in Hong Kong, is this hostel, in this dorm room?! He’s from Germany. There is another guy who comes into the room, a French African. After chatting for a while, we decided to head out for the night show. I didn’t tell them about what previously happened.
We grabbed drinks and head to the bay. I see my first beggar in this city. But not just any street person. A Beg-Packer. Someone from a first world county begging to help fund their travels. I had seen it before in other places across Southeast Asia and I could never understand the trend. Like mate, you’re from the UK just go home and get a job. Why sit there with a cardboard sign asking for money? If it’s an emergency the embassy should be able to help. His backpack had a dozen flag patches. How many people in some of these countries wish they could do what you are doing? I’ve done all my traveling with my own money. No trust fund, no Daddy’s Creditcard. I’ve never gotten lucky in crypto (at least not yet :D). Hard work, and savings. How it should be. What happened when I was low? I’d go back to the US and work until I could leave again. Maybe if I succeed here on Substack and earn a large paid subscriber base, I could jet off in perpetuity. If it happens great, if it doesn’t, at least my memories and stories are now here. Back to work. I give him a long look of disappointment and then walk to the waterfront.
The others and I talk about travels and life as the city dances in a vast array of different lights. I wonder what the electric bill must be like. We find some street food surrounded by locals with various fish on skewers cooked on the grill. The guy said he caught them out of the bay this morning. I mean, the water doesn’t look too polluted but it’s far from pristine. I always want to try what local people are eating when I travel around so we give it a go. The squid was alright.
When I lay down to go to sleep, I let out a long exhale and say to myself “Damn, what a day.” Back on the plane early in the morning…
I remember at the airport I had to have a layover in Almaty, Kazakhstan before going to Bishkek. There was a Russian man at the seating area who was on his way back to Moscow. He asked me where I was going. I said Kyrgyzstan. He says:
“Oh shit be careful you crazy American. Many gangster over there, but the prostitutes are cheap.”
“Well, that’s not really my thing but I’ll make sure to watch my back, spaSEEbah.”
If you google Kyrgyzstan scenery it looks absolutely incredible. Like another planet. That’s why I was going. I had also signed up to do WorkAway at a guesthouse in the town of Karakol. But that’s a story for another article. I ended up spending two months in this country and it was one of the more profound travel experiences I have had.
Like I said, our memories are our most true possessions. I go forward to whatever end. Will you do the same?
Thank you for reading!
-AbroadwithBrian
Great story.
Interesting take on this city.
I went through Hong Kong on my way to Australia. Had a 6 hour layover.
Not long enough to explore but long enough to leave the airport.
Took the train. Got to downtown at 7 am on a Saturday.
Smog. Hot, humid, dirty.
Did not really notice an influx of Indian vs Chinese people. Perhaps the time of day?
Who knows. Will definitely need to come back though.