A lively commercial spirit

Hong Kong, vibrant and colourful, with sleek skyscrapers, verdant hills and a pulsating night life, is a dynamic city of commerce. I love going there, which is convenient because I go often. In fact, I'm a "frequent visitor", which is more convenient:  I whisk through Immigration bypassing a serpentine queue every time… whether I arrive by day or night, on a weekday or weekend, during school or holidays. The enormous airport - with myriads of shops, lounges and restaurants - handles 48 million passengers annually. That's about 90 passengers a minute.

It's easy to doze off on the half-hour drive to the city on a silky-smooth highway and miss the scenic hills of Lantau Island, the bridge to Kowloon and the tunnel to Hong Kong. The two-stop train journey takes 24 minutes but is equally soporific.  

(Arriving at Kai Tak Airport ten years ago used to be more stimulating: descending into mountains with jagged peaks; flying almost in between buildings with clothes fluttering on balconies; catching a glimpse of a short runway; and screeching to halt a few feet before the ocean.)

I usually stay in Pacific Place, in the heart of the city, yet close to sanctuaries of tranquillity, like the Hong Kong Park - with small lakes and quiet pathways among flowers - and Bowen Road on the adjoining hill, with a panoramic view of the city below.
I like going for a run on Bowen Road but dislike having to climb the hill first. I thought I was saving time by running up the hill till an athletic Chinese, effortlessly overtaking me, asked, "Why don't you save time by running?"

I now run around the Hong Kong Convention Centre on the waterfront with a stimulating sea breeze and a flat path where I can strike a pace bearing some semblance to running.
 
VIEW FROM KOWLOON
Staying at Kowloon is an attractive alternative. Hotels are a little cheaper. The view of the Hong Kong skyline, rising over the harbour and illuminated with dancing lights at night, is breathtaking. By underground train, Hong Kong is just one stop away (not surprising with only the sea in between). Buses and taxis are similarly swift. Even the more leisurely ferry across the picturesque and busy harbour takes only fifteen minutes.
And Kowloon is the place for my favourite type of shopping - inexpensive. It doesn't boast heavyweight brands with overweight prices but does offer imitations. A friend once thrust his wrist at my face.

"See this watch?" he asked unnecessarily as it was two inches from my nose.

"A Rolex!" I said, impressed.

"No, it's fake!" he cried in delight, "I bought it in Kowloon for US$100. Fantastic, no?"

I was puzzled that he would buy a fake Rolex and then advertise it. Surely that defeats the whole purpose?

TONGUE-TIED
In the 80s, I sometimes felt a little uncomfortable when I asked people the way in Hong Kong. They would look through me as if I weren't there (when I knew that I was). But over the years, I find they have become welcoming and friendly. Nowadays when I ask someone the way, they smile and shrug… but don't actually tell me the route. They don't understand me.

The same thing happens in taxis, which are inexpensive and plentiful in Hong Kong. Say "Pacific Place" and the cab driver will look at you blankly. You need to say, "Taai Gu Gwong Coeng", which may not occur to you at the spur of the moment. Every place has a Cantonese name. The solution is to carry this, written in Chinese, with you. Beaming and nodding vigorously, the taxi driver will place the paper carefully on the dashboard. As reading material, it may lack depth (for example, Pacific Place is written simply as "????") but he will study it painstakingly before driving off, smiling happily. He will pick it up and read it again at every traffic signal and take his eyes off the road now and then to give it an affectionate glance. But despite developing a touching rapport with it, he will thrust the paper into your hand when you leave. Perhaps it's bad feng shui to retain your passenger's destination when the passenger has left.

You can also get around Hong Kong by walking - on an elevated skywalk that seems to connect all its buildings one floor above the ground.

Hong Kong is the place for people fond of food, by which I mean humans. It specializes in different combinations of organisms and organs, like frog legs, chicken feet, duck skin, pig intestines and fish eyes. As a vegetarian, I'm somewhat constrained but I don't complain a lot. And there are many dining locations: Lai Kwai Fong, on a pretty, cobbled street; the fashionable SoHo; The Peak, with its splendid views; or the charming Stanley village.

PHOTO OP
There are many other tourist attractions in Hong Kong like Disneyland, the Ocean Park, Madame Tussauds, the Man Mo Temple, Aberdeen and the Western Market. My wife accompanied me once and, unburdened by meetings, took a guided tour. She was impressed by an ethnic village where, for US$10, tourists got themselves photographed alongside an elderly woman in a traditional cheongsam dress (the tourist remains in traditional tourist attire). I told her it sounded reasonably lame.

"Exactly!" she said, "But if they can do that with one cheongsam, imagine the opportunity in India! In Mumbai alone, we could milk $200 from each tourist by photographing them alongside a Maharashtrian bai in Parel, a Tamil maami in Matunga, a tiffin-waala in Dadar, a Muslim devotee in Haji Ali… the possibilities are huge!"

Extracting that $10 from a tourist sums up Hong Kong's lively commercial spirit. Demand mercilessly dictates price.

For example, my hotel may charge me twice what I paid previously if I visit during, say, the APEC summit. One day, I envisage getting this explanation for a $50 surcharge on my hotel bill:

"This week has been exceptionally clear, Sir. The charge is for the smog-free view of the harbour."