boardom

Paula and I don’t often cycle to Plover Cove Reservoir—a colonial-era attempt to solve Hong Kong’s then chronic water shortages—mainly because it involves having to cycle through Taipo, and even with dedicated cycle tracks, we prefer to avoid urban areas wherever possible. In fact, there is a cycle track running alongside Ting Kok Road, a major highway to the east that leads to Plover Cove. This may be convenient, but it’s popular with cyclists who have hired their bikes just for the day, are technically of limited competence and who have almost no awareness of other cyclists.

When we do come this way, we’ve started to detour away from the main road at the point where the cycle track crosses from the south side of the road to the north via an underpass. I discovered this detour a couple of years ago while exploring the area. It follows a series of tricky narrow paths that lead to Shuen Wan Temple, which I featured in More Door Gods #3.

To reach the start of the first path, it’s necessary to follow a quiet road for 300–400 metres, and it was along this road earlier this year that I had an encounter with wild pigs. A few weeks ago, we were cycling along this road when I spotted four pigs crossing the road some distance ahead. I stopped to take a photograph (the other three pigs had disappeared into the undergrowth):

I had earmarked this photo for inclusion in my next photographic highlights collection, but if you read on, you will understand why I will not now be doing so, although I still like the image.

On Tuesday this week, Paula and I were cycling along this road en route to the start of the narrow paths, and I advised her: “look out for wild pigs!”

And she was the first to spot one, behind an area of weeds and long grass. I stopped immediately and was just able to make out the beast’s back. I took out my camera and circled around to see whether I could get a picture. Almost immediately, I was aware that there was also a youngster, a piglet, something I’d never seen before. I started to take a photograph when suddenly the small clearing was full of pigs. Someone—presumably a nearby resident—had left two large plastic bags containing sliced bread, and the pigs were tucking in. In the first two photos, one of the bags had yet to be examined by the pigs:

…although that state of affairs didn’t last long:

For the next 10–15 minutes, we simply stood there transfixed by the scene but taking photographs every few seconds. These are the best:

The piglets had clearly been weaned, because they were just as keen to tuck in as the adults. There were five adults, as you can see from the next two photos:

I assume that the large animal in the centre is a boar, and the other four are sows.

On a couple of occasions, one of the piglets decided to come closer to investigate the strange two-legged creatures that were watching them:

The next photo shows just how much larger the boar is compared with the sows:

The boar was now beginning to wonder who we were:

Notice that his coat is much darker than those of the females, although whether that is always the case I’m unable to say.

Paula kept trying to count the piglets, which wouldn’t keep still, and she reckoned that there were at least eleven. There are ten in the next photo:

We could have stayed there taking photos for much longer, but I reckoned that we had taken enough, and we needed to press on. This is the last photo I took:

footnote
I’ve included some of the photos taken by Paula in this collection. I’ve marked her contributions with a small red dot in the top left-hand corner of each one, although the increased colour saturation in her photos should make identification obvious.