peak viewing

“Let’s go up the Peak,” suggested Paula recently.

Victoria Peak, the highest summit on Hong Kong Island, is the only major mountain in Hong Kong that I don’t know the Chinese name of. However, it’s always been simply ‘the Peak’, hence the wording of Paula’s suggestion. How to get there is the first problem. We can get a train from Fanling to Admiralty station on the island side (this line used to terminate at Hung Hom, on Kowloon side, but was extended by the MTR a few years ago), followed by a short walk to Central. From here, if you’re a tourist, you will probably take the Peak Tram (actually a funicular railway), but we always take the bus, mainly because the views are far superior—on the tram, you’re tilted backwards at an obscene angle, so you can’t see much, although if you’ve never tried it, then you should. Just once though.

The bus terminates next to the upper terminus of the tram, so there’s no effect on what you might want to do next. It is possible to continue uphill on foot, although the actual summit of the Peak is inaccessible because it houses a radio station. We always start by walking along Harlech Road, which contours the southern side of the Peak. There are occasional views to the south, but nothing particularly impressive. And despite the crowds around the tram terminus, it’s relatively quiet on this road, with few people and almost no traffic:

I never notice at what point we find ourselves on Lugard Road, which crosses the northern slopes of the Peak with no major gradients, ending eventually at our starting point. However, according to the government map Harlech Road continues straight on where Lugard Road branches off to the right somewhere around the col that separates the Peak from nondescript higher ground to the west. The last time we visited the Peak, we encountered a couple of young wild pigs around the col, and I shot quite an intimate video:

The individual that accounted for the bulk of the time in this video was probably expecting to be fed. Incidentally, I hadn’t realized that there are wild pigs on the island side, although I’ve seen many of these creatures in the New Territories.

I’d carelessly neglected to charge my phone before this excursion, and we spent some time in Hong Kong Park, where I took more than 60 photos, before catching the bus to the Peak, so I shouldn’t have been surprised when my phone decided to switch itself off to conserve power as we walked along Harlech Road. Consequently, I asked Paula to take some photos whenever a gap appeared through the trees as we walked along Lugard Road. What follows is a selection of her photos, with occasional explanatory comments from me.

The first two photos are views of what might be called the ‘western approaches’ to the harbour:

Almost all the high-rise blocks that you can see in the foreground of these photos are residential buildings. The buildings in the distance in the second photo are part of the town of Tsuen Wan, the northern terminus of the MTR’s Tsuen Wan Line to Central, one of the first lines to be constructed in what is now a very extensive network.

And this was our first view of the harbour, with a glimpse of the building that dominates the view towards Kowloon:

I don’t know the name of the building, which is located on land reclaimed from the sea since the handover to Chinese rule in 1997. The entire reclaimed area is known collectively as ‘West Kowloon’.

The next photo provides a fairly comprehensive view of Kowloon:

You will notice that there aren’t many super-high buildings. The reason for this situation is that when Hong Kong’s airport was located at Kai Tak, in eastern Kowloon, a height restriction (18 storeys) was in force. Notice too the line of mountains in the distance. ‘Kowloon’ means ‘Nine Dragons’ in Chinese, referring to these mountains. I can’t positively identify any of these summits apart from the one on the far right, which is Fei Ngo Shan (‘Flying Goose Mountain’), better known simply as ‘Kowloon Peak’.

The next two photos are essentially the same view from different angles:

Notice that there are now quite a few commercial buildings in the foreground. This is because the area below is the central business district, better known simply as ‘Central’.

These are views looking east along the harbour (shots taken from different locations):

The final four photos are general views from different positions, which I present without further commentary:

One final comment: it would seem from many observations over the years that a majority of people who follow this walk do so in the opposite direction. This might seem like the logical direction to follow—spectacular views almost straight away—but if you follow Lugard Road first, Harlech Road is going to seem like an anticlimax. We will always circumnavigate the Peak in a clockwise direction!

shepherd’s warning

You’re probably familiar with the old nautical proverb:

  Red sky at night,
  Sailor’s delight.
  Red sky at morning,
  Sailor’s warning.

However, I come from a part of England where wool was a major part of the local economy for hundreds of years, until a rapacious king, Henry VIII, confiscated the accumulated wealth of the mediæval monasteries, including Furness Abbey, which had been responsible for introducing sheep onto the fells of the Lake District in the first place (fell derives from the Old Norse word for ‘mountain’—all the local words for topographic features derive from Old Norse). Nevertheless, sheep (and shepherds) remain a fixture on the fells, and locally the familiar wisdom attributed elsewhere to sailors I automatically assign to shepherds.

The purpose of this digression is to serve as an introduction to what I saw this morning. I always enjoy my morning coffee sitting on the roof of our house, where I can listen to the cacophony of the dawn chorus (mostly crested mynahs), but I’d no sooner put my coffee down than I had to rush back downstairs to get my phone. Here’s why:

I took both these photos at 6.10am, and the next two at 6.20am:

…with this one just a minute later:

I took the next two photos at 6.28am to illustrate how far across the sky the colour had spread. This was the view looking southwest:

…and this is what it looked like to the northwest:

I took my final photo at 6.30am, when the display had reached maximum intensity:

Notice what appeared to be a perfectly circular yellow curve (it was much more obvious in reality).

And as for the dire warning that is enshrined in the Cumbrian shepherd’s message? It’s been sunny all day!

oh! my god(s)

Although I first came to Hong Kong more than 50 years ago, there are still places in the territory that I’ve never visited. Stanley, a small town on the south coast of Hong Kong Island, fell into this category until last week, when Paula suggested that we pay a visit after we’d been to the Registration of Persons office in Kowloon to pick up my new ID card (I’d lost my old one over the summer). Mind you, in common with many Hongkies who live on Kowloon side, I don’t often cross the harbour to the Island side, which partly explains the omission.

Stanley’s main attraction, at least for tourists, is its market, where you can buy all sorts of exotic items. However, when we arrived, the first thing I noticed was a sign pointing the way to a Tin Hau temple (Tin Hau is the goddess of the sea in Chinese culture), so that is where we went instead:

The first thin I noticed when we stepped inside was the door gods, Yuchi Jingde on the left:

…and Qin Shu Bao on the right:

Although I’ve recorded many examples of door gods on the doors of ancestral halls, study halls and temples, this was the first new example I’d seen in quite some time, and the first thing I noticed here was that the door gods weren’t merely painted on the doors; they were embossed, in a kind of bas-relief. I also noticed that although the two door gods held ‘standard’ weapons—a halberd by Yuchi Jingde and a pole sword by Qin Shu Bao—they grasped these weapons with both hands. It is much more common for the pair to hold these weapons with just one hand while holding a sword, still in its sheath, with the other hand. These door gods are also facing squarely forward, when they should be facing slightly inwards to ensure that intruders cannot sneak in between them.

I then took these photographs just inside the entrance:

I cannot offer any information regarding the subjects of these photos, although you might notice the dragons on the vertical panels in the third photo.

Then we ventured into the rear hall of the temple, where I spotted a sign that read ‘photography available’, which I interpreted as meaning that photography was allowed—we’ve visited temples and monasteries where photography is explicitly forbidden. And I certainly wanted to photograph what we saw here! My final five photographs show the array of gods along the back wall of the temple (from left to right):

I don’t know who or what the array of figures in the next photo represent (scholars and warriors?), but we saw a similar display in the China section of the Royal Ontario Museum when we visited Toronto back in August:

Notice the red signs on the walls behind these figures. These are the names of the various entities, something that I’ve not seen anywhere else:

And that was the Tin Hau temple in Stanley. Well worth a look inside, although the building itself is singularly uninteresting.