Hong Kong & Macau: A Journey of Surprises and Serendipity

“Ah, Mickie is a girl,” I said, pointing toward the black Tesla. “She’s also very strong,” I noted, as she lobbed our cases into the boot.

Mickie was a really lovely Hong Kong girl who made us feel comfortable immediately with her enthusiasm to converse, impeccable driving, and useful snippets of information about the territories.

I always feel joy and privilege when seeing a new land, and this was no different. My eyes darted across the vistas, trying to take it all in and compare it with more familiar cities. It certainly wasn’t what I imagined—Hong Kong is quite large, consisting of many mountainous islands. From the airport, it’s a typical Asian multi-lane highway with huge bridges linking one island to the next. Mickie pointed out distant islands shrouded in steamy haze. One, whose name I do not recall, was home to Mickie—still an area of apartments, though not very high compared to where we were headed. It’s also home to her beloved cat, who’s evidently lonely because Mickie works long hours. But that’s okay—she rescued her! Isn’t it funny the things you learn chatting to strangers?

Closer to the main cityscape, we passed the container port, which for many years made Hong Kong the world’s busiest. It looked a little jaded, to be honest, along with the tenement blocks we were now approaching. It seems that by becoming a trendsetter in high-rise modernism—now replicated across China—Hong Kong has become the older, less modern example.

We arrived at the wonderful Cordis Hotel in the heart of Mong Kok on Kowloon Island. We said goodbye to our new pal Mickie and entered our palace! One of the tallest buildings in the area, our room on the 29th floor offered a “room with a view.” And wow—what a view! A wall of glass looked out across the city toward the sea.

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With a nine-hour time difference, it was difficult to know what to do. We were tired, but it was only four in the afternoon. Should we go out and explore or check out the rooftop pool?

Life seems surreal sometimes, I thought, as we paddled up and down the amazing pool high above the streets of Hong Kong. It was stunning! We finished off with a relaxing sauna and steam and were now wide awake—ready to explore the area for food and drink.

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Mong Kok Madness and Korean Hospitality

Mong Kok is mad for sure, but a great place to experience. It’s just so busy, yet people are polite and warm. Within an hour, we were sharing a table in a delightful Korean restaurant with a local couple, discussing life in general. I was already learning firsthand the unusual difficulties faced by a young man working across the border in China while living in expensive Hong Kong. It was only an hour, but a wonderful reminder of how lovely it is to travel and meet new people. We felt like we had new friends and were disappointed to say goodbye so soon.

Super S Korean Wheat Beer

Typically, we were now on the hunt for a beer—but found ourselves in an area of just food outlets. No problem! We walked into a real locals’ café and explained our plight. Easier said than done—they spoke not a word of English and had never seen anyone just in for a beer! After much gesticulating at pictures of beautiful cold bottles of beer, they arrived—followed by another staff member pointing at the food menu, and then another, and another! In fact, about six people came to point at food pictures. Eventually, a young girl miraculously appeared and, in perfect English, asked what we’d like to order. We explained we had what we needed as we held aloft our giant bottles of Chinese beer. Ahh—she smiled and explained to the rest of the staff. Ahh—they all smiled and laughed at the two crazy Westerners!

Only an hour, but a lovely one, as we watched the workings of a traditional budget café. Wendy even got an escort through the kitchens to the basic but very rural loo. What a great first day.

Views, Typhoons, and Flower Markets

Wow—what a view to wake up to. I was beginning to feel at home here on top of the world. We might have to stay a little longer, as we kept checking updates on Typhoon Tino, which was due to make landfall in Vietnam at almost exactly the same time as us. The poor people of central Vietnam had already been hit with no less than 17 typhoons this year, dumping incredible volumes of water on already flooded valleys.

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The flower market was our first call today. Always a good place to visit in tropical regions, as the flowers and plants are so different and exotic compared to home. This was no exception—we were wowed by what must be a local specialty: orchids.

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We walked for hours toward the harbour, noticing the change in feel as the streets became lined with modern buildings, designer shops, and many more Western faces. Kowloon Harbour front is impressive and looks directly at the massive commercial towers of Hong Kong Island. It’s hard not to keep snapping pictures of what is probably one of the most recognisable skylines in the world. Exhausted, the trip across will have to wait till tomorrow—we headed back to the hotel for swimming and gym. Oh, what a hard life!

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Escalators, Trams, and Happy Valley

“Wow, this is a bit of a shock—there’s no one here,” Wendy said.

“I know, it’s a bit deserted.” It felt strange wandering around the skyscrapers of Hong Kong—it was just so quiet.

As I looked up toward the acres of glass, I replied, “Maybe they’re all in there working away in the offices.”

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We made our way to the waterfront that looked out on Kowloon and mostly saw runners and joggers winding through quiet parks and gardens. Eventually, we arrived where the ferries land from across the water. Streams of passengers disembarked and took a raised concrete walkway into a massive, nondescript building: “The Shopping Mall.”

The mall was mostly high-end stores, some amazingly presented, and all seemed to be doing good business—it was certainly busy here.

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Exiting the mall, we had our first taste of the real Hong Kong, passing overcrowded streets in search of the mid-level escalators. It’s an intriguing walk—the whole area is like a highway for people, with flyovers and intersections passing over busy roads below. It’s also a brilliant place to marvel at the engineering feat that is Hong Kong City. I had no idea it was built into the side of a very steep mountain! There’s a super mix of colonial buildings and sleek modern high-rises. Wide streets resemble London, while narrow connecting alleys are 100% Asian—lined with street sellers and food stalls, lit day and night, deprived of sunlight by towering walls.

1000019656 Another reminder of British rule: red London-style buses and trams, all driving on the left. The taxis, however, are all red Toyotas—mostly iconic Toyota Crowns that look like relics from the early 1970s.

I’ve certainly never had this much fun riding escalators since trying to run up them the wrong way as a kid in Bournemouth! The mid-level escalators run up the steep streets, lined with bars and restaurants, crossing narrow roads and ending at high-altitude residential blocks. In the morning rush hour, they take commuters down to work; the rest of the day, they switch direction to head upward. They turned out to be a great way to explore the characterful areas on different “levels.” In total, I think they span nearly 900 metres.

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We took a tram! Wooden seats, bells, and sounds from another era. A classic case of “If it’s not broken, why change it?” These wonderful relics must have carried millions of passengers over the years—and now they were carrying us to Happy Valley Racecourse. Wednesday night is race night!

It’s incredible—you get off the tram in the heart of the city, and there it is: bright lights, a stunning green strip of grass, majestic stands and terraces, all with a backdrop of high-rise buildings and a full moon rising between two towers. Free for tourists, or ten dollars (a pound) if you don’t want to queue.

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Inside, the buzz is infectious. Bars, dance groups, and of course—betting! I’ve never really bet; losing a pound usually breaks my heart. But as the saying goes, “When in Rome…” Fortunately, there are helpers to guide you through the process. Armed with my foolproof gambling system—pick number one at random—I placed my bet. The races last only 1–2 minutes, but the build-up and frenzy are brilliant. Of course, number one won!

Race two: I switched to another foolproof method—pick a horse whose name makes you smile. “Fortunate Son” was in last place with 100m to go. Oh well, my system was crap.

“Did you see that?” Wendy said excitedly. “They’ve just given it to number 3—Fortunate Son! He came out of nowhere!”

My luck was really in tonight. Four races, four wins! We left Happy Valley very happy indeed.

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Trip to Macau: Speed, Serendipity, and Shades of Grey

I thought a day trip to Macau, China was a great idea—it would be country number 60 for me, and it also meant a journey across Hong Kong Harbour. After passport control, we were shown to our leather seats with seatbelts. I wasn’t expecting this at all—it felt just like boarding an aircraft.

I headed upstairs, presuming it was for outside viewing, but was hastily reminded that I must remain seated with my seatbelt fastened for the entire journey. I sat there sulking, thinking it was a bit over the top and slightly peeved that I wouldn’t get my pleasure cruise around the bay. Sulking lasted only until we set off.

Flipping heck—this was nuts! We tore off at warp speed. It felt more like a speedboat hammering across the water at what must have been 40 knots or more. You really needed the seatbelt—when we hit a wave, it felt like we were airborne. An incredible journey, really: 60 km in about an hour.

Another jaw-dropper was the view from the sea of the road bridge to Macau—the longest bridge in the world at 55 km!

For some reason, when we asked for a map at the port’s information desk, we were randomly treated as VIPs and escorted to a waiting limo, whisked straight into the centre of town! Considering about 700 people exited the building, it was quite a surprise to find just three of us treated like royalty.

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Macau has a well-worn tourist trail of nicely renovated Portuguese buildings and shiny cobbled streets, where a snake of mostly Chinese tourists follow one another in single file—running the unending gauntlet of hawkers selling stick-like, flat, brittle pork confections. By the time you’ve tried one at the start of the street, you could eat the equivalent of a box by the end, as they’re thrust into your hands.

THE TOURIST TRAIL MACAU

To be honest, it wasn’t our thing. The route felt a little contrived, so we headed into the backstreets. What a contrast. It seemed Macau had run out of paint once you left the tourist zones. There were wonderful old buildings with ornate, rusty railings alongside temporary shacks and blocks. Many could be quite charming, but they were all so grey.

One street was stunning—reminiscent of a Sicilian lane, with balconies and washing hanging over the main street. But again, if only it wasn’t so grey.

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We walked for miles, seeing only the occasional modern, colourful outlet, which seemed oddly out of place. Life in the backstreets was just as it is in many Asian cities: tiny garages, metal workshops, fabric shops, and convenience stores. Some of the architecture was genuinely cool, but again—so dull, as if no paint had touched it in decades.

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ABOVE: A RARE GLIMPSE OF COLOUR IN MACAU

Eventually, we looked at each other and knew we’d had enough. It was no longer inspiring—in fact, it was a little disheartening. Time to find a local and figure out where we were on the map.

As the takeaway driver puzzled over our tourist map, his finger landed right on the very edge of the paper—on the edge of Macau! We couldn’t be that far out, surely? He must be wrong. So we ducked into a shop for a second opinion. She too looked puzzled before placing her finger in the same spot.

She couldn’t quite believe we’d walked all that way and suggested we needed some kind of transport. A little alarmed at how far we’d rambled into the middle of nowhere, I approached a young man at a bus stop. There were buses everywhere and dozens of stops—we didn’t have a clue.

“Help!”

“You need the number sixty to the port,” he replied.

“Where do we get that?”

“Right here,” he said.

I smiled, then decided to overwhelm him: “How do I pay? How do I know when I’m there? When will it come? When, when, when?”

He stopped me. “Don’t worry—I’m going there. I’ll take you onto the bus.”

“Phew—thanks!”

Unbelievable! Only four people from a nearly full bus got off at the last stop—the port. He spoke perfect English and was the first person I approached. He even took us through to the port ticket office, as he was meeting his girlfriend arriving on our ferry.

Now that was lucky!

Macau isn’t a bad place, and the people seem friendly, but it was one of the few places I’ve found uninspiring. The tourist trail is fine for selfies and Instagram shots, but next time I visit the real Macau, I’ll bring some pastel paints—it really needs brightening up!

We did pass through the gambling strip, said to rival Vegas, but again—it wasn’t our thing. Bright lights and shop after shop hoping to buy your jewellery so you can gamble it away… or sell it to you if you win. It reminded me a little of a Spanish tourist hotspot crossed with a modern outlet centre—all built in straight lines. Wow—some people will hate me for that!

But as my friend, Bus Buddy, nonchalantly said when asked about the casinos:

“It doesn’t filter through to us—except when families are split up by gambling debts.”

RIGHT NOW I AM WRITING THIS ON TOP OF A BUILDING IN HANOI VIETNAM! THAT’S NEXT

BELOW IS A SELECTION OF PHOTOS FROM HONG KONG AND MACAU

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Sneaky fishing in macau

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AMAZING BAMBOO SCAFFOLDING USED EVEN ON THE SKYSCRAPPERS 1000019364

VERY BAD PIG

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CORDIS HOTEL

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FLOWER MARKET ORCHIDS

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