Hong Kong: Day 14, A nearly free day

We started the day by sharing a Chinese style breakfast at the hotel, then we went to meet Aunt R at their childhood home which had been occupied by Uncle L and Aunt A up until they sold it about 10 years ago. I thought perhaps they’d made arrangements with the new owners to see the place, but instead we took pictures in front of the locked gate and high cement wall.

After that mom and Aunt R went shopping, and I took the metro out to Lantau island. This is the island where the airport and Hong Kong Disneyland are located, but there were other sites that interested me. I took a bus to the town of Tai O, an actual fishing village. I got there to discover them offering 20-minute tours of the area that included the opportunity to see dolphins. I’m not that into boats, but I figured I could survive 20 minutes. I was kind of hoping they’d spend more time in the village and less out to see looking for dolphins, but I survived. On the boat with me were three giggling teenage girls who got all excited to see an egret. We did not see any dolphins, but the girls took lots of pictures of each other. It turns out they were doing an ecotourism project for which they interviewed me afterwards.

I walked around the village for a while and bought a bun for lunch. The variety of fresh and dried seafood products did not appeal to me. I then took the bus to the Po Lin Monastery and its giant Buddha (the world’s tallest outdoor seated bronze Buddha) They charged admission to the Buddha, but mostly it was the heat that deterred me from climbing all those stairs. The monastery was quite nice, and I was happy to find that they allowed photography.

From there I walked through the newly constructed tourist trap village to the Ngong Ping 360 cable car which I took back to the metro. The visibility was relatively good, and the view was stunning.

I took the metro back to Hong Kong central where I walked through the neighborhood of Soho to the Dr. Sun Yat-sen museum. The museum is in the area called the Mid-Levels which means it’s on the hillside. They have a series of escalators going up to the Mid-Levels, so the walk up wasn’t that bad even though it was quite a ways. I wanted to see this museum since I’m distantly related to Dr. Sun, the first president of China. My mother’s father’s brother was married to Dr. Sun’s daughter. There was a lot of information about a very complicated period of China’s history, so I think I learned a lot, but the displays were rather dry, and I didn’t think the audio tour helped much. There was pretty much no mention of his family beside his wedding photo to his second wife. The half of the museum dealing with Dr. Sun’s influence on Hong Kong was closed, but there was a special exhibit by an American photographer (Stafford) on the 1911 revolution.

Since there was no elevator going down, I saw more of Soho on the way down, but it could have been the international quarter in any major city in the world.

It was aunt R’s turn to invite the family to dinner, and she chose a very fancy Chinese seafood restaurant in the Holiday Inn. Again, Uncle L, Aunt A, her servant, and Aunt R’s husband were there. As with all family gatherings at which Aunt A was present, Aunt R’s son (my cousin) was not invited. Aunt A and Aunt R were pregnant at the same time, but Aunt A miscarried, and she’s held a grudge against my cousin ever since. He is not allowed anywhere in Aunt A’s presence, and the rest of the family lets her get away with this dreadful behavior. I feel especially bad about this because my cousin is only a year older than me, yet Aunt A has nothing against me. I really respect my cousin that he can tolerate this situation for the sake of keeping peace in the family.

Hong Kong: Day 13, Kowloon Heat

My mom and I started the day by taking the bus to a park that had been recommended to us, the Kowloon Walled City Park. The park was beautiful, featuring elegant Qing dynasty style architecture, but I found particularly interesting the interpretive display on the history of the Walled City.

In short, it started as a Chinese garrison, but it was eventually abandoned after the British got control of Hong Kong. For some reason that I’m not entirely clear on, these ~12 acres (0.026 km²) became an ungoverned and lawless zone full of opium factories, drug dealers, organized crime, and other illegal enterprises. Much of the city was destroyed during WWII as the Japanese used the materials to expand the nearby airport. Building was unregulated, and the place became a maze of high-rises haphazardly thrown together. In the 1970s two rules for construction were adopted, a height limit of 14 stories (because of the airport) and a requirement of providing electricity. By 1987 when China and Hong Kong came to an agreement to demolish the city, the population was estimated to be about 50,000 making it one of the most densely populated areas on earth.

Mom took the bus back to the hotel to meet her brother for lunch, so I was on my own for the afternoon. With the help of directions from a local, I walked about half an hour to the Wong Tai Sin Temple. All three of the main religions of China are practiced here: Buddhism, Taoism, and Confucianism. Luckily I got a few pictures of the outside of the building before I was informed that photography was not allowed (from the signs, I had guessed the restriction was only inside the temple). Therefore I paid a little extra to see the temple garden where photography was allowed. The main feature was a pond with hundreds of turtles (red-eared sliders, of course), but otherwise I was not particularly impressed.

From here I took the metro to the Nan Lian Garden. This garden was in the Tang dynasty style which these days is more often associated with Japan (unpainted wood, understated elegance with less ornamentation and more “natural” features). Suffering from the heat and humidity, I sat down on a curb in the shade to read the brochure before starting out, but I was promptly reprimanded by a guard for sitting in a non-designated area. I meandered down the trail and was rewarded with a cooling breeze. It was a beautiful garden with a pagoda, waterfalls, a koi pond, and of course carefully manicured landscaping which was being tended by an army of gardeners. When I retraced my steps to get a better angle for a picture, I was reprimanded for not walking in the designated direction. This was a public park that charged no admission, yet they had the budget not only for the gardeners but for security guards every 20 feet to enforce the rules. The highlight of the garden was a nunnery (Buddhist?), but unfortunately photography was not allowed there.

The abundance of labor in China and the communist need to keep everyone employed explained this sort of thing in China, but I was surprised to see it so prevalent in Hong Kong as well. You never had to look around a store or restaurant for assistance, and for pretty much any job where one person would do, there were two or more. The funny thing about Hong Kong is that they do not look to China as their source of cheap labor—instead they prefer to import domestic help from Southeast Asia, Indonesia, and the Philippines. There is a standard contract for imported domestic help which specifies a salary of ~$400/3200 SEK per month for 12 hour days, 6 days per week, with 2 weeks off and a plane ticket home each year. After 2 years, a small raise is guaranteed. Many young women leave their husbands and children for a chance to earn the big bucks in Hong Kong, and it is suspected that as many as 25% of them fall victim to physical or sexual abuse.

Dinner this evening was at Le Menu, the fancy buffet restaurant in Hong Kong to which Uncle L had taken us last week. This was mom’s farewell dinner to the family, so both her brother and his wife (and maid) and her sister and her husband were there. We arrived early so that I could take some pictures of Aunt R and her husband. The dinner buffet was very good, and the desert bar excellent.

Hong Kong: Day 12, Stanley Market

My mom wanted me to show Uncle L and Aunt A the portraits I’d taken of them, so we went by their place for breakfast. After that, we took the bus, the metro, and another bus to Stanley, a place that the guidebooks described as an old fishing village. I think a better term for it would be “former” fishing village, now it’s pretty much just a tourist destination with an attractive waterfront and a large market.

Mom and I spent much of the day perusing the market in search of bargains, and there were plenty to be found. We ate lunch at a real hole-in-the wall that we never would have found without the advice of a local, and despite the rather scary appearance, the food was both good and cheap.

It was a lot hotter in Hong Kong now than before we’d left for Guilin with highs around 80 F/27 C and very high humidity, so even though we hadn’t done anything really strenuous, we were quite worn out. It was about dinner time when we returned to our hotel, but we weren’t hungry. I stopped off at the local convenience store for some barbecue pork buns and yogurt, and it was nice not to have a heavy dinner.

Guilin/Hong Kong: Day 11, a lot of little things

We began the day with the great buffet breakfast at the hotel again, and then we met our guide and driver for a day of sightseeing in Guilin. Because the visibility was particularly bad, we started at the Reed Flute Cave. The mountains in this area are made of limestone and thus full of caves. This particular cave is one of the larger ones, and it’s full of interesting formations. To make it an appealing tourist destination, they’ve added a paved path, colored lighting, and music. Frankly I found the colored lighting a bit tacky, but it was a really nice cave.

Next, Angela took us to a pearl factory. We tried to talk her out of it, but she said that she would get in trouble if she didn’t sign us in since it was part of the tour. We’ve both seen the whole pearl thing before and were not the least bit interested in a sales pitch. I don’t think Angela really believed us until we walked right through, used the bathroom, and waited at the exit.

By now visibility had improved somewhat, and the sun even hinted at coming out. It had also gotten warm, about 72 F/22 C. I shed the winter coat and sweater, but I was still too warm. We drove back into the center of town to see the Elephant hill and then Fubo Hill. Elephant hill looks like an elephant, but I kept asking why the other one was called Football hill—it wasn’t spherical or shaped like an American football. It turns out I misunderstood her accent. The hill was named after the legendary general Fubo who shot an arrow through a mountain and used part of this hill for testing his sword. It is said that he used a giant stalactite to test his sword, and it really does look like somebody cut clean through it. It was over 400 steps to climb to the top of Fubo hill. Angela and my mom climbed half-way to a viewing pavilion, and I climbed the whole way. Between the heat and humidity, I was absolutely dripping in sweat by the time I got to the top.

Then next stop was lunch at a tea house that had the claim to fame that the Clinton family ate there, and Hillary and Chelsea hung out there while the president was in a meeting. It also had its own book shop with books in many different languages. I picked up a book on teaching your child Chinese. Lunch was probably the best we’d had yet. Everything was very artfully arranged, and it did not include sweet & sour pork and fried rice as so many of our previous meals had. Angela and Mr Lee ate with us, and it was nice to sample their food and share ours with them. As usual, there was a lot left over, but they were reluctant to bring us boxes so that Angela could take home the leftovers. Apparently it is pretty uncommon for the tour guests to invite the guide and driver to eat with them and take the leftovers.

Out last stop on the tour was the Tea Research Institute. We had a very knowledgeable guide there who showed us both about how the different types of tea are picked and did a tea ceremony/tasting. Tea ceremonies are big in Japan, but according to him, they originated in China. It seems that in recent years, tea ceremonies have become popular in China again, especially among younger people as an alternative to alcohol. I liked some of the teas and some of their accessories, but the stuff they had at the gift shop was just way too expensive.

So then it was back to the hotel to pack and rest. Packing shouldn’t have been that hard since we each had only one small suitcase and one carryon, but this also became the problem. Our stuff had expanded, so I went out for a walk in the local shopping area to get one of those woven plastic zippered bags to use as an extra carryon. We got to the airport just before it opened, but there was no problem with the extra bag. They even let us check it.

In line ahead of us was a couple from Hong Kong who had just taken a similar tour. They’d noticed that we hugged our guide when saying goodbye and genuinely meant that we would miss her. They struck up a conversation, and it turns out that they didn’t like their guide at all. She was fresh out of the university with a degree in English, yet she didn’t know anything about the places they were visiting and couldn’t answer any of their questions. I guess we really got lucky to get such a good guide.

The flight back to Hong Kong was an hour long and uneventful. From the airport we took the bus back to within a few blocks of the hotel. That took about an hour, but it was also uneventful. Getting off the bus was the only challenge. First, we were a little uncertain about which was the nearest stop when coming this direction, and when we did get off, the bus was rushed with Indian men offering to carry people’s luggage. They were blocking the doorway and grabbing at the suitcases. Most people were ignoring them, but since I had to put down the first bag and grab the second and third from the bus before the bus took off, I was a bit snappish in telling them to get out of my way. They were so surprised that they stopped dead in their tracks and backed off.

Our new room at the YMCA was on the 14^th floor, so the view was even better than the previous room. The room was a little smaller, but that didn’t matter; we made ourselves right at home.

Guilin: Day 10, the Dragon’s Backbone

Mom was not feeling well, so I did today’s outing by myself (well, with the guide and driver). We drove about 2 ½ hours up to the mountains where terraced rice fields have been cultivated by the Yao minority people for hundreds of years. The visibility in town was poor, and it got worse and worse as we drove. The fog turned to drizzle as we approached our destination, the Dragon’s Backbone, and the clouds parted so that it was cloudy above us and cloudy below us, but there was fairly good visibility for what we wanted to see.

It took about an hour of climbing wet, slippery steps past souvenir stands, small restaurants, and the village of Ping An to get to the Seven Stars viewpoint. The village was built on the side of a steep hill using all wooden construction which is unusual for China. The area is naturally forested, and we drove past at least two sawmills which were supporting the building boom there as everyone tries to make the most of the tourists.

The view was indeed spectacular and well worth the trip. The trail signs indicated that there was another viewpoint, and I wanted to go there also. Angela had never been there. In fact, she didn’t know of anyone who had been there. It was clear that she did not want to go, and figuring that she would probably charge me a lot extra if I tried to force the matter, I let it slide. In retrospect, I should have been more persistent—after all, it’s unlikely I’ll ever have another chance.

On the way down, I stopped at one of the shops that was run by a Yao girl, and asked her to show me her hair. The Yao are world record holders for the longest hair, and this girl’s hair reached down to the ground. She also had a separate bunch of hair woven in with the rest that was nearly as long; this had been cut at the age of 16 as a coming of age tradition. Her hair was amazingly black and shiny, supposedly because they only wash it in fermented rice-washing water. So without a mirror, she brushed, and twisted, and coiled it around her head, then finally pinned a cloth on top. That pile of hair must have been quite heavy.

Back to the hotel to meet mom, then we were off to dinner on our own. We didn’t have much time so we went to a rather hole-in-the-wall type noodle shop a block or so away that seemed to be popular with the locals. Indeed, the food was quite good and very reasonably priced.

At 7 PM we met Angela again for the Two Rivers and Four Lakes tour of Guilin by night. It was a bunch of pavilions, pagodas, bridges, and other buildings all lit attractively. Some of the bridges were reminiscent of famous bridges elsewhere in the world (like the Golden Gate). All of this was built in 2002 to make the city more appealing to tourists, and I guess it worked. In some of the pavilions were people performing Chinese Opera or playing traditional instruments. For me, one of the highlights was a demonstration of fishing with Cormorants. These birds have their wings clipped, and they’re kept on leashes most of the time. When they are released into the water, they follow their instinct and catch fish. However, they have a metal ring around their necks that prevents them from swallowing the larger fish. When they come out of the water, the fisherman grabs them by the head and massages their neck until the fish comes out. The birds are then compensated with a small piece of fish that they can eat. I’m not a fan of captive birds in general, and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for these birds.

After this boat tour, Angela took us by the Waterfall hotel to see the world’s highest man-made waterfall in its nightly performance. I was a bit under whelmed by the sight of water running down the side of a building accompanied by blaring music.

After that, Angela talked us into getting foot massages. Mom was quite skeptical at first since she’d never had a foot massage before and feared that it would tickle. While it was different from the foot massages I’ve had previously, I did find this quite enjoyable. The best part was that the last 15 minutes were spent on the face, head, neck, and shoulders. I wish they’d done more of that.

Yangshuo/Guilin: Day 9, Mr. Lee’s Wild Ride

For the first time on this trip I did not sleep well. I was kind of cold, and the bed was really hard. The single pane windows also let in a lot of noise from the street. I was already in the shower, but at 7 AM somebody lit off so many firecrackers that my mom thought there was an explosion in the hotel. Whatever the occasion was, nobody on the street reacted as if it were anything out of the ordinary. The extensive breakfast buffet at this hotel was largely Chinese, so I ate a variety of buns and a piece of toast.

Our tour started with a visit to Moon Hill a little outside of town. Our guide did not try very hard to convince us to do the hour-long hike involving 800 slippery, uneven stairs, to the top of this hill. Since there was nothing for mom to do while she waited, I decided not to do this.

The drive back to Guilin was about 1 ½ hours. I should also point out that driving in China makes Hong Kong seem calm and orderly by comparison. The concept of lanes does not exist. There is a stripe painted down the middle of the road, but as far as I can tell, it’s just decorative. Most of the traffic seems to be right-hand drive like in the US, but clearly not everybody got that memo (at least not Mr. Lee). Slower traffic is not confined to any particular portion of the street, nor is passing done on any particular side. They have traffic circles, but as far as I can tell, there are no rules that apply here at all. Traffic lights (there are a few) are merely a suggestion. The only thing that everyone seems to agree on is the need to honk: honk when turning, approaching an intersection, merging, passing, being passed, or to say hello. If you don’t like what somebody else is doing, honk like crazy, but with all the background honking, it’s unlikely they’ll notice. Our driver, Mr. Lee, does not seem the least bit concerned by any of this. He doesn’t even wear his seat belt (mom and I do, even if we’re only going a couple blocks).

On the way to Guilin, we stopped at a place called Shangri-la, a tourist trap Chinese style. We started off taking a 20 minute boat ride past actual villages and other villages constructed in the styles of different minority peoples. As western tourists, we had a boat to ourselves, not counting Angela, the driver, and the girl that helped us on and off (in the US these tasks would all have been done by the same person, but here it creates jobs). The Chinese tourists were packed into the boats like sardines. The minority people sang and danced for each boat that came by. Many of them reminded me of American Indians, and one of them even had totem poles. The boat dropped us off at a village where people were wearing their traditional costumes and doing handicrafts. There were also stations set up for tourists to pose for pictures while pretending to do these things (though not actually try it). There were also lots of places designed for people to take pictures of each other with a scenic background. In fact, taking pictures of each other seemed to be the primary purpose of visiting this place, for example, there had to be 50 people in line to take pictures with the entrance sign. I was one of very few people taking pictures primarily of the scenery and the people in costume.

Lunch was at a fancy Chinese restaurant in Guilin. Again there was much more food than we could eat, but Angela and Mr Lee declined to join us. After lunch they took us to a silk factory where they make the silk quilts that this area is famous for. We got to see silk worms in their different stages (the final one being snacks sold by street vendors), and the cocoons being processed. We also got to try stretching the silk, which was surprisingly difficult. Then they gave us the hard sell on what a wonderful product silk is. After that it was back to the Sheraton to rest. This time our room wasn’t quite as fancy as last time, but it was still quite nice.

At 6 PM it was off again to one of the dinners which are included in the tour. This was at a very modern, fusion restaurant all the way across town. Traffic was extra crazy since it was rush hour. We nearly had a head-on collision with a scooter, but Mr Lee was unflappable. Playing chicken into oncoming traffic is commonplace, but one should not make any assumptions based on the size of the vehicles involved. The only other customers at this restaurant were also on a similar tour. The cuisine was a strange mixture of western and Chinese food very artfully presented. Once again, there was easily twice as much as we could eat. We shared some with our guide and driver, and Angela took home the leftovers, so at least they didn’t go to waste this time.

After dinner we were driven to the theater where they had a Cirque du Soleil type show called Dream Like Lijang. On the way there, Mr Lee finally lost his cool, honking and swearing. We had been waiting for a couple minutes at a very busy intersection behind a car that was yielding to traffic. “No guts, no glory” must be Mr Lee’s motto, because he really couldn’t stand the other driver’s patience.

The show was nice, sort of a cross between acrobatics and ballet. It was also only an hour and 10 minutes long, which was good because we were quite tired. It was divided into three acts: the first was the river, the second was the mountains, and the third, well, I couldn’t figure it out. Photography was not allowed during the show, but I was surprised to see the cast members lined up by the exit so that people could pose for pictures with them. We skipped this.

Guilin on a Friday night seems to have a pretty lively nightlife. There were pedestrians, bicycles, and scooters everywhere, but Mr Lee refused to yield to any of them. I imagine that if we had stopped for a pedestrian, we may never have gotten moving again. In front of the hotel, Mr Lee played chicken with what appeared to be a police SUV complete with flashing lights on top. Only at the last second did he yield just enough inches for the vehicles to squeeze by each other without slowing down. Amazingly, he did not get pulled over for that.