hong kong

The French have a word for when you are in an unfamiliar place, feeling disoriented and far from home. Dépaysé encpasulates nicely the idea of not just being out of your own pays or country, but also a bit discombobulated.

I thought coming to Hong Kong would make me feel dépaysée, but in fact it didn’t take long at all to get used to being in such a radically new (for me) and different part of the world.

[Mount Zero Books]

It helps that our daughter Alice is living here with her partner, Wilson, who is from Hong Kong. And that they had drawn up the best-ever Google Doc itinerary for our week-long visit which had taken in the preferences of the three of us (me, Simon, Phoebe) and combined them with HK must-sees and a large number of food and drink destinations to produce a plan for which highly-paid travel agents would receive 5* reviews.

[at the flower market]

Alice and Wilson moved here last September, so we hadn’t seen them for a loooooooong time. It took a while for a visit to be possible due to Covid regulations, so we booked as soon as we could. And here we are, eating dim sum, char siu, noodles, crispy duck, wonton soup, and fabulously wobbly egg tarts.

That is, when we are not travelling on the amazing Central-Mid-Levels escalator - 800m, the world’s longest outdoor covered escalator system - which takes the pain out of going up steep inclines.

Or getting breathlessly excited in the Botanical Gardens about the flowers which are months ahead of the UK (if they ever actually bloom there),

like roses, snapdragons, hydrangeas, gerberas, pinks, foxgloves - not to mention all sorts of beautiful hibiscus.

Despite the brilliant escalator, we have done a lot of walking up and down slopes and steps and I feel I should now have the kind of defined calf muscles you see on professional cyclists (sadly this is not the case). Hong Kong is a fascinating place:

[view from The Peak via the fabulous Peak Tram - also beautiful butterflies )not pictured)]

ridiculously tall, thin buildings like sprouting out of the green slopes like enoki mushrooms. Sleek, shiny, corporate mega-buildings, neon lights,

and hand-painted signs, a vast choice of international shops and brands, masses of local, traditional eating places and a whole street of shops which has been selling dried seafood since the nineteenth century.

We’ve been on a Star Line ferry (made in Hull) across to Kowloon to see Yayoi Kusama at M+. It wasn’t as great as anticipated (more pumpkins needed) but the free exhibition on the visual culture of HK since the 1960s was excellent and far more relevant to our visit (protest graffiti, solving the problems of tiny dwelling spaces, contemporary architecture).

And I shall never cease to marvel at the fact that so many outdoor plants here are the same ones we strive to keep alive indoors all year round in the UK.

But the best thing of all? The one thing that can’t be beaten anywhere else in the world? Seeing Alice and Wilson.

I miss them, but mostly try not to think about it. But oh, how brilliant to see them in the flesh, to have them show us their world, to lounge on their settee and watch YouTube videos together, to have them roll their eyes at some of the things we say, to hug them.

We’ll be on our way back on Sunday morning. Dry-eyed, I hope, and missing Alice and Wilson already, but with a bag of bamboo steamers, a colourful array of chopsticks, hopes for visible calf muscles, and an insight into life in HK where I definitely don't feel dépaysée.

Happy Sunday!