Hacking knows no bounds

It’s only thirty years old and “Made in china”. The punters flock either by standard or crystal cabin. Some will take their offspring to enjoy the monkeys, others a walk with a Prince and his midlife crisis. The affluent will enjoy a Starbucks for $43 and pickup a shiny new pair of Sterling Silver Chopsticks.


The highlight of Hong Kong for me was the Ngong Ping 360 Cable Car ride to the top of Lantau Island, where after clearing through the clouds on an overcast and rainy day, the views are all the more impressive and mysterious. Mountains stand tall and jut their peaks above the clouds as the enormous drive train heaves my glass-floored cabin in to the heavens. It’s a sense of freedom I imagine only pilots enjoy.



Stepping across the border from the New Territories in to Kowloon, the change is dramatic; where once countryside spread itself thickly over mountainous regions littered with hiking trails and merely a handful of ancestral homes, suddenly high-density “pigeon holes” dominate the landscape. My walking path goes from straight to zigzag, as I struggle to navigate through the sheer number of bodies.

With a single window, bunk bed/sofa, sink and cooking area large enough for a single pot, these Government-provided one-room flats are minimalistic in design. A population of over 7 million and the highest density of heads ever recorded (53,000 in one square kilometre), would seem to necessitate these humble quarters; though with many military buildings left abandoned since the departure of the British, the Chinese government does little to alleviate the issue. It does, however, condone the Beverley Hills weekend apartments, located in Tolo Harbour, with a beautiful view over the sea. At a cost of $24 million though, I do wonder how much of the asking price the local fishermen receive. Their floating village has been home and livelihood for several centuries, but with Phase 3 of the construction underway, all will have been gravitated to their new habitation; first come-first served disbanded pigeon-holes. The view would simply be spoiled by them after all. It’s the kind of cynicism I thought only the Nazis were capable of.

It may be a nice handbag, but I certainly wouldn’t pay the $35,000 asking price for it. An influx of wealthy mainland Chinese has ensured that many people will, however, only to turf it out as the fashion wind of fickleness changes direction. The same is true of all manner of belongings; from technology to sport. Whilst running the Bride’s Pool Road from Luk Keng Road to Ting Kok Road, I noticed many cyclists displaying Bianchi, Trek, Cannondale and other carbon fibre masterpieces as a sign of wealth. Sad though it is, my outrage at the sacrilege of these machines being walked (not cycled), around like trophies will go unheard and the equipment wasted on businessmen wanting to rub dollar bills in to faces with all the subtlety of a pneumatic drill, with coarse sandpaper after for any missed parts. Second hand camera shops and car businesses thrive on this wastefulness, where the wealth is in extreme contrast to the humble average salary of a fluent English speaker.

Walk around and you will inevitably find your way blocked by an impressive amount of railings, forcing a navigational change. It’s as infuriating as it is challenging, though as just the tip of the iceberg, these pedestrian control measures are merely the beginning. A clearly shocked governing British body established enough signage to keep the global paper industry solvent: No smoking - $5000 fixed fine. No Littering - $1500 fixed fine. No spitting - $1500 maximum fine. Check your manners, cover your cough and sneeze (minimum $1500 fine). Wash your hands. The list is extensive and seemingly inexhaustible. Unfortunately and try as they might, hacking knows no bounds and as a running theme through Asia; it is as ever-present here as anywhere else. More of a habit and affliction, than necessary bodily function, some seem intent on treating it as a sport. The hacking Olympic games if you will, where volume, length and size are all competed for. In itself it may be barely acceptable, though with women occasionally joining in too, it can be an excellent way to remove all traces of femininity in an instant. Perhaps that is the desired effect.


As my pigeon hole, the two bedroom serviced apartment on the 24th floor is considered spacious for the area. One bed is under 5’5” long, making even my humble frame compressed and unable to extend fully. The other may fit a Hobbit couple, but certainly not two adults. Even more surprising is the heights to which the numerous sky-scraping monstrosities have been developed. An average of 50 stories dictates some clever engineering issues to be tackled, when combined with the demands of affluence and attention to privacy-hunting buyers. It’s an increasingly difficult problem to solve, with compromise the only true solution.


If you may be wondering what to call the citizens of Hong Kong, the generally accepted term is “Hong Kongers” (I prefer Hong Kongians). Whilst considered by the Chinese government to be simply an extension of China, many people I met do not feel any draw to the “motherland” from which the British took control. It may be offensive to refer to a local as “Chinese” here, with some instantly retorting “I’m not Chinese, I’m from Hong Kong”. And it’s not difficult to see why; a separate, independent currency, a largely incompatible dialect, vehicles passing on the opposing side and differing laws make Hong Kong – for all intents and purposes – it’s own country. What will happen after the remaining 32 years of Special Administrative Region has passed is questionable, but one thing is clear; that the current and previous generations will resist any mainstream change with the stubbornness of their ex-British protectorates.



To the South Bank of Kowloon and many attractions can be found to while away an extended stay. And with space to both walk and breath, it’s the perfect spot to enjoy some light entertainment in the evening. I’m of the opinion that music is important to any display and it seems a shame that instead of an Orchestra, I am blared the kind of music you might expect from a Nintendo title, or a child’s cartoon; it almost makes the whole display farcical. Instead it may be an idea to head out on a boat and follow fishing trawlers in search of the elusive and threatened species of White and Pink Dolphins. Their numbers are heavily dwindling in response to the construction of the new airport, which as wholly reclaimed land has decimated a large part of their natural habitat.


Very reminiscent of London, the manners and attitudes of the locals here leaves plenty of desirables. To my surprise I have found barging, pushing and undercutting perfectly acceptable, however, one clear sign of British influence is the uncanny ability of queuing. This, Hong Kongers have honed to as fine an art as their ex-protectorates. With so many people it won’t take long for one to form; quick get in queue before the additions at the end make it impossible to join in time. It’s one of the few things the British remain world leaders in, and can be proud to have passed on.



With so much money, why wouldn’t you have one? They’re so cheap after all and I really need the help! An influx of Malaysian, Indonesian and Sri Lanken immigrants in search of work “helping” the wives of financiers and bankers hasn’t helped the population figures. However, these “helpers” (as they are known here), are simply modern day slaves earning an average of 3-400 pounds each month to clean, cook, iron, wash and effectively raise the most spoiled, selfish, arrogant and self-centred children you are ever likely to meet. “Water. I want some water. Now”, little Adrian bellows to his slave atop the Dolphin watching yacht; it’s insolence the kind that can only be responded to with a swift back hand to the right cheek, followed by an imprint of palm and fingers on the gluteus maximus. This is considered perfectly normal here, however, with one-child housewives recruiting a slave as they “really need the help”, when everywhere else on the planet parents raise families in to double figures and work. For the first time, I have clear proof that my mantra on humanity holds true; humans thrive on hardship.