27
Jun

countdown

It has been a while since I updated this, mainly due to the fact that I’ve barely surfaced for air in the last 4 months.

But alas! I finally depart the sunny shores of England from Harwich via means of a Stena ferry to the Hook of Holland on Tuesday 1st July.

I’ve planned the first month of the trip, which includes a visits to Amsterdam, Hannover, Dresden, Prague, Cesky Krumlov, Vienna, Budapest, Krawkow, Zakopane, Ljubljana, Lake Bled and Lake Bohinj in Slovenia.

After that, it is most likely that I will be relying on the good people at 63336.com to plan a route for me. The anticipated lack of control over destinations thereonin does leave me feeling uneasy. I could end up in an organic pig farm in Bulgaria or lost in the middle of the Moldovan countryside, but I do like a challenge!

Bon voyage…

05
Feb

tian tan buddha, lantau island

The New Lantau Bus Company bill the trip to Po Lin Monastery and the Tian Tan Buddha from Tung Chung as ‘The journey to enlightenment starts here’. They weren’t far wrong either; after enlightening me of $73HKD I was subjected to the most hair raising bus trip of my life. After ten minutes I already felt closer to God. I can only assume that the driver was trying out to be the Stig on the next series of Top Gear, with Lantau Island being his practice circuit.

I settled myself onto the bus and was endeared to find handles attached to the headrest. My seat was missing a handle, which was most unfortunate as it would have come in handy when Stig took hairpin corners at 70mph, and ploughed through small villages on steep cliff edge drops and break neck speed. One would think he would have slowed down when he nearly took out a poor unsuspecting road-worker, but nothing seemed to deter him. To his credit, Stig got us to Po Lin in one piece, if not a little shaken.

The Po Lin Monestary is something of a tourist mecca. As a testament to it’s popularity, a sprawl of stalls selling cheap and tacky souvenirs has sprung up next to the bus station in an effort to lure in the tourist dollars. It’s a shame really as the place is so remote and charming but I shouldn’t be so surprised and it didn’t really detract from the experience.

The Po Lin Monastery was a hive of activity with locals saying prayers and lighting brightly coloured incense candles. I had a brief look around but felt like I was intruding so made my way up the 2 million steps to see Big Buddha. The Big Buddha is big, and stands 34 metres high.

I took a Ngong Ping Skyrail back to Tung Chung and am still pondering if it was an experience that brought me even closer to death than Stig’s bus ride. The 5.7km long Skyrail only reopened last month after rigorous security testing. In June 2007, one of the cars ‘just fell off’ the cable, plunging deep into the wooded valley below. Luckily, the car was empty but it was enough to force local authorities to close the attraction until they deemed it safe enough for the public.

I was fortunate enough to get a car to myself; I don’t think I could have coped with 16 overexcited school children bouncing up and down. However, when my car did reach the summit the lighter weight meant that I was subjected to considerably more wind and so a swinging motion commenced while I huddled the middle pole and tried to take photographs.

Upon returning to Tung Chung transport interchange I made the decision to visit Tai O, a small traditional fishing village on the west of the Island. The bus pulled up and to my abhorrence it was Stig. He had obviously decided to change routes and finish me off once and for all. Deja vu kicked in as we sped through the same small villages as before, screeching breaks, tooting horns and the like. He eventually swerved into Tai O station and threw us all from the bus before pulling on a pair of blue aviators, greasing back his hair in the mirror and speeding off into the distance to chauffeur his next unsuspecting clientele.

05
Feb

kowloon

According to Hong Kong’s primary news channel, 3rd February 2008 was the coldest day of the winter so far. The south China winter monsoon is the worst to hit in 50 years and had made its way towards Guandong, thus thwarting plans of a day trip across the border. Hong Kong Tourist Board have cancelled 500 tours to the region and stampedes of evacuees at various Guandong train stations have left one woman dead with thousands fleeing the region in a headstrong effort to find shelter. News images showed Chinese police trying to control the pressing crowds - a scene which looks unlikely to ease all week - and report that the price of candles has shot up to 100 times the usual going rate in areas affected by blackouts. I consoled myself by taking a walk through Kowloon up towards the Lunar Flower market.

Nathan Road runs north-south from in the heart of western Kowloon. The area is a flurry of excitement; people walk elbow to elbow and you cannot fail but to glance up at the colourful array on neon signs in a bewildered state of awe. Of course, doing so would mean that its more than likely you’ll unwittingly find yourself underneath one of the hundreds of taxi’s or ‘Public Light Buses’ hurtling around street corners at a startling speed.

The Public Light Buses consist of 16 seats and are similar in appearance to the camper vans that stoned hippies from bygone days would use as transportation to summer festivals. Most are coloured in the same hues as ice cream vans with crass adveritisements emblazened across the side.

After a few wrong turns I negotiated my way north towards Fa Hui Park. The park is located north of Boundary Street; the demarcation between the Kowloon Peninsula and the adjacent New Territories. The Lunar Flower markets were pleasant enough, and I soon learned the importance of kumquats during Chinese New Year celebrations. As a symbol of prosperity, most stores and homes place a kumquat plant outside their front entrance to symbolise prosperity they hope to gain over the forthcoming months. Everywhere I looked, kumquat plants were being lugged around by crippled old Chinese ladies. Using their umbrellas as walking sticks they slowly hobbled on their way, dropping kumquats to form a trail that vanished from sight. The market’s busiest time will be 6th February, when locals will drop by to pick up brightly coloured blooms just before the New Year Celebrations begin.

A short walk across Boundary Street brought me to Yuen Po Street Bird Garden. Small songbirds of various colour and plumage lined the streets in beautiful ornate birdcagesmade of teak and bamboo. I found the way in which the elderly local men studied these birds very bemusing. Hoards of pensioners cowered around cages, poking their frail fingers into the cages and whistled to the birds. If the birds returned a tune then the men would embed a wad of notes into the sellers hand before making off with their prize.

I later learned that a birds singing prowess will often determine its price. Which is possible why a cage of songbirds with more reserved personalities had been placed precariously above a garbage disposal bin with a sign that read ‘For the disposal of dead birds only’. If that didn’t spur them to break into a chirpy tune then it appears nothing else would.

I carried on towards New Kowloon with a brief visit to the site of the historical Kowloon Walled City. The design of the Kowloon Walled City Park is based on the Jiangian garden style of the early Qing Dynasty. It is basically very similar to the Chinese Garden of Friendship in Sydney.

I flicked amongst the tourist information leaflets and found one about exterminating rats which was oddly misplaced and unthinkably inhospitable seeing as though the country is on the brink of celebrating the Year of the Rat.

I took the Metro for the first time from Lok Fu to Jordan to look around Temple Street Markets. I can finally comprehend why I have heard Sydneysiders winge for the past two years about the Sydney Transit Authority. It stinks in comparison to the MTR in Hong Kong. Here, you are practically spoon fed your destination and everything is so easy to find, it’s clean, it’s fast and it’s cheap.

The markets on Mong Kok literally sweep you off your feet – I had to take refuge in numerous doorways as I bodysurfed my way down Nathan Road on a sea of people in the wrong direction. After hankering after some yum cha I somehow finally ended up at Pizza Hut. Pizza Hut in Hong Kong is unlike any Pizza Hut I have ever seen. It took five pages of sifting through apperatifs, appetisers and gourmet European fusion dishes until I reached the pizza section!




Where is Claire?

In a vehement attempt to escape the trappings of a routine lifestyle, I've decided to devote the next couple of years of my life to the random exploration of the planet. At this juncture I have little notion of the places I'll be visiting, what I'll be doing and who I'll meet, but I do hope that you'll be able to somehow interact in my big adventure. Who knows, we may even meet on the road...

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