They're everywhere!
A relatively new temple. I've forgotten the name, but the grounds were beautiful.
Same temple.
Planning.
This sort of adorable graffiti was everywhere! A serial artist was on the loose. For the full set, see my Facebook album : )
Eerie, shrouded high-rises.
Temple roof, with apartments behind.
A scale model of the Kowloon Walled City. 33,000 people lived in this .01 sq. miles of sunless ladder-laced claustrophobic elevated rubble, before it was demolished by the government in 1993. It was virtually ungoverned, and controlled in large part by an organized crime syndicate. Some of the alleys were lit by florescent lights, even during the day, because so little sunlight reached the lower levels. Today, a public park stands in its place.
Roasted chestnuts.
St. Paul's Church, in Macau.
Daniel and Maya, with the Grand Lisboa visible through an arch of St. Paul's Church.
I had no part in this. I'm just the photographer. The Portuguese would have cause to be furious. If they still owned the fortress LOL.
Offerings.
Our guide for the hike.
My favorite picture from the trip, I think.
Notice a... discrepancy? In their heights? Screw you China, for trying to make Obama look like Hu Jintao's pet imp.
Shipping cranes.Saturday morning. We decided to visit China's other Special Administrative Region: Macau.
We left around 10am, which was later than we had meant to. This was due in part to the grey, insubstantial quality the light that struggled through the inadequate window. We arrived at the ferry dock and bought our tickets- about $350 HK each, if I remember correctly. With 90 minutes to kill before departure, we wandered aimlessly around Central Station, at one point wandering into a Toys R Us (the only difference from the American branches being that instead of G.I. Joe, they had People's Liberation Army action figures).
We lost track of time while eating lunch in the ferry terminal, and realized with a shock that we had five minutes to get on board! Our tickets were pretty clear that we needed fifteen minutes to go through customs safely. We were, thankfully, still allowed through, despite being late.
The area of Macau where the Wynn Hotel shuttle bus dropped us off was a gambler's paradise. The skyline was made up largely of casinos, brilliantly lit at night. In contrast, the sights that most drew our attention hearkened back hundreds of years to the Portuguese settlement on Macau: the Ruins of St. Paul's church, with its ghostly facade etched on a hilltop against the sky; a stonework fortress; an old lighthouse (which still functions, albeit with an electric light), at the top of a tall, steep climb.
The sun was already setting by the time we found ourselves at the ruins of St. Paul's, so it was completely dark by the time we had climbed up to the lighthouse, and quite late by the time we started searching about for dinner. We found one lovely looking Portuguese restaurant, with wood-and-plaster walls and a cozy, lively feel, but we were told that it was booked straight until 9:30pm (our return ferry was scheduled for 10:30). A man sitting by the door told me with a satisfied smile that it was worth the wait. However, we didn't feel like waiting for over an hour to get into a restaurant, so we reluctantly began searching elsewhere.
About ten minutes later, on a whim, I ran back to the restaurant and asked again if there wasn't any way they could fit us in before 9:30. This time, the owner told me "Well, it's tight. Very tight. But we have a seat for three. It's very tight." I told him I didn't mind! We got in! Woo! It was my first and last really good meal this month, I think. I had steak and potatoes with seafood soup. Ahhh!
On our way back, we took a taxi to Macau Tower, but tickets to the observation deck were far too costly, so we ended up wandering across the street, into a huge culinary fair. What! And right after dinner! Maya and I got some icecream, at least, and perused the stalls for a little while before getting on a shuttlebus to the ferry dock.
However, it was the wrong ferry dock! When we realized this, we ran for a taxi, hailed it, and after a fifteen minute drive, arrived just in time to board our return ferry. Wow, the stress never ends.
The next day was our date with Buddha. Kamakura was nice and all, but I wanted some real Buddha, and I wasn't going to be satisfied with anything short of spectacular. Enter the Great Buddha of Lantau island: Serene on its mountain-top, 110 ft. in height and 280 tons in bulk.
The surrounding hillside is peppered with gift shops and a 7-Eleven, selling everything from fortunes to chopsticks and overpriced replicas of the buddha.
I had had this nagging feeling ever since we had to decide between the expensive cablecar and the bus in order to get to the buddha, but then it hit me: This is a tourist trap. A soulless, capitalistic tourist trap. The hiking trails are paved over in cement, there's a high-priced food court next to the temple, and the temple is all but screaming for donations from tourists.
The Buddha itself was spectacular, but more as a feat of engineering than one of spiritual devotion, or so it seemed to me. Climbing the 268 steps to the buddha's mountaintop platform, Maya happened to spy a pair of discarded panties on the staircase. The world is full of mysteries.
We hiked down off the mountain, but my shoes were hot. Daniel and I ended up going barefoot. A scruffy old dog lead us through the first twenty minutes of our hike, pausing at first every once in a while to check on us, and finally leaving us behind. The whole path was covered in concrete and uncomfortable on the knees, especially going down hill. At one point we spied a wild banana (or plantain? not sure) tree, growing in the forest, and Daniel and I managed to snatch a handful of large bittersweet bananas to eat as we walked.
We passed through the vegetable garden of a little Buddhist monastery on the way down. Finally we hit a bus stop, which carried us to downtown Lantau.
We took a train straight from there to the University of Hong Kong, to meet up with Leila (Daniel's old friend from his days in Italy). My feet were killing me- scuffed, mosquito-bit (it's still summer in Hong Kong!), and worst of all I had lost my socks at some point on the trail, so my shoes were unbearably stifling.
Imagine my relief when, within ten minutes of arriving at the University, Leila guides us to a student shop where I can buy cheap socks. Never have I felt such satisfaction from slipping on a pair of socks, and never again will I.
The University is beautiful, hugging a stretch of coast, with many dorms getting a clear view of the ocean. We spent our last night in Hong Kong drinking cheap beer by the seaside.
The next morning we were on our way back to Japan. Daniel and I had another good game of chess during the flight. In Narita Airport, there are signs in Japanese (without translations in other languages) which read "Welcome Home." For the first time, I really felt like I was returning home when I arrived in Japan.
The feeling was almost one of relief. It is difficult to articulate, but there is a sense of public order, decency, and mutual respect in Japan which I really missed in Hong Kong. It's good to be back.
Check my album on Facebook for many, many more pictures!
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