The quest for Kung Fu

The geography of Hong Kong is amazing. The city has leapt up among tall, steep hills covered in now-regenerating forest. The buildings echo the shape of the hills. Massive concrete high-rises – I estimate forty, fifty stories the norm. The up-side is a compact city - the human and wild seem very close here.

The city of Hong Kong covers a peninsula and a small archipelago. This means the water is a very important route of transport. The thin strait of Victoria harbour, (between Kowloon and Hong Kong Island), is turbulent with activity. Dozens of ferries, tub-like wooden fishing boats and even floating cranes chug through. Despite the human activity, the harbour does not seem devoid of other life. Egrets and birds of prey are common, and one fisherman is pulling up a net by the busiest commercial area. Bags not eating the fish though.

The scale of the port is simply staggering. If you take the bus from the airport you speed past it on the motorway. It still takes about five minutes to pass. Gargantuan cranes, shipping containers packed in lots two wide, four high, five long. I estimate about 50,000 containers on the docks, filled with who knows what – DVD players, shoes, rice, sofas. Still more containers out there on the harbour, sitting on the decks of floating cranes (some as large as small container ships) that lurk silently in the harbour. Sea trade is where it is at.

The smell of Hong-Kong: a delicious mix of Chinese restaurant, tropical jungle, and rubbish dump. The smell will linger on the clothes I have washed at a laundry there.

One of my ‘goals’ in HK is to see some martial arts. Kung fu is hard to find. Banners with Jackie Chan’s face, the statue of Bruce Lee on the tacky ‘avenue of the stars’. In the evening I ask at the ‘cultural centre’ about kung fu movies. ‘Oh, Chinese kung fu? People don’t like anymore.’ I mention the Bruce Lee statue just across the road. She sees my point, but makes it clear that I’m probably not going to walk into a picture theatre somewhere and see some kung fu. I’m puzzled. Come to think of it though, Jackie Chan’s image had been advertising a western style gym.

Tai Chi I do get to see. Hooray! During my brief stay I come across the classic image of a bunch of locals practicing after work in a park in Hong Kong Island. But even more inspiring is the couple practicing ‘push hands’ (a sort of slow motion combat) back in Kowloon in the evening. Powerful grace.

I depart from Hong Kong Airport, with its architecture reminiscent of a hangar and huge windows that look out to the mainland and mountainous Lantau Island. I feel sad leaving this place. The next step will be much further away in space, much closer in culture: Great Britain.