I’ve always wanted to visit Hong Kong. There’s a ring, a charm to the name. Hong Kong. Like the kind of place you could eat sautéed mermaid and sip taipan venom in a neon alley. A place that is hard, gentle, elegant and gauche all at the same time. It sounds like the kind of place where bland dies under mysterious circumstances and no one asks questions. It is my kind of city. Real. guileless. Not a mannequin city. And like a Siren, it calls out to me. The promise is enchanting. I’ve got to go.
But Hong Kong is not around the corner. It is 11, 800 km from Lagos. In the Far East. I needed a very good reason to visit. The only way a visit would make economic sense is if I could combine it with a trip to another Asian country. Say China, Vietnam or Thailand. I’d kill birds with one stone.
That economic sense finally arose through the Canton Fair. I was travelling to China to attend the fair. Guangzhou, the capital of Guangdong Province, China, is home to the Canton Fair.
Several thousand years earlier, Hòutǔ Niángniáng, the Chinese Goddess Queen of the Earth, was proactive. She knew that one day, a Jide Alade would need to cross from mainland China to Hong Kong. So she pulled the landmass that would become Hong Kong to nestle against Guangdong Province. A bullet train zips between Guangzhou and Hong Kong in 60 minutes.
I owe that Hòutǔ Niángniáng one Yoruba demon.
But as a Nigerian passport holder, I needed a visa to visit Hong Kong. Even to transit through Hong Kong International Airport.
You’d think that, since Hong Kong is part of China, a Chinese visa would grant entry to Hong Kong. But no. Hong Kong is a Special Administrative Region of China. It operates under the “one country, two systems” concept and runs a separate government from Beijing.
The good news is that Hong Kong issues e-visas. The visa application process is straightforward but thorough. The visa process takes about 5 weeks. The good thing about the visa process is that you pay the visa fee only when the visa is approved.
I got a 3-month, single-entry visa with a five-day stay. I didn’t mind. Five days were all I needed, as stated in my itinerary. This was an exploratory trip.
Crossing from China into Hong Kong
After attending the Canton Fair, I hopped over to Shenzhen for a few days. Shenzhen is China’s Silicon Valley. Robotaxis, drone deliveries, and humanoid robots. That city lives 50 years in the future. But more important to me is that Shenzhen is also in Guangdong Province and a 15-minute bullet train ride to Hong Kong’s West Kowloon Station.
I departed from Shenzhen’s Futian Railway Station for Hong Kong. China has an affliction. It does not know how to do small. The Futian Railway Station is the largest high-speed underground rail station in Asia. As a matter of fact, it is the second-largest underground station in the world, next to New York’s Grand Central Station.
The West Kowloon Station is no less impressive. It uses over 4,000 irregular glass panels, spans 25 acres, and is 30 meters below ground level. China can’t help itself.
West Kowloon Station has a unique co-location immigration setup. Both mainland China and Hong Kong have border control sections in place. I went through the Chinese border control first. They stamped me out of mainland China.
About 15 meters after the Chinese immigration is a yellow line. This yellow line demarcates mainland China from Hong Kong. Once you step over this line, you will have left mainland China and crossed into Hong Kong or vice versa. Hong Kong immigration is about 20 meters from the yellow line.
The implication of this line was not lost on me. I had a single-entry Chinese visa. Once I stepped over this line, crossing over from China to Hong Kong, my single-entry visa would be used up. If I forgot something two meters behind the line, I couldn’t just cross over again to retrieve it. I’d have to get a new Chinese visa to cross the line. That thought was both exhilarating and daunting.
I stepped over the line into Hong Kong. The die is cast now.
The blokes at the Hong Kong border section looked surprised to see me. As if my spaceship crash-landed in front of them. I reckon they don’t see many black dudes enter Hong Kong through the land border.
The border control bloke who attended to me also looked unsure about me. Like I wasn’t supposed to be here. He didn’t scowl, but he didn’t smile either. He gave off the air that his head would end up on a pike if I turned out to be an illegal immigrant and slipped past his scrutiny. He asked if I’d leave Hong Kong after my visit.
Leave? No, sir! I want to stay here and eat Bo Lo Bao forever!
He enrolled my biometrics and returned my passport. The e-gate parted.
I’m in, ladies!
The No. 1 Concrete Jungle.
What were my first impressions of Hong Kong?
The skyscrapers!
Hong Kong has the most skyscrapers of any city in the world!
There are 569 buildings taller than 150m, and a staggering 2,500 buildings taller than 100m!
My hotel was a “puny” 38-storey affair. A Peter Dinklage in a sea of Shaquille O’Neals.
I kept thinking that if Hong Kong had Face-Me-I-Face-Yous, they’d be high-rises too. I mean, look at the residential buildings below!
Courtesy Peter Stewart
Peter Stewart Photography
@iamjidealade
Here’s another fun fact: Hong Kong has more people living on the 15th floor and above than any other city in the world.
You obviously can’t live in Hong Kong and have acrophobia.
The funny thing is, Hong Kongers are superstitious.
Yup.
The number “4” gives Hong Kongers the heebie-jeebies.
Many buildings “skip” the 4th floor or floors ending in “4.” Elevators don’t have the numbers 4, 14, 24, 34, 44, 54 and so on. In some buildings, entire blocks, like the 40th through 49th, are skipped.
This, I gathered, is due to Chinese Feng Shui beliefs, in which, for instance, numbers are believed to carry energy (qi). People thus avoid numbers associated with bad luck or bad energy. Like the number 4. The Cantonese word for “4” is sei3, which sounds like the Cantonese word for “death,” sei2. The number 14 sounds like sup-sei (“surely die”), and 24 is yih-sie (“easy to die”).
I wish someone had told me about this design quirk when checking into my hotel. The elevator jumped from the third floor to the fifth, and from the thirteenth floor to the fifteenth.
What witchery is this? Una pursue me reach here?
Being black in Hong Kong.
What else was noticeable about Hong Kong?
Well, as a black person in Hong Kong, I’d advise you not to be up to any skulduggery. The cops will be at your door in two minutes.
That’s because black people make up less than 0.1% of Hong Kong’s population. In town, I thought I’d hear people whisper, “There’s the Nigerian dude staying at the Ramada in Sai Ying Pun.”
Yet, despite probably being the only black person in any 10-mile radius, Hong Kongers didn’t seem to care much about my presence. I was vexed.
For in mainland China, from whence I came, I was a celebrity. People stole glances at me, and strangers walked up to me for pictures. But here in Hong Kong, zilch. No surreptitious glance. No entreaty for pictures. It is see-finish, a callous indifference to my corporeal existence. A prophet is without honour in a foreign land.
English is widely spoken.
In mainland China, hardly anyone spoke English. But in Hong Kong, English is an official language alongside Chinese (Cantonese).
That was most pleasing. I didn’t have to thrust phones in people’s faces to communicate.
This curious affair arose because, up until 1997, Hong Kong was a British colony, a spoil of the Opium War. Back in those days, the British Empire was like Thanos. Brutish and all-conquering. It forced China to lease Hong Kong to the Empire for 99 years after China lost the Opium War. The lease expired in 1997 and Hong Kong reverted to China. But the vestiges of British rule still remain. In the names of roads and places, in the left-hand drive and in the Type G plug and sockets. I even found a Guinness-themed bar and an M&S grocery. Even the contactless public transport card is named the “Octopus card.”
Ring any bell? “Oyster card?” “Octopus card?”
I was also half expecting to hear “Mind the gap…” on the MTR.
The Ding-dings.
One other iconic feature of Hong Kong is the beloved double—decker tram, or ding ding. It is so-called because of the “ding” warning sound their bell makes. These fossils have been rattling along Hong Kong Island since 1904. I’d be remiss if I didn’t ride in one.
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Misadventure on Victoria Peak.
I’d always wanted a picture of Victoria Harbour from Victoria Peak, but from a less cliché vantage point.
Before leaving Lagos, I’d watched a YouTube video about a less beaten path to a wonderful vista. It involved a “short hike” around Victoria Peak.
That was exactly what I was going to do.
It was a stupid decision.
Because if God wanted us to hike, He would have made us pack mules.
I promptly got lost.
Victoria Peak is the highest point on Hong Kong Island. As such, the hiking trails had exerting inclines and descents. I’m in rude health, but I’m no pack mule.
In over an hour of walking, the only company I had was my anguished thoughts.
What if a wild animal jumped out of the bush? What if the Predator in “Alien vs Predator” appeared? No one would hear my screams in these bushes. There was no human presence. Only the click of raptors’ claws and the screech of pterodactyls.
Wọn ti get mì last last.
After an hour and a half of trudging, I heard human voices. Then I saw them. Two elderly couples looking over what turned out to be the Aberdeen Harbour. They smiled at me. That smile was sunshine on a cheerless day.
Then, 100 meters farther, I happened upon a Caucasian family walking their dogs. Dad, Mom and two kids. The father and daughter wore Manchester United jerseys.
Angels often wear Man United jerseys.
Take me Home, United Road
To the place I belong
To Old Trafford, to see United
Take me Home, United Road
To the place I belong
To Old Trafford, to see United
Take me Home, United Road
The dad gave me directions out of my tribulation.
I abandoned the search for my unique vista. Hasta la vista.
Victoria Harbour or Aberdeen Harbour, harbour na harbour.
Aberdeen Harbour. @iamjidealade
A visit to Mong Kok.
A trip to Hong Kong is incomplete without a visit to Mong Kok.
Mong Kok has to be the liveliest and most densely populated district in Hong Kong. Apartments are stacked on top of each other like Jenga and the energy is frenetic. This is a place where a snail could flip you a birdie for being too slow. The closest place I’d liken it to in Nigeria is Lagos Island.
Mong Kok does not believe in personal space. Every street appears to have negotiated a fragile peace treaty with traders, pedestrians, cars and lost tourists like me. I like the vibe. I should have booked my hotel here.
Mong Kok is where you buy anything and everything. But beware! The place has a magical talent for making you buy stuff you didn’t know existed or needed. I went there looking for luggage tags and fridge magnets but almost left with an aquarium.
“Sneakers Street” is an iconic shopping area for sneakers and apparel. It is a whole street full of sneaker shops. The missus is a sneakerhead, so I had to visit.
Pro tip: You’d find more options and better prices at the Citygate Outlet Mall. It’s on the outskirts of town, the last stop on the MTR Tung Chung Line. You could combine it with a trip to Big Buddha.
“Ladies Market” is also a popular shopping area in Mong Kok. It is a 1-kilometre-long open-air market. Cheap fashion, accessories, souvenirs, gadgets and gimmicks, suitcases: this is the place.
And what is Mong Kok without street food? That is one of my favourite parts of travelling. Food. And I’m in the place where food is an art. Peking duck, roast goose, stinky tofu, wonton noodles, skewered pig intestines; dial my number. I always travel with Imodium.
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Note: for one of the best dim sum in Hong Kong, drop by Tim Ho Wan. It’s an inexpensive Michelin-rated restaurant. You’d gorge for $30.
Other Hong Kong Attractions.
I took a day trip to Lantau Island to see the Tian Tan Buddha or “Big Buddha.” It was a 50-minute bus ride from the Citygate Outlet Mall. The ride to the monastery was scenic. But the road snaked and wound around steep drops.
Jide no like steep drops. Jide fall into oblivion.
In town, I also took the iconic Star Ferry across the Hong Kong Harbour. It was touristy but calming. And oh, there was the visit to the Monster Building too. 10,000 people live in that enclave. Hong Kong, you are ridiculous!
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Yet, I left Hong Kong unsatiated. There is more to this wonderful island than can be exhausted in five days. My trip was exploratory, to see if Hong Kong is worth a second and third visit.
It is.
I will be back.
Hungrier.
Freer.
This is so so good. I have been following your writings for a long time and I love how you carry us along.
Like I have been doing since your last post, looking forward to your next post sir