Robert’s memoir of his incredible life, Walking The Tycoons’ Rope, is Dymocks’ book of the month for May. The rags-to-riches story offers a rare look inside the unimaginably wealthy world of Hong Kong’s property tycoons, but the tales of his previous poverty — arriving in Hong Kong as a refugee and living beside Kowloon’s walled city — are equally compelling.

Robert was also interviewed last week by Time Out Hong Kong.

Following is an excerpt. The book is not just walking directions; it’s very visual, with lots of photographs — some modern and some historical — and colour maps for each walk. I’ve included a few random spreads among the text below; click them to view at full size. Happy hiking!

Route 12: Pok Fu Lam

The green western slopes of Hong Kong Island have long been used as a retreat from the city – first by missionaries and dairy farmers, and today by students and wealthier residents. Starting at the Peak and ending atop Mount Davis, this walk will exercise your knees and give you advance views of the heritage sites along the way.

Victoria Gap, where the Peak Tower stands, is a crossroads from which trails lead in half a dozen directions. The entrance to Pok Fu Lam Country Park is easily found directly opposite the bus station, and a car-free road leads straight down into peaceful forest. Old banyans clinging to the stone walls shade your descent into the valley.

These steep hillsides were saved from development by the need to protect Hong Kong’s water sources. This valley was dammed as early as 1863 and a reservoir – the colony’s first – was built down below to supply water to the city. An aqueduct ran around from Pok Fu Lam to Central, giving Conduit Road its name. Major tree planting took place at the same time to prevent soil erosion. Before then, most of Hong Kong Island’s uplands were bare, partly thanks to the grass cutters who scoured the hills to collect kindling. The forest suffered during the war years, when much of it was chopped down for firewood; but it has recovered well and you’re now able to walk through mature woodland.

Camellia and eagle’s claw flowers provide colour beside the path, and birdsong fills the air. In fact, it was the ‘pok fu’ bird which gave Pok Fu Lam its name – lam meaning ‘forest’ – although the original Chinese characters have changed. It’s often pronounced ‘Pock Fulham’ by expats more familiar with the London football club.

At the only fork in the road, turn right to carry on downhill, passing some bricked-up bunkers built by the British Army. The path now skirts the reservoir. Beside the dam, there’s an attractive old building now used by the country parks staff, and facing it an information board with old photos of the area. One picture shows a strange white castle which seems very out of place on the bare hillside. In fact this building is still there: now known as University Hall, it’s hidden from view by trees. As you pass the riding school on your left, the mansion stands above the other side of the road. You can go up the steps and through the low gateway for a closer look.

Douglas Castle, as it was originally called, was built in the 1860s by Scottish taipan Douglas Lapraik to serve as his country home. It looked rather different then: an octagonal penthouse surrounded by battlements commanded all-round sea views, four crenellated corner towers had mock arrow slits, and outhouses were built in identical Victorian Gothic style. The building has undergone many changes over the years and is now used as halls of residence for Hong Kong University students.

Lapraik arrived on the China coast as a young man, travelling to Macau in 1839 to become apprentice to an English watchmaker. Upon the founding of Hong Kong a few years later, he moved to the new colony and quickly became successful in the property and shipping trades. He built a dock at Aberdeen to service Royal Navy vessels, ran a line of steamships up the coast to Amoy and Foochow (modern Xiamen and Fuzhou) and helped establish the Hong Kong Chamber of Commerce. He was one of the investors in the Chinese junk Keying which made history by sailing to London and New York in 1846 – the boat amazed the crowds there, including Queen Victoria, who had never seen such a thing before. Perhaps his most notable legacy was the founding in 1863 of the Hongkong & Whampoa Dock Company. This was the first limited company in Hong Kong – prompting the government to start writing a Companies Ordinance – and its ultimate successor, Cheung Kong, still bears stock code 0001 at the Hong Kong Stock Exchange. The Douglas Steamship Company remained in existence until the 1980s.

After an outstanding career, Lapraik retired to Britain, and Douglas Castle was sold to the French Mission in 1894. The priests renamed it Nazareth House, added a chapel, and installed a printing press which produced religious texts in dozens of Asian languages. A prominent feature added at this time was the cast-iron spiral staircase which connects three floors. In 1954 the building passed into its current ownership; the chapel was converted into a dining hall and the crypt into a common room, and as University Hall it continues to house undergraduate students. Despite the building’s change of name, alumni are known as Castlers.

Béthanie stands on the other side of Pok Fu Lam Road. Built in 1873 by the same French Mission, it was designed as a peaceful retreat and sanatorium for priests returning from missionary work in China and elsewhere in the Far East. The Missions Etrangères de Paris departed in the 1970s, and for many years the building deteriorated while being used as a storehouse by Hong Kong University Press. Since 2003 it has been occupied by the Hong Kong Academy for Performing Arts, who have renovated it in innovative style: in particular, the original pitched roof, which was removed at some point in the past, has been reinstated using glass panels instead of tiles. The project won the UNESCO Asia-Pacific Heritage Award in 2008.

There’s a French Mission museum in the former wine cellar which is open every day until 6:00pm, and guided tours of the building are also conducted. The Bauhinia blakeana, Hong Kong’s official floral emblem, was discovered growing in the gardens of Béthanie by French priests in the 1880s.

On the far side of the building, two octagonal cowsheds have survived from the earliest days of Hong Kong’s milk industry – they gave rise to the company which became Dairy Farm. It was a Scottish pioneer of tropical medicine, Dr Patrick Manson, who came up with the idea of establishing a farm to supply hygienic fresh milk to the European population of Hong Kong. Eighty cows were imported and the Dairy Farm company began operations in 1886. The company later diversified into running supermarkets, in a joint venture with the Lane Crawford department store, until it bought the Wellcome retail chain and became part of the Jardines group.

The Pok Fu Lam farm was closed in 1983, and the two cattle sheds have now been converted into a performance space – one as a tiny theatre and the other as a foyer, which also has a small photo exhibition of the site’s history. Down the hill from these, another of the old Dairy Farm buildings is now used by the Chinese Cuisine Training Institute.

Across the road, Pok Fu Lam Village may look like a shanty town but it is in fact one of the few indigenous settlements remaining on Hong Kong Island. A lot of villagers were formerly employed on the dairy farm. Today, some of them grow crops on land which must be worth billions. Besides a large earth god shrine, the village has an unusual brick tower called the Lee Ling Immortal Pagoda which dates from about 1910.

Take a bus now a few stops north, passing the Queen Mary Hospital, to alight at the Chinese Christian Cemetery. The site has excellent fung shui, with wooded hills behind it and an unencumbered view out to sea. A stairway leads straight down through the terraces to the Pavilion of Eternity – ‘Erected by Wing Lock Tong, May 1951’ – and then to Victoria Road. Bear right and then take the steps down into a ramshackle stonemasons’ village. At the foot of the hill you’ll find the gates to the Tung Wah Coffin Home, a complex of buildings reminiscent of old Macau.

From the late 19th century onwards, tens of thousands of mainland Chinese people passed through Hong Kong on their way to Southeast Asia, North America, Australia and other places where fortunes in tin, gold or plain labour could be made. When they died, their wish was to be buried in their ancestral lands, and so their bodies were sent back the way they came. There was a need for temporary storage of their remains until transport could be found back to China, particularly in times of strife on the mainland, and so the trustees of the Man Mo temple on Hollywood Road founded the first coffin home in Kennedy Town in 1875. This was moved to the present site in 1899, and the Tung Wah Hospital took over its management. It is still in use; good burial plots can be hard to find in crowded Hong Kong, and caskets and urns can be kept here until one becomes available.

The site was nicely restored in 2004, winning praise from the Hong Kong Heritage Awards, but it’s private and you may not be allowed into the compound.

Further west along Victoria Road, Felix Villas is an elegant terrace of houses built in the 1920s and now used as quarters for university staff. Beyond it, a foundation stone for Victoria Road is set into its junction with Mount Davis Road. This was laid in 1897 to mark Queen Victoria’s 60th year on the throne; construction of the road commenced at the same time and was named in her honour. It was moved to its present site in 1977, coincidentally also a royal jubilee year, and a plate notes this fact.

On the coastal side of the road further on from here, a compound of white buildings behind a high wall has no sign, nor any official name on maps; not even a street number. Since the handover in 1997, it has been slowly crumbling into the surrounding greenery. Originally the mess of the Royal Engineers, the compound was transferred to the police force in the 1950s for use as a secret prison for Taiwanese spies – the colonial government was keen to avoid Hong Kong being used as a proxy battleground for Chinese Nationalist and Communist forces, and Special Branch detained anyone suspected of engaging in espionage.

But it was in 1967 that things really heated up. That summer, Hong Kong was rocked by riots inspired by the chaos of the Cultural Revolution over the border. Home-made bombs were planted in the streets. Leftists called strikes which paralysed public transport. Unionist demonstrators clashed with police, pro-Beijing crowds waving Mao’s red book picketed Government House, and a radio journalist who opposed the violence was murdered. At the border town of Sha Tau Kok, Chinese militia shot and killed a group of Hong Kong police officers. Fearing a possible invasion, the government decided to take radical action: pro-communist schools and newspapers were closed down, and the police were granted special powers to arrest leftist leaders. This involved the world’s first helicopter raids on multi-storey buildings. The political prisoners were brought to Pok Fu Lam and held in solitary confinement until the disturbances were over.

This hard-line response was generally supported by the Hong Kong public – the leftists’ violence having turned public opinion against them – and in appreciation of its steadfastness, the Hong Kong Police Force was later given the prefix ‘Royal’, which it kept until 1997. In Macau, by contrast, the Portuguese authorities failed to maintain order during the unrest, and control of the enclave was effectively handed over to China thirty years early.

The ‘white house’ compound may last have been used in 1989, when democratic activists smuggled away from the massacre in Tiananmen Square were debriefed here before being sent abroad. The Beijing crackdown prompted Hong Kong people of all political stripes to assist an emergency ‘underground railroad’ operation. Led by the Hong Kong Alliance in Support of Patriotic Democratic Movements in China, which still organizes the annual commemoration in Victoria Park, Operation Yellow Bird helped hundreds of students and intellectuals escape from the mainland. One such person involved was Lo Hoi-sing; formerly Hong Kong’s top man in China as head of the Trade Development Council’s Beijing office, his involvement in the rescue missions landed him in a mainland jail, and his career never recovered. Most of the details of the risky operation remain a secret.

Special Branch was disbanded as 1997 approached – some local detectives were given British passports to protect them from any post-handover retaliation – and the buildings have been empty since then.

The final stretch of this route involves a hike up quiet Mount Davis Path. A flight of 365 steps leads up to an isolated youth hostel, from which backpackers can enjoy 270-degree views of Victoria Harbour. To save their legs, a shuttle bus service links it to Sheung Wan.

Past the hostel, and up a steep slope built to haul giant 9.2-inch guns to the summit of this coastal peak, you’ll find the ruins of an extensive system of fortifications. Mount Davis is well positioned to guard the western approaches to the harbour, and five gun emplacements were built here in the early years of the 20th century to ward off potential French or Russian fleets. More cannons were installed at Jubilee Battery, at the foot of the peak. They were of little use against a land-based army, however, so were unable to defend Hong Kong during the Japanese invasion from the mainland in 1941. They came under heavy aircraft attack during the assault – and the damage can still be seen – but the last defenders held out right until the surrender on Christmas Day.

As well as exploring the bunkers, tunnels and command posts, you can end your walk the same way it was started: with panoramic views of sea and islands.

You’ll find answers to everything you wanted to know about China, such as:

What does “the slippery are very crafty” really mean?

What’s the etiquette for hitch-hiking in really small cars?

And what’s the best way to gatecrash a ketamine party?

Cecilie will show you how China is not only the most happening place on Earth, but also the most fun.

Saturday May 19, 2pm – 4pm at Dymocks bookshop in Discovery Bay Plaza, Lantau Island, call 2987 8494 for enquiries. Free entry. Wine will be served!

Select Books’ store can be found at 51 Armenian Street, Singapore 179939. Gazetted as a national monument, the building has historical significance as the location of Sun Yat-sen’s United Chinese Library from 1911 to 1987, and it sits in a neighbourhood with a rich cultural heritage. Check out Select’s blog to find out more about them.

If you missed the fun, you can still follow the discussion on the high-tech AAJA blog — their webmaster was live-tweeting the whole event!

*   *   *

Once upon a time Mr. Mayo, a smart businessman who headed a three-generation-old European company producing deep-frozen French Fries and other iced delicacies, decided that the time was ripe to head for China.

So by the middle of the 1^st decade of the 21^st century his entrepreneurial spirit brought him to the “mysterious” Far East.

His findings were astonishing to say the least: He discovered that the largest multinational fast food restaurants had set up shop far ahead of him, that some of those chains had hundreds of outlets spread all over the country, that the young Chinese loved fries almost as much as rice. And that meant that his deep-frozen fries should certainly be in demand.

He temporarily hired a Mr. Yang, a thirty-something-year-old, as his consultant to further discover the potential of his fries in the Middle Kingdom. Quickly the wildest estimates hit the Excel sheet, far exceeding the conservative forecasts Mr. Mayo could have dreamed up, and it soon became fact that selling to China was a must. His company would quickly show a return to the family shareholders far surpassing the 3-5% growth they saw in their customary markets.

Unfortunately the lack of enough cold storage, and therefore the prohibitive cost of small shipments, “taxing” import procedures and messy logistics to move cold containers around the country, quickly made him realize that to reach the end users he had to build a production facility in China.

It was decided to build a brand-new factory at a cost of 2.5 million Euros. It would be headed by Mr. Yang, whom Mr. Mayo had come to trust like family. Shandong was chosen as the perfect location. This made sense because it looked like potato paradise: Different varieties were available within a 400km radius. Farmers were eager to sell and at very interesting prices.

Sadly many of the potatoes that reached the production site turned starchy and were no longer the quality that would provide a superior French fry to which his European customers had become accustomed.

So Mr. Yang proposed to start importing European potatoes instead, which could be further processed into a likeable fry.

Mr. Mayo had got accustomed to Mr. Yang’s business acumen and decided on the spot that this should be the way to go.

Potatoes were imported in bulk and processed into the perfect fry.

The factory seemed to operate perfectly and Mr. Mayo would visit it at regular three-monthly intervals. Mr. Yang was always at the ready to pick him up at the airport, and on the way to the factory would explain to him how some of the imported potatoes would inexplicably rot and could not be used any longer in the production process.

Sales generated enough income to break even in the second year, as was planned. Mr. Mayo couldn’t have been happier. Until one day on his return to China, Mr. Yang met him at the airport and handed Mr. Mayo the keys of the car and… the factory. He no longer wanted to run the operations because he was in need of a well deserved break. All the protests and pleadings of Mr. Mayo were brushed aside and Mr. Yang left him there in the middle of the airport parking lot.

Shaken by the sudden departure of his most trusted staff member, he headed for the factory, wondering why Mr. Yang couldn’t have informed him earlier.

The truth however was going to hurt him more than he could ever imagine.

At the factory entrance, the place looked desolate: no guards at the gate, no trucks on the parking lot, no familiar smell of cooking oil in the air. It even seemed that the cold storage area seemed to be missing… Wrenching himself through the half-opened gateway, he walked into the offices… Desks, computers, cabinets… all had gone.

Rushing to the production site, he slid open the main door, only to hear the sound echo off the walls of the huge workshop several times over.

All the equipment had evaporated. Outside there were only traces on the ground where the huge cold storage units once had been.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. Since he had never driven himself to the site he quickly hoped that this would be the wrong address, the wrong location in the industrial park. Sadly enough he was at the correct co-ordinates. Anxiously calling Mr. Yang’s phone number was of no use.  That phone number would remain switched off forever. The same happened to the phone numbers of other staff he had kept in his mobile’s memory.

A quick call home was kind of useless too. Now everyone over there was in a panic as well. A walk into the police station (public security bureau) of the city nearby gained nothing. Nobody there spoke English and he couldn’t speak a word of Chinese. Frustrated, he left to sob on his own and inexplicably flew back to Europe only to return a month later, together with his son. And this on the advice of his family lawyer.

Needless to say, nothing had changed.

With a translator they went to the police station. The officer in charge requested proof of company ownership, which they couldn’t show because all paperwork had disappeared with the equipment. When the officer asked for proof of theft from the Public Security Bureau, nothing could be shown except an empty factory, but only if the officer would be willing to go with them. The answer to when exactly this vicious act had taken place also got no clear reply. Finally asking who, in Mr. Mayo’s opinion, was behind the pilfering on the factory floor, Mr. Mayo exploded “Mr. Yang, Mr. Yang!”

At this the officer requested Mr. Yang’s address, copy of ID card and phone number, only for both father and son to reply with a sigh and a desperate look up into the air.

This was the end of the road for the officer. He had lost patience with these crazy foreigners who could not give any answer with clear proof or certitude.

A trip to the bank ended in further disappointment. A kind bank employee informed them that the company’s bank accounts were empty.

Further investigation revealed that the so-called “rotten” potatoes actually were not that rotten at all but ended up in production and were sold off the company records.

We leave it up to your imagination what Mr. Yang is doing now.

What’s the moral of this story?

Get your act together from the very beginning:

• Implement the same internal procedures in China as those at your HQ.
• Make copies of ID cards and counter-check to see they are not fake.
• Check if the home addresses of your senior staff match what is mentioned on their CV/ contracts.
• Make sure you have copies of all vital documents of your Chinese entity.
• Handle the company stamps yourself or, if not possible, make sure you have an independent third party to handle those (e.g. an accounting or law firm that YOU appoint).
• Better still, have at least one staff from HQ permanently based in your Chinese entity. It might cost more, but at least this decision will not chop a number of years off your life.
• When operating in China, learn to think out of the box and try to keep your biased cultural heritage at bay.
• Remember that Chinese staff are not worse than any other employees around the world, but give someone an open invitation to become creative and it will be taken.
• Don’t feel sorry if you’ve been cheated; probably the opportunity was created by you.
• Enjoy China business. You’ll be surprised how rewarding it can be as long as you play it smart, not like a dumb new kid on the block.

Freedom Behind Bars – John Hung

“Human beings created justice, as well as injustice,” he said.

A man who has been treated unfairly in this unjust place can only seek legal recourse, hoping that justice will prevail and that he would eventually regain his good name. Unfortunately, the court may not be as just as he would hope. The layer-by-layer conviction and dismissals made by the Court of First Instance, Court of Appeal and Court of Final Appeal signify the uncertainty and unpredictability of the judgment. It is dangerous to only look for justice in law or accept it as the last resort in the judgment of morality. We cannot simply measure ourselves and others by these provisions. “Where will we find true final judgment then? Perhaps it is the Almighty.”

He was a high flyer in the business world. He had been working for Wheelock & Co. and Wharf Holdings for over thirty years and everyone knew him as the group’s “Financial Strategist”. He was engaged in numerous roles in public service and had been the chairman of the Sports Development Board for seven years. He was also awarded the Silver Bauhinia Star. Although his life looked like paradise, his perfect aristocratic privilege could not stay with him forever. In 2009, he was sentenced to sixteen months in jail for corruption. One year after his release, he published the autobiography he wrote in prison: “Master of None”. He did not use his book to reverse the verdict, nor did he complain. “I don’t want to talk about the past, I have a clear conscience.”

He was a “taipan”, a supreme leader, and also a prisoner. He is — John Hung.

Text by Bai Lan, Photo by Lau Chun To

The days when social status was lost

“I don’t want people to forget that I was a prisoner. I was there, it is true and I can’t change that.”

On 25th June 2009, John Hung was sentenced to sixteen months in prison on corruption charges and was immediately taken into custody. He thought that he could escape unpunished; however, he was found guilty. After the verdict was read, he was handcuffed in the blink of an eye. His lawyers whispered to him that he should appeal. He looked at his wife, but there was not enough time to talk. His status as a commercially successful and influential man could not protect him any more. He was left in shock at the rapidity of the process as he got into the prison van. His head was still in a cloud until the van arrived in front of Stanley Prison’s gate. When he entered, the prison officers asked him to remove his clothes.

John was born into the privileged class. His grandfather was the wealthy Sir Robert Kotewall. He graduated from the Diocesan Boys’ School and Hong Kong University. Thereafter, he became well known in both the political and the business world. His reputation and success, constructed over decades, were taken away in one day. “I lost all pride in prison. They asked me to take off my clothes, I wasn’t used to it. It was a little bit debasing.”

John was over six feet tall but had to stay in a small prison cell no larger than six square metres. He spent his first night lying on the plank bed, staring at the ceiling while thinking about the next sixteen months.

He sweated like a pig during the sweltering summer and had to shower in freezing water during the winter. He finally lost over seventeen kilograms. Nevertheless, physical exhaustion was far less harsh than the mental suffering, “I didn’t care about myself, but was concerned about my wife and children. Hong Kong is so small, who doesn’t know me? How would my former acquaintances treat my wife? Would they give her a bad name?” His family could only visit him twice a month, and each visit was limited to thirty minutes. He understood his prison life was hard, but felt it was even harder for his wife to face the judgmental society around her.

He started writing in the third month. Since he was isolated from the outside world, writing about his life was the only thing he could do. He recreated himself with his pen, transcribing each decade of his life. He said his mind was quicker than his handwriting and it took only four months to finish his book. His entire life was written on those pages, word by word. He used to be a forward-looking person, but this time, he took a look back at the written account of his life and thought, “A seventy-year-old man must have made many mistakes, so even if I turn ninety I should continue to learn, and not complain.”

His friends told him that if he did not broadcast or mention his time in jail, people would someday forget that he was a prisoner. John, however, prefers to take the responsibility: “I define clearly what actually happened. I control my own destiny and would not allow it to be controlled by others.” He might as well be honest to the public instead of hiding the truth: “I was in jail and I admit it. There is no reason to bury my head in the sand. I was there, I got through it and it became my experience, good and bad. Other people may have prejudice against me. I am restricted from doing many things because of this, but my head is clearer than before. In prison, I had sixteen months to think quietly and realized what I did right and what I did wrong.”

The possibility of freedom

Other prisoners were mostly criminals who committed theft, arson and such like. They were mostly people without position or fame. For them, being released from prison simply meant recovering their freedom. On the other hand, John thought his release meant jumping to another bigger and perhaps more stressful kind of “prison”. He worried, “because of my social status, I have to face huge pressure. How would society treat me? How could I re-adapt to society?” He was anxious about leaving, even felt apprehension. After staying at Stanley Prison for several months, his mood changed and he started feeling more tranquil. “That place is like a community. Nobody laughs at you or looks down on you, as if you have to hide. It was a terrible place to be in, but strangely I felt protected.” Unexpectedly, that place was so carefree and peaceful.

You can even be free in prison because of its isolation and emptiness. Comparatively, the people living in society may feel totally shackled by pressure. The only difference between prisoners and ordinary people could be the prison uniform. “There, my thinking process was free, without being hindered by any social pressure. My greatest source of stress used to be the balance between work and my family. But there, your wife won’t give you pressure, neither would your boss nor society.” After all, the prison is a cage to keep people in a tidy room. It places restrictions on your life, status and relationships. But freedom of thought was the most important thing for him: “you can imprison me, but you can’t take away my freedom.”

When he had nothing else to do…

Writing became his escape which set him free from prison and time. It allowed him to face his past squarely. It permitted him to honestly bring back to life what had taken place in his history.

The environment affects every human life. No matter if you are an important political or business leader or a common person from the lower middle class, you cannot stop the influences of economic, political and geographical changes. He was a “taipan” in the past, but a changing environment could still pull him down from the top. He wanted to reach great heights and became successful. He sought status and wealth: “These values are dictated by society. But even if you have thirty houses, can you live in all of them? What is an ownership? It is something created by human beings and societies.”

He used to be a competitive person. Victory was everything to him and he did his best in everything. He was working day and night without sharing enough time with his family nor having time for himself. “When you are a senior executive, you are driven by adrenaline. It is like an obsession; a disease.” Prison gave him space and time for soul-searching. He realized that he had enough: “If I had never been in jail, I’m not sure if I would have these feelings, but since I was there, I clearly know what went wrong and what was too much. I then asked myself if it was worth it.” It was too much of a good thing.

He was/is still young

Youthfulness is not determined by one’s age, but by one’s mentality.

“I understand the frustrations of young people and what hurts them. When I was a manager, I gave them time and treated them fairly.” He recalls that when he was a young intern, he received advantageous training and kept learning during the first two years. He now bemoans that employers are nowadays expecting too much knowledge and experience from young people. “How can they have experience when they don’t even have a job?” He said this is similar to the regulations of some golf clubs where members must have handicaps in order to play on the golf course, but if the person has never played golf, how can he get a handicap?”

“In Hong Kong, we need to help different kinds of people: the elderly, the sick and people with disabilities, etc. I say we should help the youth too. It’s difficult enough for the fresh graduates to look for a job, and when they get one after several months of searching, they still cannot live on their income.” A set lunch costs a minimum of 40 dollars, transportation costs continue to rise, our basic needs are more expensive and property prices have reached historical highs. Nevertheless, salaries have not kept up with price increases and instead have been very lean due to the competitiveness in the market and the lack of experience. A comfortable life and ambitious dreams have become extravagant hopes.

Chief Executive Donald Tsang stated that the deepest feelings of resentment were from the young people. “If you said the young people were resentful, do something for them!” How can people not resist if you throw them into despair?

His Hong Kong

Four generations of his family have lived in Hong Kong. He is of mixed race but very much a ‘Hongkonger’. He loves Hong Kong, but some things have changed. After the handover, we have enjoyed robust economic growth. However, the political system, social welfare, culture and other aspects have not kept pace with economic development.

“Nowadays, big businessmen from all over the world continue to walk the streets of Central in Hong Kong, the international financial centre of so-called “Asia’s World City”. However, there are still crippled beggars in the middle of Pedder Street. Why can’t we take them off the streets and provide shelter for the poor? Who can do it? It must be the Government!”

He recalls that when he was small, Pedder Street was empty and his father could park his car unattended in the middle of the street. In today’s Pedder Street, cars are running into each other and people are pressed together like sardines. Everything is happening here, but it seems that no one wants to stop.

Except for him; he has stopped now – clear-headed.

(Text translated from Chinese)

From the South China Morning Post Lai See column:

A flyer came across our desk yesterday inviting us to a booksigning event featuring John Hung’s book Master of None, How a Hong Kong High- Flyer Overcame the Devastating Experience of Imprisonment.

Hung, it will be recalled, not so long ago stepped out of Stanley Prison after a 16-month sojourn for “assisting” someone to attain membership in the hallowed portals of the Hong Kong Jockey Club, apparently for a fee. The 73-year-old former chairman of Wheelock Marden has made a virtue out of necessity and used his enforced leisure time to produce an autobiography. As the publisher’s blurb says, “Does a man need a stint in jail to complete his life experiences? … The story tracks the richness of his mixed-race heritage and upbringing, his steady rise and precipitous fall from the pinnacles of corporate Hong Kong to the life-destroying court case and heartbreaking incarceration.”

One of our more cynical readers has responded that it was a pity this did not appear a month ago and we would then have had the perfect answer to the age-old question, “What do you get for Christmas for the man who had everything?” Answer, a stint in Stanley Prison.

For families, there is nothing worse than trekking out to a particular place for a day out, bringing all the paraphernalia required for travelling with children, not to mention the children themselves, only to find the opening times, details or directions you were given were wrong or incomplete.

That’s the view of Cindy Miller Stephens, an expat mother-of-three who spent a number of years meticulously documenting information on parks, museums, beaches, markets, hikes/walks and other venues and activities throughout Hong Kong. She always enjoyed referring friends and business acquaintances to unusual or far-flung outings to enjoy with their children, and was eventually encouraged to compile all of her information into a book. The result was Hong Kong for Kids: A Parent’s Guide. Now released in its second edition, the comprehensive guidebook is expanded and fully revised for 2011.

Attention to detail is what makes this book so valuable. It covers everything from how old the children should be to visit each venue, where the nearest kid-friendly food can be found and even whether or not a baby-changing table can be found nearby!

“Hong Kong can be a very difficult place to navigate, especially with children in tow. However, once someone has shown you the way, it becomes very clear,” Cindy says. “Hong Kong for Kids attempts to be a friendly ‘door opener’ for resident families and visitors.

“Hong Kong is a wonderful, challenging and fantastic place to explore for families with children. The biggest obstacles between families and a great time out will be eliminated by this book – namely, how to identify and then locate a fun-filled outing.”

Each chapter is a self-contained resource which includes: addresses, websites, phone numbers, directions in Chinese for taxi drivers, detailed descriptions of the venue, age ranges, every kind of available public transportation – MTR, bus, tram, ferry, taxi, walking – detailed driving directions, contact details for educators, nearby child-friendly restaurants, special programs and tours and things you need to know that are only word-of-mouth.

For people who drive in Hong Kong, the book is a remarkable resource, giving explicit directions that cannot be found anywhere on the internet or on road maps. Even where to park and when not to bring a car are covered.

The author and her children have visited every destination in this book at least once, often with other parents and their children as well. The venues selected for inclusion are only those that were found to be worthy of a visit. Every site has been family-tested to eliminate the possibility of hauling children around Hong Kong only to be disappointed once they arrive. The book is not about rating venues, it is about identifying the best things that are currently here to be explored.

“Hong Kong has changed so much in the last few years,” Cindy says. “It never used to be known as a child-friendly city but all that has changed. The breadth and depth of things to do in Hong Kong with children has sparked the expansion of this book to include 30% more destinations as well as a complete overhaul of the entries that were included in the first edition.

“For the first edition of Hong Kong for Kids, there was a need to include an icon which depicted whether or not the venue had seated toilets or squat toilets, which can be very difficult for kids to use. This icon has been eliminated from the new edition, as 99% of the locations listed now have sit-down toilets! Hallelujah! This is just one indicator of how far Hong Kong has come in a short time in terms of its new-found family friendliness.”

The author’s family has spent the last 10 years discovering Hong Kong and they feel that few cities offer a more exciting or diverse list of options for families than this city. But it’s not only parents who have found the thorough details and directions useful.

“Many people have purchased this book and used it to help their family and friends who are visiting Hong Kong to get around and find great spots to experience, whether or not they have children,” Cindy says. “In fact, the title might have been: Hong Kong for Kids and Grandparents and Out of Town Visitors and Residents!”

About the author: Cindy Miller Stephens is an American who has lived in Hong Kong for 15 years. As a child she was an expat living in France and travelled the globe extensively with her parents, visiting Hong Kong for the first time in 1977. Cindy writes about Hong Kong while raising her three daughters ages 6, 10 and 13. She lives in Hong Kong.

Book details

Title: Hong Kong for Kids: A Parent’s Guide

ISBN: 978-988-19003-2-6

Format: Paperback, 140mm x 216mm, 424 pages, with 38 colour maps

Published: November 2011

Cover price: HK$148 / US$18.95

Click the images to see at larger size!

People often express amazement that English-language publishers can survive in Hong Kong. I share their surprise. Hong Kong is a small place, and the mother tongue of 98% of its population is Chinese. Nevertheless, Hong Kong can be a reliable market for English books if you publish what people want.

Read the full piece, and similar items from other regional publishers, at Cha.

Come and meet Kathryn on the 19th November at Bookazine in Central, Hong Kong! Click the invite to see at larger size. Drinks and snacks will be served. Free scary tattoos for every attendee, and scary sweets from Sim’s sweetshop!

And read an interview with Kathryn (and her mum) in the SCMP’s Family Post.

When John T. Hung was writing his book “Master of None” from inside Stanley Prison, apart from the experience of imprisonment, he also recounted the many events and people that have affected his life. The most dramatic changes in Hong Kong took place from 1970 to the present, which coincided with the period of his active career. As a fourth-generation Eurasian resident of Hong Kong, he poses questions about whether we may have lost sight of who we are.

Listen to John Hung talk about his life and his new book at the Foreign Correspondents’ Club in Central, Hong Kong on Thursday Oct 20th. All details here.

Author Cecilie Gamst Berg has now made a movie to explain what you’ll learn by reading the book!

The latest one can be seen online if you click here. And you can sign up at this link. Thanks for letting us keep you informed!

Click image to see invite at full size. Buy book to find out the meaning of “the slippery are very crafty”!

A triad-controlled nightclub, of course, is not a clever place to work if you’re addicted to a drug with a tendency to induce horrifying paranoia. A lot of bad stuff is going to happen and it’s very easy for an Ice-addled mind to imagine that even worse stuff is also going on. This is at the heart of Thrall’s nightmare and it’s a narrative device that makes Eating Smoke work so well.

…  Before his downward spiral begins, there’s a lot of enthusiastic reminiscing about long, intoxicated nights in Wan Chai nightspots, both as doorman and patron. Thrall is refreshingly unapologetic about the main reason for his drug addiction: before the madness took hold, he really enjoyed taking drugs. He’s an engaging narrator whose charm and essential decency are first twisted and then eventually dissolved by his addiction.

Click the image to see at full (readable) size.

Todd Crowell’s guidebook Explore Macau describes eight routes around the urban peninsula and its outlying islands, sufficient to explore and understand this fascinating old city and its unique blend of European and Asian architecture, cuisine and cultures. Here we excerpt one of Todd’s guided walks. Click the map to see at larger size.

Walk No. 3: From Lilau Square to Barra Point

Route: Down Rua George Chinnery to Lilau Square, continuing on down Calçada da Barra to the A-Ma Temple, then around Barra Point to Avenida da Praia Grande.

Chief Points of Interest: Lilau Square, Mandarin House, Moorish Barracks, A-Ma Temple, Macau Maritime Museum, Penha Hill, Santa Sancha Palace and the former Bela Vista Hotel.

The name Rua George Chinnery (1) just behind St. Lawrence’s Church enshrines the memory of the 19th-century British artist who lived near here and whose ink drawings and paintings form the main impressions of Macau as it must have looked more than 100 years ago. The artist actually rented rooms (now gone) on the neighboring Rua Ignacio Baptista, which was close to some of his favorite subjects: St. Lawrence’s Church and the Chapel of St. Joseph Seminary. Of course to see Chinnery’s most famous scenery one needs to go down to the Praia Grande although you will have to use your imagination to screen out the reclamation. To plunge into this neighborhood is a little like stepping back into old Macau, a town of narrow streets, hidden nooks and patios and the sounds of hawkers.

Stroll down this short street to the end and turn left. On one side is the Patio da Ilusao, or Illusion Courtyard, hidden behind a typical Portuguese gateway. Cut through Rua Alleluia to Lilau Square (2), the quiet heart of the old Macanese community, built around a fountain. This neighborhood shows the results of considerable attention by the cultural affairs department. The late 19th-century residences on all sides of the small square have been restored in bright pinks, greens and yellows and decorated with black gas lanterns. It is worth pausing for a coffee or cold drink from a kiosk in the square under the shade of a huge banyan tree. The fountain that originally stood in the square was dismantled in the 1940s. The government has reconstructed a replacement water fountain in one end of the square, a large square granite block, which seems incongruously modern in the setting. An old folk poem recalls:

Who drinks the waters of Lilau
Will never forget Macau
He either marries here in Macau
Or else returns to Macau

Just behind the square, down Travessa Antonio Silva, is a building which once represented the height of Chinese residential architecture in Macau. It is based on the design of the home of a senior official of Imperial China, hence the name Mandarin House (3). The sprawling complex with nine apartments was built in 1881 by Zheng Guan Ying (1842-1922), a notable official and writer (Sun Yat-sen is said to have admired his critique of bureaucratic decay, The Jeopardy of Civilization, written in the Mandarin House). It has been all but abandoned since a fire in 1994, leaving only a few stray cats as permanent residents. Every time I have visited the house in the past, it has been derelict, technically private property, although there was never anybody to stop me from walking in and wandering around. Evidently the details of ownership have been resolved in order to allow the Macau government to take over the property and begin an extensive renovation program aimed at restoring the house to its original condition. This should make it one of the most splendid cultural artifacts in the enclave.

Continue along Calçada da Barra and you will soon come to the Moorish Barracks (4), a beautiful public building which, with its Arabian arches, shows the influences of the Indian subcontinent. The ‘Moors’ were actually Indians from Goa who were brought to Macau to augment the local police and defense forces. It was for these soldiers that the Moorish Barracks were built in 1874. It is now the headquarters for the marine police and is not open to the public; but stroll along the beautiful veranda and imagine what it must have been like to look out over the Inner Harbour before the view was obscured by buildings.

A few more meters’ walk brings you to the waterfront. On the left, along Avenida Almirante Sergio, are a row of popular Portuguese restaurants. The first one, A Lorcha (5), is one of Macau’s better “new wave” Portuguese restaurants with both excellent food and an impressive wine list. A block or so north one finds O Litoral and Porto Interior Restaurants, both hidden behind fake Macanese façades and both enjoying their own clientele.

MACAU’S LANDFALL
Retrace your steps to the Largo do Pagode da Barra, a pleasant plaza fronted by an attractive green Macanese mansion that used to house the Maritime Museum now located across the street, and the A-Ma Temple (6), easily the most famous and picturesque Chinese temple in Macau. The temple was built in 1605, several decades after the Portuguese settled on the peninsula. There must have been some sort of shrine to A-Ma here before then, since it is well established that the temple existed before the Portuguese arrived and that it gave its name to Macau. The name, or a version of it, seems to have been current when the temple was built. It was extensively renovated in 1828, giving it the general appearance that it has today, indeed as it was depicted by all of the famous 19th-century artists of Macau, such as Chinnery and Auguste Bourget. The temple complex consists of four pavilions. The first three are dedicated to Tin Hau, another name for A-Ma, who is the patroness of seafarers and popular with fishermen all along the South China coast. (Approximately 20 other temples to A-Ma exist in Macau, not the least being the imposing statue recently erected on Coloane Island). The fourth and highest pavilion is dedicated to Kun Iam, the goddess of mercy. Numerous smaller side altars are for lesser Buddhist and Taoist deities.

The site is built on the side of a hill, and you ascend by winding paths and steps, relieved at intervals by small temples, shrines and inscriptions and shaded by bamboo groves and banyan trees. Enter by way of a short flight of concrete steps and through a ceremonial gate. In the courtyard is a large rock on which a Chinese junk has been carved in bas-relief. This is meant to represent the ship which, tradition holds, brought the goddess A-Ma to this place. There are various legends. The most common holds that a fleet of junks was dispatched from Fujian province with a young woman on board. A storm arose and sank all of the ships save the one with the maiden. She took the tiller and brought the ship safely to Macau. There she went ashore and disappeared. The other passengers found only a statue of the goddess. On the junk is a flag with four Chinese characters on it; they translate as “crossing the river safely.” Progressing up the hill, you pass through an oval “moon gate” painted bright red with nine dragons on the frieze. Behind is an inscription that reads, in Chinese, “the path of enlightenment.” Continue upwards past the third and perhaps shabbiest of the three temples to Tin Hau, navigating between large boulders that make the temple grounds look a little like the Camões Grotto, to the fourth and last temple dedicated to Kun Iam, the goddess of mercy. Off to the right is a curious inscription on a boulder in two red Chinese characters said to be a Taoist phrase effective against misfortune.

Across from the A-Ma Temple is the Macau Maritime Museum (7) (open 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. daily except Tuesday, admission 10 patacas). The museum is attractive and informative, although it depends heavily on ship models and table displays rather than historical or genuine artifacts. Long planned, some of the original exhibits destined for a future museum were destroyed when the U.S. Navy bombed the Portuguese Navy Maritime Aviation Hangar on Taipa in 1945 by mistake. The museum proper comprises three levels. The first depicts, with various models of Chinese fishing junks and examples of fishing techniques, the life and work of fishermen along the South China coast. A model of an oyster field shows growth over five years. Level 2 focuses on the great voyages of discovery by Chinese and Portuguese explorers. A model of a Japanese warrior from Tanegashima, the island off the coast of Kyushu where, in 1543, the Portuguese set up Europe’s first trading post in Japan, underscores the importance of the Japanese connection with early Macau. Level 3 explores maritime transportation through various ages: a mock up of a ship’s bridge, more models of modern passenger ferries from steamships to the jetfoils, and replicated remains of a Song dynasty Fujian junk. A spacious café with a white tented roof occupies a tiled outdoors area between the museum and the wharf. The museum also operates two junks which make 30-minute tours of the Inner and Outer Harbours (daily except Tuesday, fare 10 patacas).

From the Maritime Museum continue walking along Rua de São Tiago da Barra to the tip of Macau’s peninsula. There one comes to the Barra Fort (8), constructed in 1629 and designed to defend the entrance to the Inner Harbour. It was at one time an elaborate complex supporting a garrison of about 60 soldiers, their stores, cannon and ammunition. In 1740 a chapel was built in the fort dedicated to St. James (S. Tiago). The cannons were sold off to earn money to help care for refugees during World War II. In 1976 the remaining carcass of the old fort was converted into a charming inn, the Pousada de S. Tiago (9). Cleverly incorporating the ruins of the fortress, the chapel, the cistern (now an ornamental fountain), and ancient trees are melded into the design. The boutique hotel has only twelve guest rooms, each furnished with antique Portuguese furniture.

Continue along the periphery road, which now becomes Avenida da Republica. This small stretch from the tip of the peninsula to the old Bela Vista Hotel still has something of the feel of the old Praia Grande waterfront as it existed before the enormous reclamation project created the Nam Van Lakes. There are trees, walkways and benches, although the vista across the Sai Van Lake is not very interesting these days. Close to the tip is a statue of Henri Dunant (10), the Swiss founder of the Red Cross. It was erected in 1997 to honor the 70th anniversary of the founding of the Macau Red Cross, whose headquarters is located in a fine complex across the street. A little further along brings one to a marvelous wedding cake of a building, in bright pink with white trim. This stately residence, the Santa Sancha Palace (11), was built in the mid-19th century as a private residence and served as the home of Portuguese governors from 1937 to the handover of sovereignty in 1999. The first Chinese Chief Executive of the Macau SAR, the scion of a wealthy banking family, chose not to live in it, preferring his own mansion on Penha Hill.

DETOUR: From Lilau Square walk up Rua Lilau, climb a flight of concrete stairs and follow the cobblestone streets to the peak of Penha Hill. This is one of the two main promontories of Macau, the other being Guia Hill. Here the Portuguese erected another small fortress which was once connected by a wall to the Dom Parto fortress on the waterfront near the former Bela Vista Hotel. In 1622 Our Lady of Penha Chapel (12) was also built, and throughout most of Macau’s history, it also had a small hermitage for monks. There was nothing much else, the peak being isolated and difficult to reach. The fort was demolished in the late 19th century, and in the 1930s the chapel was totally rebuilt in the form it is today and a small bishop’s residence was attached to it. Before the 20th century Macau’s bishops had resided at St. Paul’s or with churches belonging to their orders. In the 1970s a new residence was built next to the Cathedral, so Penha was used as a bishop’s residence for only 30-odd years. It is now part of the University of Macau.

Penha Hill provides excellent views looking out over the city and harbor, but it is a kind of dead place, the quiet disturbed only by the arrival of a tour bus chugging up the hill and disgorging a flock of Chinese tourists. In contrast with the city’s other showcase churches, all in neo-classical or baroque style, the chapel looks faintly Gothic. It is stone gray in color, with a tall steeple on one side and an iron compass on the top. The inside is unremarkable save for the lovely oval stained-glass window over the altar depicting the Madonna and Child. From Penha walk back down Estrada de D. Joao Paulino to the pink and white gates of the Santa Sancha Palace.

The palace commands a prominent position in Macau’s best residential area. The contour of the land has been unchanged since it was built, so that the building is easily visible from various parts of the city. The two-story building is very pleasing to the eye, having a perfectly symmetrical façade crowned by a curved pediment which used to boast the Portuguese coat of arms, and now the seal of the People’s Republic of China. The building is made out of plastered brick in the Pombaline style similar to the Government Palace further down the Praia (which once belonged to the same owner.) Surrounding the whole is a granite wall with Western-style parapets decorated with Chinese ceramics. At the end of the grounds is a circular belvedere with a large shade tree, which must have been a wonderful place to sit on a cool summer’s night looking out at the Pearl River and Taipa Island. It was built in typical Mediterranean style with large flowerpots standing on the balustrades. The interior is furnished with Chinese and Portuguese furniture. Down on the Praia is an excellent restaurant, Henri’s Galley (13). This unpretentious establishment has a nautical flavor – the walls are adorned with a ship’s wheel and prints of old sailing ships, oars and signaling flags, and it has a few outdoor tables. The house specialties, African chicken and spicy prawns, are excellent.

The top Portuguese in Macau moved out of Santa Sancha and into the legendary Bela Vista Hotel (14), disappointing hundreds of aficionados of what may have been Macau’s most beloved hotel. It was built in the 1870s on the ruins of the Dom Parto Fort, the oldest in Macau, whose foundations are still visible from the road. It began life as the Boa Vista Hotel in 1899, aptly named for its incomparable view over the Praia Grande Bay and Pearl River but in the succeeding 100 years underwent several permutations, becoming a secondary school (renowned Portuguese poet Camilo Pessanha once taught there) and a billet for Hong Kong civil service cadets. It reverted to being a hotel in 1967; not the best of times, considering the dearth of visitors because of the violence in the aftermath of the Cultural Revolution. Newly known as the Bela Vista, it began rebuilding its reputation for gracious, colonial-style hospitality, each of the 23 rooms boasting high ceilings, huge bathtubs and a veranda, although the occasional peeling paint gave it a slightly seedy look. In 1990 the Mandarin Oriental hotel group undertook an expensive restoration, reducing the two dozen rooms to only eight luxury suites, earning the hotel rave reviews as one of the world’s leading boutique hotels. The last guest moved out on March 28, 1999, after the building was sold to the Portuguese government as the official residence of the consul general.

The rest of the walk provides little impression of the grandeur of the old Praia Grande. Most of this area has undergone massive reclamation in recent years. At one time a row of elegant government buildings and merchants’ mansions fronted the waterfront, but the only reminder of its glory days is the red-and-white Government Palace (15), which has served as the governor’s office since 1884. It was originally a private mansion, designed by the same architect who built the Santa Sancha. The Legislative Assembly moved to new quarters on the reclaimed island on the Nam Van Lake, and the building is now used mainly to welcome dignitaries when they arrive in Macau.

Todd Crowell’s guidebook is on sale for HK$98. More information: Explore Macau