China Revisited 2013 [34]

Hong Kong from The Peak

After our climb to The Big Buddha, the tofu pudding, the glass gondola return trip,  we rode the Hong Kong subway into the heart of the city for a visit to The Peak. The Peak is the highest vantage point in Hong Kong for viewing the central city.

Getting to The Peak, like getting to The Big Buddha, requires riding a rare form of transportation. In this case it was a 10 minute ride on a 125 year old tram railway that ascends 1300 feet in 10 minutes. Officially, the gradient is between 4 and 27 degrees, but from a passenger's perspective it seemed closer to 45 degrees, with most of the trip on the steepest part of that spectrum.

I was unable to manage a clear picture of the tram. For anyone who has made the voyage, the tram resembles the cog railway that climbs Mt. Washington in New Hampshire, which is only to say that the tram is an old style railroad car (two actually) with all the seats facing one direction -- uphill.

When the tram left the station and began to climb, we thought, momentarily, that we would be in big trouble if the mechanism that grips the cable failed.  Five or six minutes into the climb, we began to wish the old trains had head rests.  The ride was a serious and literal pain in the neck.

Nonetheless, the ride was clearly an improvement over the means of transportation employed prior to the building of the tram in 1888. In those days, anyone wishing to ride to the top was carried in a frail bamboo sedan chair, powered by what the brochure calls "two strong coolies."  As with their brothers who power rickshaws, apart from the benefit of the exercise for "staying in shape" it is hard to imagine an upside to a job like this. I found no information about the time required for a sedan chair hike to the vista.

At the top of the tram run, we disembarked at the base of The Peak Tower; at the top of this tower is the best view of Hong Kong anywhere.  Six or seven escalators and one more ticket booth later, we arrived on Sky Terrace 428.

We arrived a little early for the light show that begins at dusk.  The light show is not entertainment as, say, a laser show might be.  It is simply the point at which the tall new buildings around the harbor in the center of Hong Kong turn on their external lights.  This kind of light show is a fairly common feature of the modern Chinese cities we have visited so far. The lights in downtown Guangzhou, for example, are quite impressive.



As with the tram itself, I had trouble getting a clear picture of the lights themselves as they came to life on cue, which was 6:30 if I remember correctly.  My difficulty this time was not motion but the fog, the crowds (which became denser as 6:30 approached) and, of course, my on-going camera issues.

Street level Hong Kong was reasonably warm on this day in January, but the air at The Peak, given the departing sunlight and the steady breeze was rather cool.

After dinner in the tower we took the tram back down the steep hill.  To my surprise, we rode backward down the hill. Too bad, I thought it would have made for better viewing to see where we were going rather than where we had been.  Then it occurred to me that forward facing seats would have dumped us onto the floor as soon as we hit the slope.

We had a set up an elaborate system to be sure we awoke on time to catch the shuttle over to the airport for our flight back to the States. 

But the arrangements were unnecessary. At 5 a.m. the fire alarm jolted us out of bed.  We went to the door and looked out at the empty hallway. No smoke, no burning smell. 

Pretty soon Yujia appeared at our door to say, "Don't worry. Just stay in the room."

We did.  The alarm stopped.  We debated going back to bed and decided against it. The fire trucks that had gathered on the driveway below our window turned off their lights and rumbled away.

After welcoming us aboard for our trip home, the captain said we would have strong tail winds so we could expect a shorter trip to New York.  But when he turned off the seat belt sign, the largest Asian woman I have ever seen flopped her seat back into my lap, and I knew it was going to feel like a long trip regardless of how much time the tail winds saved us.

China Revisited 2013 [33]

The Big Buddha

Our last day in China was both a day of preparation for our flight back to New York and a day for sight-seeing in Hong Kong.  We said our good-byes to Edward's grandmother and the two maids, who had been so kind and hospitable to these high-maintenance guests, loaded our bags into the van, and headed for the border.

It doesn't take long. There are two border check points, one for China itself and one for Hong Kong. Paperwork needs to be in order, passports ready.  After the second border crossing the van shifted from driving on the right to driving on the left, British style, and we crossed the river onto the islands that comprise Hong Kong.

It was a hazy January day, but even with restricted vision, it is clear that the harbor is extremely busy with all manner of boat traffic.

Our first stop was the airport hotel where we would spend the night in preparation for our early morning flight. Near the airport is a mall with a train station, Tung Chung, where we went next to meet Yujia, who was to arrive from Guangzhou to be with us on our last day. It is always a treat to have Yujia on board.

The mall also houses the cable car terminal for the aerial tours out over the Tung Chung Bay, up and over the hills that form the Lantau North Country Park to Ngong Ping Village, which lies at the base of "The Big Buddha." We tend to think of Hong Kong simply as a congested city, which is true enough, but it also includes forested hills on multiple islands.

Edward booked a "crystal cabin" for us, which meant the cable car had a clear glass bottom. It was both a generous gesture, as these crystal cabins are more expensive, and a bit of teasing since both Donna and I fear heights. Edward took advantage of this knowledge to remind us at every opportunity just how high up we were.

The glass bottom did not concern Edward or Yujia, nor, apparently, Edward's mother. They moved about quite happily, while we held onto the plastic seats.

 

I offset the effect of riding without visible support just a bit by setting my backpack between my feet to hide the view straight down. It also helped us to look straight out rather than down through the glass floor. For me, at least, once the car was out and away from the platform, I was OK.

 The cable ride is 25 minutes.  About 18 minutes into the ride, after we have crossed the bay and the first set of hills, the Buddah comes into view in the distance.  Because it was hazy, as I said earlier, the statue at first was mostly a dark, ghostly presence in the distance.

As one would expect of a Buddha, it just sits placidly atop the hill at some distance from the cable route.  We disembarked at Ngong Ping Village, which is a new commercial enterprise constructed as a tourist destination. I was surprised to learn that the Big Buddha itself is of recent construction; it was finished in 1996. There is a mix of commercial and religious forces at work here that I cannot entirely disentangle; but my best explanation is that after years of suppressing religious practices, the Chinese authorities have begun to encourage the ancient forms due to their commercial value. They are, in fact, beneficial to the local economy.  I realize as I make this observation that Hong Kong was under British control during the construction of the Buddha and the village. That fact does not dissuade me; I think my explanation is likely close to the truth.

There is a Buddhist monastery in the village to serve the needs of worshipers who come to the temples that are also part of the complex.

We had lunch in the village, but not at Zen Noodles, which had been my suggestion. As near as I can tell we ate at Ngong Ping Garden Restaurant.  I have eliminated most of the other possibilities -- Starbucks, Subway, Zen Tiawanese Bistro, da dolce Gelato Italiano -- you get the idea.

The village itself is basically one street of stores that head through a set of gates toward the Po Lin Monastery and the hill dominated by the Big Buddha. The Monastery is separated a distance from the shopping district by a stone-paved pathway lined with figures of historic generals whose deeds in battle have legendary status. The shrines in front of the monastery were filled with people burning incense.  Smoke and ashes were everywhere.

The Monastery itself is beautifully kept. Clearly the commercial prosperity of the new village has allowed the Monastery itself to prosper and, in turn, to serve as an colorful display of ancient art and architecture. The detail in these traditional styles is quite astonishing.  I am personally attracted to the little animals that one finds along the roof ridges, which were reminiscent for me of similar traditional styles in Korea.

 








After we had looked at the Monastery, we climbed the stairway to get a closer look at the Big Buddha -- 15 separate sets of 14 steps, or, 210 steps altogether. There are a few more steps at the top if one wants to pay a separate admission to get up close and personal with the Buddha itself, but we all thought 210 steps was plenty.

My impression was that few people, maybe just the seriously devout, actually paid the separate admission. Most settled for the 210 steps.  There was actually quite a bit to see from that vantage point. In the little rooms beneath Buddha's platform was a set of large room that had information about Buddhism, photographs and diagrams about the construction of the Big Buddha itself, and items for sale to help you remember your trip.

 At the bottom of the 210 steps again we stopped for a snack of tofu pudding in an eating hut that also reminded me of Korea -- plastic hung walls, outdoor cooking.  The tofu pudding was good although I don't have any memory of the exact taste.

Then, having seen the Big Buddha, we checked to see where in the world we were -- a mere 13,000 km from New York -- before we boarded our crystal cabin for the ride back to Tung Chung, Hong Kong.