Hong Kong out my window is dreary this morning. Grey and humid and quiet. Not so last night when it was truly alive with people everywhere and buskers filling the small gaps between the sounds of traffic and the buzz of humans.
I am staying in Causeway Bay and the entrance to my building is in Tang Lung Lane which is a little alley filled with restaurants and run down buildings. It is literally a couple of hundred paces from the ultra contemporary World Square. From what I have seen so far, Hong Kong is an extraordinary mix of the old and the new. From my balcony I can see the roof tops of nearby residences that look like slums framed by shiny glass highrises with chichi mid air patios and manicured floating gardens.
My own little apartment is in a similar such block although once you come through the security gate on the street and then my security grill and bolted door - it is a little haven. One thing I find quite unsettling is that the only channel I can get with clarity on the TV is a loop of security video of the foyer and lift. I am told, however, that Hong Kong is a safe place to be and I chose to believe it.
As I was waiting for the lift last night I noticed something fluttering on the clothes line outside the window of the apartment on the floor above. On closer inspection I realized it was a long piece of fine washi paper with calligraphy on it. I wish I’d taken a photo but I will check today to see if there’s more.