The Temple on Pok Fu Lam

April 2: Once a “barren island,” Hong Kong is amazingly green.

Years of slash and burn farming had depleted the area’s mountain forests and topsoil. Erosion took a heavy toll, and for the second half of the 20th century, the city battled to preserve deteriorating hills through myriad methods: cement buttressing, plaster casts, giant walls, etc. Meanwhile, immigrants flooded the city's crowded slopes, literally by the millions. A tide of human developments coupled with rainy climate accelerated the crumbling of the mountainside.

After winning the first Opium War in 1842, British Prime Minister Lord Palmerston lamented his prize, then a fishing village. Britain had "obtained a barren island with hardly a house upon it,” he complained to his generals.

Today, the Special Administrative Region (once again part of China) boasts a population of roughly seven billion with a booming economy.

The city is urban beyond urban. Yet, Hong Kong also boasts a huge area of protected natural land. Country parks sprawl over 40 percent of Hong Kong’s 1,092 sq. kilometers. Although, many of the parks lie in less-developed New Territories (along the Guangdong Province border).

Joyce takes me with her to the University of Hong Kong for a breakfast of congee (rice porridge). She warns me of the danger of getting lost on a nearby country park trail. She worries then leads me to the base of the Lung Fu Shan country park. She goes to class. I go up the mountain.



On the path, I pass a construction crew. They haul a fallen tree from the path. A moment later, a metal tin hangs from a tree branch, swaying in the breeze, apparently part of a shrine erected beside the trail. A table with stool and jars of offerings appear to be an altar.

I pass earth coated in plaster. PVC pipes provide drainage, while larger outlets allow vegetation to grow and anchor the slope via root system.



I pass a red Buddha relief protruding from the plaster at the base of Lung Fu Shan. The peak’s summit has a plastic blue tai chi wheel and a pagoda with two girls from HKU chatting in Cantonese. I continue on, following signs that point to “Peak.” Thanks to my lack of planning, I don’t realize this path takes me to Victoria Peak, the famous lookout point for Victoria Harbor. I pass another plaster support; it displays a dragon fighting a phoenix.

A light haze turns to heavy fog. The skyscrapers around Victoria Harbor sneak from behind foliage, occasionally, before fading to nothing in the gray air.

I pass the ruins of the abandoned Pinewood Battery (built before WWI, used as anti-aircraft in WWII).

The trail becomes more developed: Toilets. Manicured green space. Flower beds. The bamboo groves sit farther away from my path.

The trail becomes more crowded. A white woman in jogging suit walks two small dogs and smokes a cigarette. A giant structure towers above the trees. The building hums. I reach the trailhead. A taxi darts past. A double-decker bus follows. Tourists buzz around a shopping mall. What? Shopping mall atop a mountain?



Joyce calls.

I tell her I am disappointed, hoped to find something other than an enormous mall full of McDonalds, Starbucks and expensive clothing boutiques.

I ride the escalators and eat a candy bar. A plastic and electronic fortune-telling machine mimicks a Greek or Roman god in a corner. An adjacent photography store sells beautiful landscapes. Nearby, the vacant eyes of two stuffed pandas stare from behind a glass storefront.



I leave the mall and continue uphill until the sidewalk disappears. I pass gated mansions and luxury residential complexes. I try to take a photo of one. The security guard chases me off, “No photo! No photo! Go!”

The hike was extremely enjoyable. It’s remarkable that Hong Kong could have such a great nature area in the heart of the city. Even so, I was hoping for something else at the top.

I had hoped to find a temple or some unique cultural experience. I felt disappointed because I found something all too familiar. I walk back down to HKU through a heavy fog and light drizzle.

Maybe the mall is the perfect addition to Victoria Peak. A temple to capitalism above Hong Kong Island seems appropriate, albeit anti-climactic.

Hong Kong exhibits one of the world’s most successful free market models. The city rose from “barren island” to booming metropolis and managed to preserve a great deal of its natural beauty. Wealth made it all possible, and consumption created the wealth.

Maybe when the weather is better, I’ll return for the view. After all, I’m here as a tourist, just like everyone else on Victoria Peak.