What time is it in Hong Kong?
Whereas I would place Shanghai in the futuristic-for-futurism’s-sake category (see my previous descriptions of empty Martian edifices–Hong Kong belongs under the label “practical futurism”. It is a city who’s modernistic debordements produce swifteness, ease and tourist’s oooooohs and aaaaaaaahs.
Let me give you a quick example before I delve into a chronological description of my one afternoon in the city: Hong Kong’s central station.
Glass doors, marble floors shiny enough for a cat-walk make up session and the airport check-in counters. That’s right you can check in for your flight right at the train station and then go and dawdle around the city instead of in the duty free zone (for once an enhancement that discourages pointless consumerism).
I arrived in Hong Kong airport last Wednesday at 12 pm. A short trip to travelex gave me my first glimpse of gang bi, Cantonese money. Among all the national currencies I’ve seen, I would place gang bi in second position (first are the euros and they’re impressionistic colors, us dollars come last: boring green green green all the way). Gang bi bank notes are freed of beautified political leaders and brandish bold lion sketches and flower watermarks.
Cantonese taxis almost rival their British companions, at last you’re talking about some decent leg space. From the airport to Hong Kong is a picturesque 45 minute drive across idyllic wilderness. Lush mountains roll upward alongside the airport highway, every corner hides a National Geographic photo opportunity: a cliff hanging over its gauze of water, a majestic suspended bridge whose cables stretch out like veins in a dragonfly’s wings.
Imagine Blade runner–come on, it’s a science fiction classic, who hasn t seen it?–after a good cleaning and bathed in citrus morning light: you get Hong Kong. Sky scrapers shoot up from every direction, hugged at the waist by off-white highways. Nestled underneath the highways, in between the buildings are small clean streets, bustling with luxury boutiques and neon labeled eateries. Unlike the big apple, there is no sighting of clear sky from inside the city, if you want to see where the rain is coming from, the only way is to crane your neck and face the downpour.
The last modernistic debordement: an animated subway map. When you are on the train to the airport, the map’s dense row of blue lights shows you exactly how far you are from the next station.
