The stone steps that lead nowhere—and everywhere—in Hong Kong
From the MTR exit at Shau Kei Wan, the air changes. Down at the tram terminus and the fishmongers on…
Hong Kong
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The 5:30 AM City That Becomes a Ghost Town by Lunch
The air in Kowloon City’s wet market at first light is a physical substance, not a collection of scents. It…
The hour before sound arrives in Tai O
Tai O wakes before its own reputation does. By five-thirty in the morning, the stilt houses along the water channels…
Staunton and Shelley: The Wrong Stop That Wasn’t
The escalator that carries passengers up through Central to the Mid-Levels is, at nearly any hour, a moving diorama of…
The floorboards moved. So did the bunk.
The ferry from Central Pier left well after the evening rush, which meant the sky was already doing that Hong…
One window, one wall, one very long climb
The flat was on the seventh floor of a tong lau in Sham Shui Po, and by the time we…
One Nod and a Wok
The last of the neon signs dimmed around 1:30 AM. Temple Street was still slick with the night’s runoff —…
The curry that comes when it’s ready
The first thing you notice isn’t the smell of curry, though that arrives soon enough. It’s the sound of cleavers…
The last fire in Kowloon
The smoke hit us first, about twenty metres before we reached the corner. Not the acrid, petroleum-heavy exhaust of the…
The oil stain on the pavement is how you find it
The oil stain on the pavement is how you find it. Not a sign, not a queue that snakes around…