London Mum (Part 2)
One week down, one to go… After seven days of playing tour guide to my mother I have discovered areas of this amazing city I didn’t know existed. From the wonderfully aromatic and colour-rich wet market laying it’s assault on your senses to the more thoughtful experience of perusing the antique shops and street market tucked behind Hollywood Road.
After talking my mother down from an over enthusiastic attachment to a pair of antique ceramic horses – I feared a less than positive reception at the airport if she turned up with an additional 50kg of luggage – we played tag with the Hong Kong weather. Dodging torrential rains and dashing out when the sun made an appearance we have racked up some good mileage whilst introducing her to the normality of our day-to-day life.
Following a gentle start to her stay we upped the ante this weekend by heading out for a hike over Lamma Island on Saturday and a glorious junk boat trip on Sunday. Today saw us share a new experience as we ventured up to The Peak on the funicular railway, being greeted at the top by the most spectacular views under a cloudless sky.
Moving into the second week the itinerary is packed – whilst still punctuated with some intensive design work and business plan research.
A woman of many talents, my mother is a highly sensitive person. Seeing what most people miss she quickly picked up on the dual personality of this colourful city – and those souls who are invisible to most. Being such an affluent city Hong Kong – like many others with wealth and employment – attracts those in search of a better, or at least richer, life. This is true from the uber wealthy bankers on super salaries, right through to the boat people selling meagre offerings on street corners. Ultimately the intent is the same but sadly the reality is much more divided. Relegated to over crowded boats with basic facilities, these illegal immigrants are trapped in the cruel irony that Hong Kong has created. Wealth is very evident here, with new opportunities arising frequently, however, it is not a city sympathetic to poverty. To gain more you must start with more.
In a city where the heat can be unforgiving and the bliss of an air-conditioned room a mecca at the end of every outing it is a cruel reality that leaves those with nothing – not out in the cold – but in the scorching sun.
