Hong Kong: Kowloon

"Kowloon" sounds like a dusty, poky town where you can spend your tiny gold nugget on a bottle of redeye and a skinny horse with no name. Hong Kong's Kowloon area, a peninsula hanging from mainland China, is anything but. Though you probably could find redeye, horses (at least parts), and whatever else you want there.

Kowloon, a bad transliteration of the Cantonese words for "nine dragons", is the place to go if you enjoy street markets. Want to know a secret about me? I'm all about street markets. If there's a cart with fruits and meats I can't identify covered with flying insects I also can't identify, that's where I want to be. Preferably after a hepatitis A vaccination.

Not that Kowloon isn't metropolitan. Kowloon packs stores, restaurants, shopping arcades, and businesses along its consumer-friendly avenues. Its main one - Nathan Road - cuts vertically through the city and during busy hours looks and feels like a cross between NY's Broadway and Tokyo's Shibuya. The cool thing about Kowloon is that you could traverse south-north through the city either via commercial arteries like Nathan, or by sticking to sparser, concretey suburban areas, or by going through the side streets, which offer nonstop markets and all the junky-but-tasty food you can stomach.

Instead of taking the ferry, Kelly and I took the MTR early in the morning. She got out before me - way north - for her teaching gig. I continued down to most tourists' starting point - the harbour area known as Tsim Sha Tsui, a name that no two people can pronounce the same way.

Assuming I had time to kill, I walked over to the architectural monstrosities known as the Hong Kong Museum of Art and the Hong Kong Cultural Centre, whose facades have all the splendor and distinction of a community college library, but, alas, I got there three hours before opening time. I then strolled up Nathan Lane, enjoying the commercial street without the throngs of people. That area of Kowloon teems with bakeries and pastry shops, and I popped into three or four to compare various mini-confections, sweet and savory and sometimes both. (I had a lengthy internal debate over a hot dog wrapped in a green tea-flavored steam bun with what looked like strawberry jam, and ended up with a bag of caramel tarts, a little chocolate fondant, and a massive barbecue pork bun. All amazing.)

My face smeared with caramelized pork juice, I didn't go into the world-famous Kowloon Mosque, which, sadly, resembles something out of Kingdom Hearts, at least from the outside (in the next entry, I'll show you pics of a Buddhist temple that brought to mind the Neverending Story). Instead, I went next door to Kowloon Park, the best park yet, but not for long. This Gumby guy greeted me at the entrance:



Given the early morning, the park was overrun by Tai Chi practitioners. They were legion and pesty, like really slow-moving pigeons. There were so many, I sometimes couldn't get by on a path. But of course I couldn't just elbow them in the face to get through, since they're being all calm-spirited and peaceful. Damn you, Tai Chi!

I stuck around and watched for awhile, and it struck me that Tai Chi is nothing more than the Thriller dance in slow motion.



I have to say, Kowloon Park is a damn fine park. They have a hedge maze (no matter how old you get, those things are always gleefully, manically fun), ponds with koi and turtles, and an outdoor aviary that was big enough to not make me feel bad about the birds, of which there were crested mynas, giant parrots, and a white cockatoo I named Coconut. I watched the birds while munching a few stray caramel tarts I found in my pocket.



I left through the northern entrance, which has a World Expo-sized countdown timer to the Beijing Olympics. Sadly, it looked unplugged and forgotten... presumably ever since it reached zero and that doofus Michael Phelps kicked everyone's ass. It made me pensive about larger-than-life countdown timers and how once they reach their goal, they become monuments to disappointing anti-climaxes. I soberly munched another caramel tart.



Crossing Austin Road, I hit Shanghai and then Bowring St. - a great shopping/market area that became the gateway to my morning and afternoon-long market adventures. To list all the streets would be a waste - if you find your way there, just go down all of them.

Weaving east and west in the areas between Joi Wang Rd. and Nathan (known as Yau Ma Tei), I slowly edged my way north, and it was a hell of a good time. It didn't hurt that the markets were still pretty empty given the hour and I kept stopping off at dingy corner shops for pork buns and congee. And, by the way, congee in Kowloon is one of the best deals in the country: $1.50-$2 US for a heaping bowl of rice porridge, ginger, scallions, blackened preseved egg, and unknown animal/fish pieces. Congee is the perfect comfort food that, unlike other comfort foods, can be eaten any time of the day. I challenge you to find a more perfect food that isn't deep-fried or packaged by Hostess.

After Waterloo Rd., I turned east to find a way into King's Park, unsuccessfully. It may be private - my guidebooks don't mention it at all, but it's prominent on my map with an enticing "Meteorological Station" asterisk. Clearly, they're doing secret starwatching or something.


(This is from the Promenade - I get to it later, just wanted to break up the text.)

I walked around Kwong Wah Hospital, another enticing asterisk, but - shock - it was just a big hospital. I really should just stick with the tourist spots. But near the hospital, I found an all-girls college. Hot cha cha! I hovered around like a creep for a minute or two, before feelings of shame and loserdom kicked in. I scarfed the rest of my caramel tarts and shuffled away.

I walked up to the Ladies Market, which had nothing to do with my creepiness. It's so named because the market includes clothes, along with the usual crates of pummelos and dragonfruit. Unfortunately, it was still early and the market was just setting up.



Now in Mong Kok, I walked up to the Flower Market (bypassing the Goldfish Market - too depressing), following the row of florists to Yuen Po Street Bird Garden, otherwise known as the Bird Market.

The Bird Market was terribly depressing. Little songbirds are crammed into small cages, where people buy them like toys. The scared, hopping little birds are considered good luck and you sometimes see older Chinese men carrying around the cages while the bird whistles in what sounded to me like distress signals. I now know why the caged bird sings.

I was there to meet Kelly, and mercifully she showed up before I blew all my money on purchasing and then opening all the cages. And, mercifully, before I could reconcile my sadness for the birds with all the animal flesh, skin, and organs I was shoveling into my maw this trip.

Speaking of which, even though I ate tarts, buns, and congee like it was my job, Kelly and I headed west to find a Shanghai dim sum place I'd read about. Unable to find it in the hustle and bustle of Mong Kok, we settled on a similar place. It was incredible. Beef and pork soup dumplings, think noodles, Chinese spinach with garlic, and about 10 other dishes all vied for room in my crowding gastro-pouch. High on the sweetness of Shanghai-ese food, we decided to walk all the way back down to Tsim Sha Tsui, retracing my steps but also finding new places, like the Jade Market, the Tin Hau Temple (pic below), and the Temple Street Night Market. (We also went to the commercial streets where I found DVDs of the two live-action Death Note films and the L spin-off. Score!)



We also went back to Kowloon Park - really so that I could stop off at a vending machine near the Olympics countdown timer that spits out a phenomenal juice of pear nectar and aloe chunks. Quite possibly the greatest beverage ever, boozy ones included. I drank one and bought three more.

Thinking we should be different, we didn't go down to the Star Ferry/Promenade area first, but to check out the western side of the harbor, known on my map as Harbour City. Unfortunately, it was a humongous mall with no way of getting outdoors, street-level, along the water. Regrouping, we hit the Promenade and its Avenue of Stars - a tribute to HK's film industry with Hollywood-like stars and handprints in the cement.


(Above pic by Kelly A.)


(Above pic by Kelly A.)

Waiting for the sunset for a dramatic Star Ferry ride back to Discovery Bay, we stopped off at one of the touristy waterside restaurants for drinks. Expecting a gouging, I was tickled to receive a bucket-sized vessel of Hoegaarden and I flashed my Eddie Deezen smile.



Stuffed from an entire day of nonstop caramel tarts, pork buns, congee, Shanghai dim sum, beer, and aloe chunks, we skipped dining out. Instead, we stopped off at Discovery Bay's huge supermarket and cooked a feast of ginger steak and sausage cassoulet. I slept that night like a beached whale.

But... somewhere a tiny caged bird sang.