I Hope This 'Peaks' Your Interest - Part 1

Work's been busy…the writing has suffered. A vicious weekend case of writer’s block didn’t help matters and now I beg your forgiveness and hope that you’ll stick with me. It’ll be a two-parter folks…just too much fun to squeeze into one post. The afternoon started innocently enough, but things ended up getting a little out of hand...

On Saturday morning I left my apartment at around 10 a.m. with a plan to explore the mountain top and to catch a glimpse of the famous view that I’ve being seeing in pictures all over the city. Looking to start the day off on the right foot, I grabbed an apple and a cup of coffee at a convenience store right around the corner from my place, sat on a park bench and enjoyed while reading the newspaper. It was a cold morning on account of a brisk wind that was whipping and eventually the overcast skies gave way to a drizzle that sliced through a low hazy fog. Hoping that I would be able to get safely under cover before it intensified, I finished the apple, threw away half a cup of coffee, tucked the paper under my arm and set off for the train station. Once within sight of the station, I spied a line of straphangers nearly as long as the one I had balked at last weekend. There must have been 200 people waiting their turn to fork over HK$56 for a ticket to board the train to the peak. I thought for a split second about aborting the mission, but the line seemed to be flowing along at an acceptable pace and considering the alternative was to wander back to my apartment in a cold rain, I decided to suck it up and hop on the end.

The line inched through a series of winding ropes (like the kind you find at a bank) and after about 20 minutes I reached a point near the front where two Chinese teenagers toting what looked to be a very expensive camera were picking off groups of people, escorting them to the far corner of the area and taking portraits against a backdrop of an oversized picture of the famous train. Their routine included herding groups against their tapestry, hastily taking a photo and then frantically shouting direction to move along in hurried Cantonese. Every three minutes thereafter, a third member of the operation would appear whose job it was to hound each party and attempt to unload an 8x10 copy of the photo in a cardboard, novelty frame for a mere HK$150. You could probably guess that I wanted absolutely nothing to do with this production and so when I reached the on-deck circle I informed one of the crew that I would regretfully have to pass. He shook his head sternly, smirked as if he had been given the right to take my photograph by city ordinance and then proceeded to push me on the back towards the corner. I began to fear that I was already making a scene and so I made one last half-hearted attempt to waive him off before I finally gave in. I limped to the backdrop, affixed myself to left of center, grinned awkwardly and counted the seconds until I saw the camera flash. I got to thinking that any person that would have done this willingly and without protest certainly must have a screw loose. And let’s not talk about the saps willing to pay good money for the product to keep this venture in business. I mean, let’s be serious, nostalgia set aside, a photo posing in front of a picture of a train should generate just about as much excitement as a shuffleboard tournament at a nursing home or an afternoon of bird watching or whatever... And so, needless to say that when it was my turn to fend off the hard sell, I politely declined and thanked her for agreeing to burn the awkward shot at the first chance she got.

We boarded the train and spent the 10 minute journey covering more distance vertical than horizontal. It was a real white-knuckle ride. The car traveled at such an angle that whoever engineered this system should be commended for figuring a way to keep the train from sliding down, and at some points, off the track. About three-quarters of the way up the slope the city began to appear from beyond thick foliage and it really was spectacular to see as we traveled to heights that dwarfed the tallest buildings.

I felt much more at ease as we finally pulled into the peak station and after disembarking I followed the crowd towards the station exit. Now, I had no idea what to expect at the peak, but given the elevation and limited ground surface I had envisioned that this area would be the most likely to have escaped the stranglehold that retail commerce has on this city. If I might take this opportunity to register a complaint…Hong Kong is the most commercialized place I have ever been. And it’s a real shame because in a lot of ways commercialization has sucked the life and uniqueness out of a city that given its history should be one of a kind. It’s no exaggeration either…it’s everywhere. Show a Hong Kongeses a vacant 5ft plot and he’ll show you more than a suitable location to shove a Mrs. Fields. Sadly I realized within minutes of arriving that the mountain was no escape from this epidemic. The peak was more or less two malls that offered a decent view.

It was a condensed version of any other section of the city in which I have been. You name the store or restaurant and it is up there. And, keeping true to form, I wasn’t the least bit surprised to locate two 7-11s shortly after arrival. The city as a whole is freckled with the popular convenience stores, and although plentiful, they bare but a small resemblance in offering to their U.S. counterpart.

Ok..I need to pause here for a second because I’m starting to break into a cold sweat…

7-11’s in Hong Kong are hands down the worst smelling establishments in the entire world. I realize it’s a bold statement but I’m confident making it given that anything more pungent would actually kill a man. The consistent odor that emanates from these stores is so incredibly retched that not only does walking by one teach your nostrils a lesson they’ll never forget, but the stench is literally so thick that you feel like you could actually chew it. The best I can offer by way of comparison is if for kicks you decided to microwave a bowl of vomit. I’ve peered in to see if I could pinpoint the root cause of the foulness and found that they have a food counter and a short-order menu with pictures of unrecognizable cuisine. I’m not certain what any of it is but let me put it this way, I’d sooner lower myself into a manhole armed with a pellet gun and a burlap sack in search of sustenance than order something off their menu. I quiver even keying this paragraph. It’s horrifying…

Alright, consider yourself warned if you ever visit, but I apologize for the tangent. I finally was able to make my way out of the mall to find a small trail that led to a series of viewing platforms that provided the perfect opportunity for me to show off my breadth behind the lens (see below). I stood for as long as I could take the cold and considered heading back home. However, as I passed the line for the train it was once again very long and what with having come all this way, I went looking for a place to grab a cold beer…

Oh yeah, I neglected to mention that I had a chance to slip over to the foothills of Scotland...