cycling in the sticks

Yesterday, Paula and I cycled down to Shatin, where there is an extensive network of dedicated cycle tracks. The plan was to check out some of these tracks that we’d never cycled along before, but I also wanted to photograph a mural that we’d cycled past last week without stopping. This photo was taken from the northernmost bridge across the Shing Mun River that carries a cycle track:

It isn’t obvious from this photo, but there is a cycle track running along the riverbank here. The existence of a major highway directly behind the cycle track is indicated by the road sign.

It isn’t possible to get far enough away to capture the entire mural in a single photo, so I’ve arranged the following photos in order from left to right so that you can get some idea of the layout of the imagery.

This is the left-hand section of the mural:

…and this is a closer view of the left-hand end:

I didn’t notice the waterfall and lake when taking the photos, and I have no idea of the intended purpose of the vertical columns, whether they are supporting the sky or the highway above and behind the mural.

This is the central section:

It may not be obvious, but there are two monkeys in the background that are also riding bicycles. I did think that they could have been intended to be bears, except that there are no bears in Hong Kong, while macaques are indigenous, although I haven’t seen one for quite a few years. This is a closer look at one of them:

This is the right-hand section of the mural:

…and this is a closer view of the right-hand end:

Notice that the ‘columns’ extend all the way to the corner where the mural bends forward towards the cycle track, which isn’t the case at the left-hand end.

I imagine that this mural is intended to celebrate cycling in Hong Kong, although when we cycle along this track there isn’t a lot of traffic. However, we never come this way on weekends and public holidays nowadays, because based on our experience more than a decade ago, when we used to cycle to Sham Chung on the Sai Kung Peninsula, all the cycle tracks hereabouts are literally clogged with cyclists, and it isn’t a lot of fun to have to navigate a way through.

creepy crawlies

I discovered recently that Paula has been photographing caterpillars, beetles and sundry other insects without my being aware of her endeavours. However, given how exotic many of the creatures are whose images she has captured, when I saw them my immediate reaction was to think that her efforts deserve a wider audience. So here they are, with occasional comments by me, although I’m unable to provide formal identification.

I don’t know where any of the first five photos were taken, but I’ll start with a strikingly exotic caterpillar:

I think that this is a praying mantis:

…but this definitely is one:

I don’t know whether the next subject is a rhinoceros beetle, but it certainly has an extended proboscis:

The next photo was taken on the top bar of the railing that runs alongside the path across ‘the swamp’, a waterlogged area on the southern edge of Lung Yeuk Tau that we walk through regularly. I would swear that this caterpillar has a face:

All the following photos that have a green background were taken on this railing.

I think that this is a cicada:

Three hairy caterpillars:

This caterpillar is being menaced by ants:

I think that this is another praying mantis:

A short video of a hairy caterpillar:

Two colourful beetles:

I’ve no idea what this is, and it is overexposed, but I still feel that it’s a worthwhile inclusion in this collection:

Four more caterpillars:

The final photo isn’t of an insect, but I couldn’t think of anywhere else to post it. The recent heavy rains have brought giant snails out in large numbers (this one is about 10cm long):

And that’s a selection of all the creepy crawly photos that Paula has taken over the past few weeks. I shall have to be more observant next year.

sitting it out

Not many people in Hong Kong have access to private outdoor spaces where they can sit and enjoy some fresh air. As a result, many villages in the New Territories have designated communal ‘sitting-out areas’, usually provided by the Leisure and Cultural Services Department, that are accessible by anyone. This post describes all such facilities in my immediate neighbourhood, starting with the most northerly village, Siu Hang:

In addition to the benches, two of which are covered, there is a line of three spring-mounted animals that can be ridden by small children. In the foreground is a table with an engraved Chinese chess board, and two chairs for the players.

There are quite a few prohibitions regarding the use of such sitting-out areas:

• No damage of plants;
• No lying on benches (this would appear to be impossible);
• No bird feeding;
• No cycling;
• No dogs allowed;
• No drying of linen and clothes.

There are also separate ‘no smoking’ signs on the surrounding walls.

The next area is nearby, located next to the Drainage Services access road that runs alongside the Ng Tung River:

There are no identifying signs here, and therefore no prohibitions, but I will refer to it as the Siu Hang San Tsuen Sitting-Out Area (san tsuen means ‘new village’ in Cantonese, and such extension villages are quite rare). Stone benches like the ones here are uncommon—I know of just one other location with this kind of seating. I like to sit on the bench in the foreground and watch the tower cranes in action in the area formerly known as Ma Shi Po (‘horseshit area’).

The next photo shows the current state of the sitting-out area in the village where I live:

The original metal benches, which you can see on the right, are being replaced. And there is a basketball court, frequently in use, in the background. This location is designated a ‘children’s playground’, which appears to be standard practice wherever the facilities for children include a complex structure with some kind of slide.

I often take a break in the San Uk Sitting-Out Area, even though it is adjacent to Sha Tau Kok Road, which as the only road out of Fanling to the east carries a lot of traffic:

Both gazebos house Chinese chess tables and have eight sides (eight is the lucky number in Chinese culture). There are springy animals for children to ride on the right.

After crossing the main road, the next location reached is the Tung Kok Wai Children’s Playground, which has the most elaborate children’s play apparatus in this collection:

Note the Chinese chess table in the covered structure on the left.

I’ve not been able to find a name for the next area, mainly because I’m not sure which village it is located in, and there doesn’t appear to be an identifying sign:

It is directly opposite the front of the Tang Chung Ling Ancestral Hall. I rarely stop here, because the benches are distinctly uncomfortable to sit on (they’re quite low to the ground, and the backs are vertical rather than being swept back, like the standard benches in other locations). There are no children’s facilities and no adult fitness apparatus, despite the large open space in the photo.

The Ma Wat Wai Children’s Playground is so small that I took this photo from outside the area:

The final area that I’m covering in this report is the Wing Ning Wai Sitting-Out Area:

This is my favourite place to sit down for a short rest, mainly because not only can you not see a road from anywhere here; you can’t even hear one! And there are two majestic trees here too, one of which grows at a 45-degree angle, despite its size.

This is also the largest sitting-out area hereabouts, which is why I’ve included a second photo, taken about halfway down:

You can see how large the second tree is, and the rear entrance to Wing Ning Wai can be seen on the right (I often walk through the wai, the walls of which are almost non-existent now). The only covered seating here is at the far end.

And that’s a tour of my neighbourhood, which makes quite a pleasant walk, especially if you also take in the historical sites here.

gathering of the clan

A few days before Christmas last year, I was walking past the entrance to Kun Lung Wai, the walled enclosure in our village, and I couldn’t help but notice the pai bin next to the gatehouse:

I didn’t think anything of it at the time, because structures like this are fairly commonplace. However, whenever I walk back home from Luen Wo Hui, the district of Fanling nearest to our village, I tend to follow an indirect route that takes me through Wing Ning Wai, the oldest wai in the neighbourhood. And there was also a pai bin here that I saw as I exited the wai:

I immediately wondered whether there were more of these structures next to the other wais in the neighbourhood, so after first returning home, I decided to find out.

My intended first destination had been Tung Kok Wai, but for some unaccountable reason I forgot to turn right when I reached the unnamed road that starts next to this wai and instead simply carried on along the road. After about 200 metres, I rounded a right-hand bend and was confronted by this sight:

The ramshackle building, the likes of which I’ve seen many times in other locations, is a temporary theatre, and at the time that I took the photo, I could hear Cantonese opera being performed. But what struck me more strongly was the line of no fewer than ten pai bins:

You will notice that each pai bin is different. The top line reads ‘Lung Yeuk Tau’, the generic name for the entire neighbourhood, on each one, while the second line is a general feel-good slogan or motto. The third line is a cheng yu or ‘four-character idiom’, often mistakenly identified as a ‘Chinese proverb’ by people in the West. Incidentally, my favourite cheng yu is yim yee doh ling (‘cover ears, steal bell’). I think you can guess its meaning and the context in which it would be used!

I couldn’t get far enough away to capture everything in the previous two photos, but this photo, looking back the way I’ve just come, provides some extra detail:

The pai bins on the left mark the entrance to the theatre.

A little further on, just past the entrance to the large open space in front of the theatre, everything was suddenly very busy:

There were more pai bins crowded into the sitting-out area in front of the Tang Chung Ling Ancestral Hall (off-camera to the left). And the people with yellow jackets are there to direct traffic and marshal the crowds.

And this is a view of the main entrance to the ancestral hall:

You can see that the area in front of the hall was filled with tables, as was the sitting-out area and the large carpark behind the hall. Each table would have had a heater and a large pot filled with broth, into which participants would dunk bite-sized pieces of meat and seafood (food is an integral part of any serious Chinese celebration).

And this is a view from a short distance further along the road:

There were flags like these along all the roads in the area.

A short distance further along the road is Lo Wai, in my opinion the most impressive of the walled villages in this area:

There was a third pai bin on the far side of the road, off-camera to the right.

There was just one more port of call along this road:

There was just one pai bin in front of Ma Wat Wai, and for some reason it hadn’t been erected next to the gatehouse, which you can see on the left of the photo.

Time to backtrack, although I didn’t want to just follow the road, so I followed quiet paths to reach Tung Kok Wai, where there was also just one pai bin next to the gatehouse:

After ticking off Tung Kok Wai, I followed another path heading for Wing Ning Wai (where I took the photo above). However, my route took me past the only basketball court on the south side of Sha Tau Kok Road (there is also one in our village), the only road out of Fanling to the east. There were no fewer than five pai bins adorning the north end of the court:

…and two more pai bins on the south end, which I didn’t spot at the time but photographed the following day:

You can see a wall on the left of the photo that I think is too low to have a defensive function, but there was another pai bin over the entrance to the enclosed area:

It was now time to head home, but just before the road past Wing Ning Wai (Sui Wan Road) reaches the main road, there were five more pai bins (two on the left, three on the right):

This is a closer view of the two on the left:

There were three pai bins on the main road, presumably to alert participants in the festivities who were coming from Fanling (and beyond) that they should turn right here:

And this is what the junction looked like:

The village arch in this photo is a very recent construction. In fact, a few months ago, I was following my usual circuitous route home when I heard a lion dance in the distance, but by the time I reached the arch, the inauguration ceremony had finished. The inscription reads simply ‘Lung Yeuk Tau’.

This pai bin marked the entrance to San Uk, the first village that you will come to on the north side of Sha Tau Kok Road:

All this took place on a Saturday, and Paula always goes to church on Sundays. I walk with her as far as Luen Wo Hui, and on this occasion, just as we were starting along the path that links our village with San Uk, we encountered quite a large group of men dressed in traditional costumes. We didn’t have time to stop and watch what they might do, although I did notice that they headed towards the village shrine.

On my way back home, I decided to take a longer walk than usual, past Ma Wat Wai, and to my surprise I encountered what I assumed was the same group of costumed men in the vicinity of this wai:

I’m unable to comment on the purpose of their activities.

I also wanted to take a closer look at the open area in front of the theatre. There were fortune tellers around the perimeter, and also several shrines:

Notice the size of the joss sticks planted in the blue metal barrel in the first photo.

And this is a closer view of the ‘creature’ in the third photo:

…while this a view of the figures on the left of the creature:

I conjecture that the two figures furthest from the camera are members of a harem (‘sing-song girls’), while the nearer pair are eunuchs. I’m unable to offer any information on the identity of the central focus of this shrine, but although I’ve used the term ‘creature’, I suspect that it represents a human, despite its fearsome appearance.

Finally, this is a view of the front of the theatre:

No performance was taking place, so I felt confident about going inside without being asked to pay:

During this visit, I also learned that the celebrations here take place every ten years, and presumably they attract members of the Tang diaspora from around the world. Members of the clan are the principal landowners here, and they used to dominate local politics, to the extent that a Tang was always returned unopposed in the district board constituency where I’m registered to vote. That no longer happens.