I recall it was a warm Saturday in July when I decided, against my better judgement, to wander around Kwun Tong just for the hell of it. In retrospect, walking around Hong Kong’s most densely populated district in the middle of a global pandemic ‘just for the hell of it’ probably isn’t the best idea, but hey, hindsight’s 20/20 and I’m still COVID-free (at the time of writing…). Perhaps it was to escape from the stacks upon stacks of to-reads piling up on my bedside drawer, maybe it was I was running away from self-inflicted pressure to do something productive, or I simply wanted to, for once in my life, do something without purpose; I’m not entirely sure what convinced me to take a 45-minute bus ride to Kwun Tong just for the hell of it, but I did.
Taking the 268C route, I got off at the Town Centre, near the apm shopping centre. I walked around the surrounding streets, industrial centres with worn-out external walls serving as the backdrop to my little city tour. Busy streets packed full with people on their phones, be it on calls, composing texts, or responding to e-mails — there was a heavy aura of commercialism around the area. With my headphones on, my phone was firmly placed in my pocket. I feasted my eyes on the surrounding skyscrapers while wandering purposelessly around one of the busiest areas in Hong Kong, I was, perhaps, the odd one out. Music does its best to drown out the noise of the city, yet the sound of its heartbeat is always prevalently apparent. I can always feel it in my bones, that rhythmic mix of shoes making contact with concrete floors, thumbs thumping on phone screens, all urging me to leave, to go back home and do something worthwhile. I wandered here to escape from such feelings and it was all rushing back to me. I knew then that I needed a change of venue, and I needed it quickly. So I did what I do best — hop on a bus and run away from my problems.
An important detail you must keep in mind is that I didn’t plan any of this. So when I got on that bus, I truly didn’t know where I would be heading. Be it luck, or fate (aren’t they one and the same?) I got on a bus that stops near Kwun Tong Promenade. The urban waterfront park is a true oasis allowing escape from busy city life, showcasing an entirely different side of the district. When I arrived there, I sat down on one of the many wooden benches along the coastline, not really doing anything, just… taking in the view. I even took of my headphones; there was no point in keeping them on anymore. All I heard was the sounds of nature — the rustling of leaves, the whistling of the wind, the susurration of waves trying to emerge onto the Cruise Terminal — they were music to my ears. The sight of joggers on the wooden boardwalk prompted me to get up and explore the rest of the Promenade. As I strolled along the coastline, I saw people reading, chatting, I even saw a woman painting the scenery. Everyone was so… slowed down. The atmosphere was relaxed, not a string of tension could be sensed.
I slowly made my way to the mid-point of the Promenade — the viewing pavilion. A few children were running around, so happy, so… free. Free from worry, free from responsibilities — how I wish I could go back now. Walking past the amphitheatre and the plaza, I eventually reached the landmark tower of the Promenade. Paying tribute to the district’s history as a public cargo working area, four giant wooden crates are (faux-)randomly stacked on top of each other. Another crate is situated a few metres in front of the ‘tower’. The singled-out crate is semi-submerged into the ground, tilting it diagonally. One of my first thoughts after seeing the unique artistic tribute is of its similarities to the Bank of China Tower in Central. I have absolutely no idea if this is intentional or not, just an observation I found interesting. I stood there for quite some time, lost in the sight of the tower and the symphony of the Promenade. I suppose I must’ve looked like a madman, as I’m pretty sure I stayed there for no less than 15 minutes. But eventually, I had to leave, and return to my life of work and work and… well, work.
As I walked back to the bus station, luck (or fate) would have me stumble upon a peculiar spot: VESSEL 01. It was, in a sense, an extension of the Promenade, though unlike the Promenade, this wasn’t run by the LSCD (rather by the FSO, another government department). However, it does serve a similar purpose — paying tribute to Kwun Tong’s past. One of the features of the project (and the one I was initially drawn to) was the crane re-creation. A tall tower of yellow and grey, no doubt what construction workers use to climb onto the crane, was put smack-centre in the park. I sat there, on the stone seats next to the crane tower and the orange and green crane re-creation as I watched kids skateboarding on stairs and parkouring across walls, I felt the same aura of relaxation I had felt back at the Promenade — and a fraction of what I’m sure the kid were feeling at the time. I didn’t — or rather, I dared not — partake in skateboarding or parkouring, I merely sat there and watched someone else experience those things. But somehow, in a way, I felt free. I felt liberated. I felt pure euphoria surging through my veins. So maybe that’s all it takes. A few hours wandering around an unfamiliar district, escaping reality for a few hundred minutes. Maybe all we need to do is put down what we’re doing, take out our headphones, let go of our responsibilities, and just… look around.
Just that.
[first draft written on 3rd March 2021]
*all photos taken by ender07