Accessible Hong Kong
From the moment the plane landed, I was captivated with the exotic Chinese port of Hong Kong. Although the trip was for business, it would have been difficult for me to ignore the intriguing experience of being enveloped in the unique eastern culture. My husband Kent and fellow-instructor John were to teach two three-day classes in municipal swimming pool operation. My daughter Wendy accompanied us so I wouldn't be stuck in a hotel room for six days. She soon learned her rewards would be an unforgettable visit and "buns of steel".
However, even before departing, there were accessibility challenges. The airline we had chosen required my SCI physician to complete a two-part document called Incapacitated Passengers Handling Advice. The form, a medical release and a general information form, assists the carrier in making flights more comfortable for disabled passengers, outlining any special equipment or medical assistance the individual might need and the airline should provide. I have never been asked to file one with another carrier, either domestic or international.
Because we had not traveled in the Orient before, Wendy and I had many hidden anxieties surface, demanding resolution. Could two women - one in a wheelchair - handle the rigorous demands of Hong Kong? Would we be safe scouring the city by ourselves? How would we deal with the difficult Chinese language? What would the weather be like? Which clothes should we pack? The Internet provided us with all the information we needed to put us at ease. Additionally, since she was in charge of Fun-Fun-Fun, Wendy even planned a rigorous itinerary for us. When departure day finally arrived we were ready.
On the evening of the long-awaited moment, Kent and I flew to Los Angeles, where we rendezvoused with fellow-instructor John and daughter Wendy. The flight to Hong Kong was non-stop, leaving LA on Thursday evening and landing in Hong Kong on Saturday morning. We were aloft twelve to fourteen hours, had three in-flight meals and lost Friday en route. The aircraft was huge, carrying about 400 passengers. Wendy, Kent and I had the three outside bulkhead seats, directly behind the "blueroom" and the airline "kitchen", very convenient for me. John was just across an aisle, very convenient for Kent.
We landed early Saturday morning as the giant city was awakening. A new airport now services the area but, when we were there, the old one was still active. Hong Kong International Airport was large and confusing, especially to those who did not read Chinese. Fortunately, a skycap met us at the plane and escorted us through customs. I have found this practice customary for handicapped passengers at all airports, at least for all airlines that fly to U.S. destinations.
Emerging from customs, we were met by a Hong Kong Urban Services Director, a talkative, amiable, outgoing woman - with a very western name - who spoke outstanding English. She made all the arrangements for getting our tired but eager party, along with our luggage, to the hotel - no small feat. Automobiles in Hong Kong are very small and our party consisted of six people, four suitcases and a wheelchair. We took two cars. Later, this delightful Chinese woman would help us choose which of the many sights we definitely should fit into our itinerary.
We had reservations at a hotel in Kowloon, Tsimshatsui, on the mainland portion of Hong Kong, as is the airport. Riding there we were able to see how a large population fits into such a small place. When a city can no longer spread to accommodate its population growth, it changes direction and grows upward. Hong Kong has done just that; skyscraper apartment houses occupy almost every inch of land not used in commercial ventures. Laundry poles extending from each balcony with fluttering black-and-white garments. Ground floors are mostly shops and other businesses. Surprisingly, the streets didn't appear crowded but, of course, early Saturday morning is hardly typical.
Our first Hong Kong accessibility challenge came when we arrived at the hotel. The front desk was located one flight up from the ground, reached by escalator. How would we get the wheelchair upstairs? The only solution was the service elevator, so we rode with the luggage. Once in the hotel lobby, we could easily access elevators to our floor, but Wendy and I did not plan to stay in the hotel for eight days.
When the four of us were together, we simply used the escalator, illegal in some places. Kent would tip the chair back and push it onto the moving stairway. John would act as safety and Wendy would carry the cameras. In an adjoining shopping mall, Wendy and I later discovered a bank of elevators servicing an attached business tower. Although the business crowd found two American tourists rather curious, we successfully used them each day. That is, except in the evening when the elevators became the only entrance to an exclusive top-floor restaurant and nightclub.
Since we had all day before us and we were in such an exciting place, our fatigue seemed to evaporate and was replaced by an eager anticipation to see Hong Kong. It was Saturday, an exceptional day to see the Stanley open-air market on Hong Kong Island, we had been told. Off we went...
It was only a short walk along the waterfront to the Star Ferry terminal, definitely my favorite experience of the Hong Kong transit system. The efficient people mover became the basis for our many tourist adventures in the oriental territory. We could not ride on the upper deck, because steps prohibited boarding the wheelchair, but I grew to love our rides on the open-air lower deck of the green-and-white boats. Crossing the busy channel became the highlight of every day.
(Few individuals in Hong Kong own automobiles; they use public transportation and buses, ferries and trains are never empty. Kent and John attributed crowded conditions for the success of the oriental ability to "go within" and become centered. Within may truly be a Chinese citizen's only solitude.)
In order for me to board the ferry in my chair, Kent pushed me down the smooth side of a long ramp on the dock and a crewman helped me onto the rocking ferry. The remainder of the ramp had diagonal strips to help passengers descend safely. On this harbor crossing, my wheelchair was simply locked near the railing so I could easily watch the activity in the waterway. It wasn't until the final days of our visit that I noticed the specially built wheelchair enclosures. Fashioned from iron pipes the size of handicap bars, there were two on every ferry; each held one chair and was located on the side of the engine room very near the entrance and exit ramp.
The flavor of this sprawling city really became a reality for all of us on the short ferry ride to "Central", across Hong Kong harbor. The wind rustling our hair and clothing, the water pounding the hull and occasionally spraying us, the other boats going every which way and that incredible skyline -- it was wonderful! The square, very tall buildings we had already identified as apartment buildings were everywhere, accompanied by the typical business buildings. Dotting the horizon were bits of green peaks -- mountain tops! The entire region, we discovered, is mountainous and the only flat land is that reclaimed from the sea - a never-ending project in the city.
Once we docked at Central, we boarded a bus for a ride across the 30-square-mile island to the seaside village of Stanley, one of the island's oldest settlements. Our journey took us south, over the "top", past Repulse Bay and to the home of the famous Stanley Street Market. Sauntering down the shop-and-stall-lined street gave just a hint of the immense shopping Mecca Hong Kong has become. Stanley, like all of Hong Kong, is extremely hilly. There are no flat areas; it's all either up or down -- definitely a challenge for a wheelchair. At the end of the long, exciting day, I very much needed a nap!
Since the next day, a Sunday, was also not a teaching day for Kent and John, they accompanied Wendy and me on our trip to Lantau Island to see the world's largest Buddha at Po Lin (Precious Lotus) Monastery. Getting there meant first riding across the harbor on the Star ferry and then transferring to another, larger vessel for the ride to Lantau Island. The trip took just over an hour and although it wasn't really cold, the breeze was more than we wanted to endure the entire time. To get out of the wind, we choose to go inside, which meant lifting the chair over a three-inch hatch threshold. Luckily, with two strong men with me, I made it aboard. To have a view, we had to navigate a steep set of stairs to the top deck. Again, Kent and John came to my rescue and literally carried the chair upstairs. In order to take pictures, passengers had to brave the sea breezes outdoors high on the bow of the large boat. I remained indoors because the deck was too small to accommodate the wheelchair.
When we docked on Landau, we still had a long bus ride across the island up a 2,460-foot grade to the monastery. The bus was filled with Chinese tourists on their way to one of the territory's most visited sites. They either didn't mind the hard, bumpy ride or expected nothing more.
Standing on a plateau opposite the monastery, Daibutsu, or Great Buddha, sits atop Lantau Peak. On the high prometory, the huge statue is visible from the sea. The magnificent bronze sculpture was constructed in 1990 at a cost of HK$68 million, weighs 246 tons and is 88 feet tall. Since the wheelchair could not ascend the long stairway leading to the statue, a young Buddhist monk drove us up an access road in the monastery van. After photographing and thoroughly examining the bronze figure, our weary party napped our way back to our hotel.
John and Kent left the hotel early Monday morning, taking the efficient rapid transit to the teaching site, several miles north. Wendy and I ordered a room-service breakfast, fearing we might not find western food elsewhere - much less a fork. Wendy, Kent and I were in one of the two assigned rooms and John in the other. Our little suite of rooms consisted of a living room, bath and bedroom with two beds, one twin-sized, perfect for Wendy. John, however, had the larger of the two rooms with accommodations that probably were better for a wheelchair. His room, unfortunately, would house only an individual or a couple, but no extra party.
The hotel's bathrooms were all beautifully decorated with marble floors elevated about an inch above the carpet of the other rooms, making it impossible for me to enter the bathroom alone. I could get out but not in! Additionally, while it looks wonderful, marble is not the safest material for handicap use. When damp, floors can be slippery and extremely dangerous.
Wendy and I, somewhat cautious yet still eager, had planned our days well. We began with a trip to the top of Victoria Peak, hoping the view would give us a better grasp of the city's layout. To get to the peak tram, we had to take the Star ferry to Central and a taxi to the tram station. First, we wisely asked the hotel desk to write, in Chinese, the destination, so we could tell the taxi driver where we wanted to go. Taxi drivers usually do not understand English.
Boarding the tram was a challenge, we found. Wendy had to help me climb the stairs, then go back, fold the chair and bring it aboard. I always travel with elastic cords to secure the folded chair. Even though she had done it many times, Wendy didn't work fast enough to suit the tram engineer. He waited, saying nothing, while she scurried to board. We were glad when the episode was over.
Victoria peak rises high above the city and gives one a hint of the magnitude of the incredible populous region. A mile-long trail around the peak affords tourists incredible views of all sides of the island. Although it is quite flat, the length alone will tire even the most stalwart. Also, since it was January, it wasn't exactly warm.
Our second accessibility challenge came that same day when we decided to have lunch while we were at the top of Victoria peak. We asked the location of an elevator so we could get to the snack shop on the level directly below the tram exit and the souvenir shop. It was only one flight down but the stairs posed a hazard we couldn't surmount. We were told the only elevator was one used for cargo, but we could use it. Wendy and I, with the chair, could barely fit inside the tiny wooden box but we triumphantly met the challenge, both down and up again after lunch.
Tuesday, because of fatigue, Wendy and I altered our plans and we toured the Hong Kong Cultural Centre, located on the Star Ferry Concourse adjacent to the hotel. Elevators access all the floors of this elaborate complex, which houses a 2,100-seat concert hall, 1,750-seat grand theatre, a smaller studio theatre and the Hong Kong Space Museum. In the Hong Kong Museum of Art (also included), we saw a profusion of Chinese paintings, ceramics, bronzes, jade and delicate embroideries. One gallery housed the Xubaizhai collection of Chinese painting and calligraphy. Magnificent!
Restored again by Wednesday, we ventured to the unique and wonderful Hong Kong Bird Market. Even though it was not far our hotel, we went by taxi, knowing the driver would take us to the very best location. We were correct. The bird market is in a two-block long alley, so narrow and crowded there was barely room for my wheelchair. Every inch of space, on both sides, not occupied with tiny square cages of singing birds was filled with decorative cages to house a new pet or containers of wiggling bugs to feed him or her.
Since space is a premium in Hong Kong, birds are very popular pets. Grasping a handle on the bottom of a cage, Chinese men are often seen "walking their birds". We observed one gentleman holding his birdcage next to a wall of bird containers, apparently picking a mate for his bird. This unique market was a wonderful experience.
Since we were only a few miles from the hotel, we decided to forgo a taxi. Instead, Wendy pushed me down Kowloon's famous Nathan Road for a glimpse of this shopper's paradise.
On Thursday, we ventured to the Portuguese territory of Macau. Without an airport, the small island can be reached only by boat. We traveled from Central, in Hong Kong, on a fast hydrofoil. Like Hong Kong in July 1997, the island of Macau, in the year 2000, will again become a part of China. Today, they use a separate currency, speak Portuguese, Chinese and English, and are proudly independent from the rest of the world.
Although the island is small, downtown Macau is not near the ferry terminal. Apparently travelers must hail a taxi, take a bus or have someone meet the ferry. We could find no place to walk, so we chose to take a cab. The driver took our Hong Kong money, but gave us change in Portuguese coins.
Macau is very like a rural part of the Hong Kong territory. The settlement is small and there are many, many motorbikes - a great many more than I'd seen in Hong Kong. We explored the skeleton of St. Paul's Cathedral, a burned Portuguese mission church.
We returned to our hotel, on another fast vessel, in time to join Kent and John for an evening stroll at the very crowded Temple Street Night Market. There were stalls lining either side of the street plus another row of back-to-back stalls in the center. If there were any other tourists, I didn't see them, but the market was filled with Chinese. Here we encountered, for perhaps the first time, the true flavor of Hong Kong. Called Yau Ma Tei, the market stalls were selling inexpensive clothing and accessories, mostly menswear. There were also many food stalls, full of fruits, vegetables and an array of wiggling things. We devoured something very delicious, not knowing - or caring - what it was. Story tellers, fortune tellers and Chinese musicians helped to make the evening remarkably interesting. To cap off our adventure, we walked down Nathan Road once again. It is a different experience at night, when it is filled with even more people and becomes a riot of neon lights.
Friday, Wendy and I ventured again to Hong Kong Island to explore the Hollywood Road area known for antiques. A taxi took us to the large Man Mo Taoist Temple in the center of the area. In order for us to enter the courtyard, Wendy had to maneuver the wheelchair over the threshold of an oriental gate. I could only view the temple from outside, since several steps prevented me from entering. The smoky air from the large coils of incense hanging everywhere did not, however, escape me.
After walking a block or two on Hollywood Road, we stopped for lunch in a tiny English tea-and-sandwich shop. Fashioned after a British pub, with most of the tall seats at a bar near the front entrance, it was a major feat just getting the wheelchair to a table in the rear. But, when the waitress spoke to us in English, we were immediately put at ease. Over lunch, we decided to leave Hollywood Road for later when Kent, a true antiques lover, could accompany us.
Leaving the shop behind, we made our way east toward the ferry terminal. Near the heart of the city, we saw a sign for the Teaware Museum. Unable to resist, we started up a long steep hill toward Hong Kong Park. The immense grade was much more demanding than it appeared and we made two rest stops before we finally reached the top. Wendy truly earned her buns of steel that day!
The Museum of Tea Ware is housed in the Flagstaff House, built in 1846 as the home of the Comander-in-Chief of the British forces. We learned about the art of making tea, the famous Yixing clay used in Chinese teapots, and how to use the decorative pots, trays and bowls. We also saw an outstanding display of tea ware donated by tea connoisseur Dr. K. S. Lo. By the time we descended the steep hill, we had each purchased a teapot and a bag of tea and knew how to prepare and serve the beverage -- all with the proper respect.
That evening, we took a taxi to the Hong Kong Urban Services Office to join Kent and John and our Chinese hosts. From there we visited the wonderful Miu Fat Monastery. Regarded as one of the greatest temples in Southeast Asia. Off to one side of the main temple, overlooking a quiet pool, is a lovely statue of Koon Yum (known as Qwan Yin in this country), the Chinese Goddess of Compassion and Mercy. The incense smoke in one of the temple buildings was so overwhelming it burned our eyes and forced us outdoors quickly.
In the temple, I noticed Chinese worshipers kneeling, one at a time, on a pillow before the altar, each shaking a round box of sticks (resembling the pick-up sticks of my youth) until a single stick fell out. When I asked our guide about it, she told me the fallen stick gave the number for a printed fortune. She suggested I try it and, when I did, she translated my fortune (good, of course) into English for me.
We crowned the evening with a Thai dinner. Happily, people eat with forks in Thailand, and I gratefully ate my dinner with a fork. With it, we were served the traditional beverage and I witnessed the quiet respectful attitude of the Chinese as they always served tea to each of us before filling their cups. It was a most pleasant evening.
With only one night left in Hong Kong, we felt that familiar feeling of time running out with too much left to see. Having completed the teaching, Kent was ready to scour out antiques. Wendy and I knew just the place and took him to Hollywood Road and spent the day buying far too much.
We will forever be grateful to one shop owner for providing us with the information to know the dates that coincide with a particular dynasty. On the back of his business card was the vital data. The solution was, indeed, too simple; we dubbed the valuable little pieces of paper Dynasty Cheaters.
Sunday, we readied ourselves, reluctantly, to say goodbye to the beautiful Asian port. With one of the Urban Services students as our tour guide, we went through the tunnel under Hong Kong harbor and tried not to think of the ferry ride we missed. Once on the island, we went back to Stanley Market to fill every remaining niche in our bags with more Chinese souvenirs. We bought chops, embroidered umbrellas, incense, fans and the perennial tee-shirts.
From there, we took the road down to Repulse Bay to see the "traditional Chinese-style Life Guard Club". Our guide explained, the Taoist temple is dedicated to China's lifeguards; to me it seemed a rather odd blend of religion and swimming but, nonetheless, quite a lovely thought. To my delight, one of the largest statues of Koon Yum stood in front of the temple on the beach. What a nice way to end our trip.
As the sun dipped into the Chinese mountains, we made our way to the airport. Too soon, we were boarding our flight to Los Angeles. Since we had no plans to return, saying goodbye to Hong Kong was a somewhat melancholy event. There was so much we hadn't done, so many sights we hadn't seen! However, rather than be unhappy, we chose to dwell on the many wonderful experiences we'd had.
For a short time, we had been in a culture much older than ours and oh, so different from our familiar western way of life. To imagine all of this developing long before our country was even an idea is truly mind-boggling. No other four individuals felt more fortunate than we did. The lovely city of Hong Kong had stolen our hearts. We were all smitten and someday... we will return. ~
