One Country, Two Stories By Gary Lee Washington Post Staff Writer Sunday, October 11, 1998; Page E01

Hong Kong Harbor. (File Photo)

The next stop on my China tour, Shanghai, gave me a chance to visit the roots of the Communist Party in this country, including the former residence of Sun Yat Sen, founder of the Chinese republic, and the girls' school where communists held their first secret meeting in 1921. But no Shanghai moment struck me quite like my evening in a nightclub so decadent it brought to mind days when this city was one of the world's most notorious dens of vice.

I had journeyed to the two cities to see how Western-style democracy and communism were playing out alongside each other under China's red and yellow flag. Sixteen months have passed since the high-profile ceremony during which Great Britain handed off control of Hong Kong to Beijing. During the handover, Chinese communist leaders said that Hong Kong could forge ahead with its democratic government and free-market approach to commerce, fashioned during 155 years of British rule. Meanwhile, the rest of China--including Shanghai, once a bastion for Western commerce on the mainland and today the burgeoning economic center of the People's Republic--would remain under control of the Communist Party.

After a week in each place, I concluded that neither fits easily into a mold. Hong Kongese are not mere Westernized free-market consumers. Sure, they take to up-to-the-minute fashion trends and hit songs as quickly as their counterparts in New York or London. But on the other hand, they are clearly spiritual, nature-loving and utterly Chinese in constitution, a people who regularly commune with Buddha and whenever possible seek serenity among songbirds in the city's isolated outer islands.

And the Shanghainese are hardly textbook Maoists. True, those I met were quick to cite the advantages socialism afforded them, such as tea at 25 cents a cup and apartments that rent for $25 a month. But as their home town becomes the centerpiece of emerging Chinese commerce and culture, they are developing a certain taste for Calvin Klein, Boys II Men and other trappings of the bourgeois West.

In the end, I was left with the eerie feeling that I had stumbled across twin sisters who had been separated at birth and raised by different parents--and who now had been reunited in adulthood.

Both cities are oversize metropolises that, from a bird's-eye view, look like forests of skyscrapers. (Technically speaking, Hong Kong is not a city but a Special Administrative Area.) Both are centers of Asian commerce where international power brokers flock. Both have served as magnets for European and American expatriates, and both have maintained a Western aura that's rare in most other Chinese cities.

After Mao's 1949 revolution, however, Hong Kong and Shanghai took separate paths. Closed to Western settlement, Shanghai became a stronghold of the party faithful. Fleeing bloodshed and economic upheaval, thousands of Chinese entrepreneurs and landowners ended up in Hong Kong.

In the late 1980s, both cities again were launched on different courses. As part of its post-Mao campaign for economic change, the Chinese government designated Shanghai as the emerging center of Chinese commerce and culture, prompting a boom in population and building. Around that time, Great Britain announced it would transfer control of Hong Hong back to China, which led to a mass exodus of Hong Kongese to the West. Since then, the playing field between the two cities has seemed to level gradually.

In spite of the similarities, the cities offer very different experiences to the casual traveler. One of the world's leading enclaves of gastronomy, Hong Kong has something to titillate every palate. Shopping, always a big draw in this conglomeration of markets and malls, is particularly good in these tough economic times, when everything from jade rings to camcorders are going at discounts of 30 percent or more. I landed in Hong Kong with a credit card in hand and returned with a suitcase bulging with bargains.

In its new-found role as the only foothold of Western-style democracy in China, Hong Kong also has the air of a city on a mission, much like the spirit that hung over West Berlin when it was surrounded by communist-ruled East Germany. That struck me most clearly when I was out walking past Hong Hong's Victoria Park and stumbled across a demonstration against the 1989 massacre at Tiananmen Square--an event that, in any other Chinese city, would likely have been squelched by the People's security police.

As the emerging center of the Chinese arts scene, Shanghai offers U.S. travelers the softest possible landing in the enigmatic land of jade and Confucius. An ongoing revival in Shanghai's cultural life has brought the magnificent Shanghai Museum, an overhaul of the Shanghai Opera and a wave of trendy restaurants and music clubs.

For those who like to mingle with locals, Shanghai also has the edge. Hong Kongese usually seemed too busy to chat with a hapless traveler from the United States. Despite having little more than guidebook Chinese to assist me, however, I found the Shanghainese willing to share their time and views with me. From the engineer who volunteered to take me on a walking tour, to the gay couple who told me about the city's fledgling scene, to the two physicians who gave me a mini-lesson on acupuncture, they were affable and eager.

A place where few individual travelers are brave enough to venture, Shanghai has a wonderful road-not-taken feeling. No long queues of tourists filled the museums. Good tables were always available at restaurants. Finding peaceful retreats in Shanghai was easy, too. After a day or so of gaining my bearings, I made a habit of ambling down side streets, where I would find a small tea house offering dozens of teas and a quiet ambiance.

Straight off the plane, passing through the crowded streets and into my room at the elegant Mandarin Oriental, I had the sense that Hong Kong was hooked to a live electric wire. The city was alight with neon and throbbing with people, a sort of Midtown Manhattan translated into Cantonese. The comparison with New York is apt. The area's population (6.4 million) is only slighter smaller than New York's, though its land mass, spread over 450 square miles, is much bigger.

The effects of the Asian recession on the place were glaring. Going-out-of-business signs hung in many store windows; huge posters advertising deep discounts glared out from the others. Reflecting a record high rate of joblessness, panhandlers appeared to stake out every street corner on Hong Kong and Kowloon islands.

As I bellied up to espresso bars and dim sum counters, however, the city easily rose to its reputation as a favorite among the globe-hopping Gucci and Hermes set. Feigning ambivalence about the heavy toll the Asian economic crisis is taking, locals and expatriates seemed intent on holding the banner of capitalism high enough for the rest of the world to see. For a midday power break, they pack the tables at Vong, where an Asian-French fusion lunch can easily cost $100 a person. After work they pile into Club '97, where the lights are low and the sound system plays soothing tunes out of London. Whether wandering among the trendsters or posted at the famous city-overlook urinals in the men's room in the penthouse bar of the Peninsula Hotel, everybody seemed to have an ear glued to a private phone.

"Economic bad times have done little to lower the volume around Hong Kong," said Jill Killeen, a Canadian public relations agent who was based there for four years. "People seem to consider the loss of a million dollars one day as a challenge to make 2 million the next."

"You're nobody in this town unless you have a cell phone," David Ng said over a glass of watermelon juice. Perhaps to demonstrate his status, the 30-year-old social worker pulled his Nokia out three times to make calls during our half-hour conversation.

For me, a fortysomething cell-phone-less guy raised in Oklahoma sagebrush, the mood was contagious. In our own attempts to roll high, my traveling companion, Emmanuel Tayo, and I visited a few restaurants--Hong Kong attracts chefs and epicures from the world over.

Breakfast found us hunched over a cup of oolong and a plate of dim sum at Luk Yu Tea House, which serves traditional but tasty versions of the doughy Cantonese specialty. One afternoon we shared a lunch at Dynasty, one of the city's of-the-moment restaurants. Chef Tam Sek Lun laid out his dim sum made with a special rice dough around scallops, caviar and other unusual fillings. Crusty roast suckling pig with melon balls rounded out the meal. "I like to take traditional Chinese dishes and do something imaginative with them," he explained. Dinner at the Man Wah, which overlooks Victoria Harbor, was a sumptuous rendition of traditional Chinese favorites.

With Grace To, our keen Hong Kong Tourism Association guide, leading the way, we then made a tour of shopping venues.

Our first stop was a tailor so confidently cool that he goes by his first name only, Sam. Although he keeps shop in a small garret in a mall in Kowloon, Sam, an affable Indian, made no pretense at being just plain folks. Photos of the Prince of Wales, George Bush and other regular customers hung on his walls, between bales of the finest wools from London and silks from Indian. A tailor for more than 35 years, Sam got right to business with a tape measure, pointing out the quirky aspects of my physique that only an experienced tailor knows. One shoulder is slightly bigger than the other, the stomach was an inch over the standard waist measurement for a man of my height, and so on.

By the end of an hour, he had outfitted me in a half-dozen shirts, including two of white silk with red monograms. He was to make me two suits as well--one in charcoal gray pin stripes and another in black with a single gold button at the top. "The best people are starting to wear this style instead of standard black tie," Sam assured me. In spite of the rich and famous aura, the prices were reasonable: $300 for each suit and $20 each for the shirts.

We next dropped in at Wah Tung China, one the city's leading porcelain makers, where Secretary of State Madeleine Albright bought vases during a recent trip. Wah Tung specializes in remakes of well-known Chinese designs. The store's warehouse in Aberdeen featured the most dazzling array of porcelain I had ever seen. I chose two deep green vases, two blue-and-white flower-covered tea boxes and a pair of delicate porcelain birdcages like those popular in the 19th century.

Curious about jade, the dark green gemstone revered by Westerners and Chinese alike, I paid a visit to the Hong Kong Jade House Ltd., a jewelry shop in a Kowloon shopping center. Owner Elaine Shek ushered me into a back room for a lecture on all I ever wanted to know about jade, including intriguing tales of how the stones take on the owner's worries.

For a final shopping foray, we hit the Temple Street night market, where imitations of Donna Karan handbags go for $15 and fake Tommy Hilfiger rugby shirts can be had for a third of that. At a place like this, a smart shopper can take care of a year's Christmas obligations. I left with a shopping bag full of "designer" pens, wallets, chopsticks and other items too cheap to pass up.

Sunday is a day when all of Hong Kong takes a deep breath, and we were glad to follow suit. Before the sun rose, we set off for Wong Tai Sin Temple, a popular place for Buddhists to worship. It was an airy compound with several shrines, a Confucian wall and two Chinese gardens complete with jade-colored ponds. But it was the main shrine, a Buddhist statue dedicated to a shepherd boy who was said to have magic powers, that seized my attention. In the early morning fog, its gold-covered facade glistened, as if to say that it was not to be overlooked. As I stared at it, a crowd of at least a thousand Chinese lay down before it in silent prayer.

That afternoon we took a 40-minute ferry ride to Lamma, one of the sparsely populated corners of the city. There we had a simple lunch of fresh fish cooked in garlic and fried rice, and set out for a two-hour hike through the woods. Although only a boat ride away from the chaos of downtown Hong Kong, the serenity seemed to put us in another world.

A few carefree days in Hong Kong's fast lane made it easy to forget that trendy dance clubs and all, the city is now part of the communist world. Except for the occasional sentry of People's Army soldiers stationed before government buildings, there were no visible signs that Beijing's reach extends into Hong Kong's streets or the everyday lives of locals. Every resident I met insisted that the changeover had done nothing to cramp their style. "As far as I am concerned, it's all business as usual here," Shek, the jeweler, had told me. "Not a thing has changed."

Indeed, many corners of the city maintain the atmosphere of a far-flung British outpost. High tea is still served at 4 every afternoon in the posh lobby of the Peninsula and Regent hotels, among other places. And along Salisbury Road, the staunch Savile Row look seems like standard wear. English, a requirement in Hong Kong schools, is spoken with a decidedly British edge.

As I witnessed during the Tiananmen Square demonstration in Victoria Park, however, it was clear to me that something had changed. In a country where most residents still drop into whispers when speaking of the 1989 incident, the demonstration was a bold statement that the Hong Kongese were willing to stand up for free speech and against injustice. To be able do so as part of China proper suggested a new role for the area and its residents. Exiled Chinese dissident Wei Jingsheng, appearing in pouring rain before the cheering crowd, put it best: "Hong Kong will be the bedrock of the democratic movement in China."

Flying into Shanghai, two hours away, it was easy to think that my Dragonair jet had mistakenly returned to its gate of departure. With skyscrapers jutting up everywhere and the Huangpu River snaking through it, the city of 13.4 million had a very Hong Kong look about it.

But on the ground, it's clear that Shanghai is the less glamourous of the two siblings. Although the street life moved at a quick pace, the fashions were a bit plainer, the faces less cheerful and the mobile phones not as ubiquitous. In contrast to Hong Kong, which is laced with parks, green spaces were hard to find.

A closer look, gained through a series of excursions into several Shanghai neighborhoods, revealed even stronger differences. Guided by John Wu, an engineer whom I met by chance, I spent an afternoon walking the streets of Old Shanghai. There I saw rows of tenement buildings where two or more Chinese families share tiny two-room apartments, often without toilets or running water. Later, on the edge of the city, I would see crumbling apartment buildings that housed hundreds of thousands of working poor.

Even closer observation, particularly of the magnificent art deco buildings interspersed through Shanghai's neighborhoods, revealed the city's history.

And what a history. Following the opium wars in the mid-1800s, Shanghai attracted thousands of merchants and traders from France, Britain and America. They staked out sectors of the city and ruled them outside of Chinese law.

With trade booming along the banks of the Huangpu, Shanghai quickly became the New Orleans of Asia, a place where money passed under tables downstairs while opium smoke wafted from windows above. "Shanghai Express," a 1932 film in which Marlene Dietrich plays a classy call girl working the overnight train from Beijing, was more like a PG-rated version of what often transpired in the city's back streets.

But after the 1949 communist revolution, in a bid to rid the city of "imperialist influences," Beijing discouraged Western residency in Shanghai. It was not reopened to Westerners until the mid-1980s.

Since then, American and European and other foreign executives have clamored to stake out a piece of Shanghai, lured by Beijing's grandiose plans to transform it into China's financial center. In the past five years, the population of Americans and other Westerners has skyrocketed. In the past decade, the number of high-rises has mushroomed to more than 1,000. Pudong, until recently an underdeveloped neighborhood of barren parking lots and low-rises on the wrong side of the Huangpu, is gradually taking on the look of an Asian Wall Street.

The growing expatriate community, coupled with a burgeoning, home-grown entrepreneurial class, is inspiring a renewed interest in the city's glamorous past. I explored the historic haunts of the city with all the gusto of a first-time visitor, tromping from the illustrious Peace Hotel, where Noel Coward wrote "Private Lives," to the magnificent stretch of European-designed buildings along the Bund, the popular promenade along the river.

After visits to Shanghai's key cultural sights, it was easy to see that the city also has a future--as the centerpiece of Chinese culture. My first outing was the Shanghai Museum, home to one of the world's largest collections of Chinese painting and ceramics. Here was one room full of bronze statues stretching over several dynasties. Another featured a exhibition of fabrics gathered from along the Silk Road. There were 2,000-year-old vases, jade jewelry by the case full and furniture from the Ming and Qing dynasties. During a three-hour tour, I saw only half of the museum's 11 galleries.

After the museum, I hopped a taxi for the 20-minute ride to the Jade Buddha Temple. No guidebook or description could prepare a first-time visitor for the majesty of this shrine. The main feature, a 6 1/2-foot Buddha carved from a single piece of white Burmese jade, is stunning. But the temple has several other Buddhas, statues and shrines, all of which combine to make this an important pilgrimage destination for Chinese. In an hour stay, I found myself beaming with inspiration.

Yuyuan, the gardens where I spent the following afternoon, is considered one of the city's key sights. The 400-year-old gardens, centered on a 19th-century floating tea house with solid wooden tables full of tourists, would have been respite enough. But then the surrounding bazaar, with its stalls selling everything from silk ties to antique opium pipes, turned out to be one of the city's best places for souvenirs.

Nightfall offered the chance to see a whole different Shanghai. One of my favorite distractions was the Shanghai Acrobatic Troupe, whose members can bend and twist into dimensions that even Ripley would not believe. One highlight was a human ladder eight persons high, built by performers placing chairs on the heads of one another and standing on them. Another was of a young woman of five feet or so who folded herself into a three-foot high barrel until she disappeared. The evening was easily worth the $10 admission.

Park 97, a new restaurant and club, is a must for trend-seekers. In a city full of loud and crowded venues, I was struck by the soothing atmosphere, enhanced by soft orange lights, and the stunning staff of waiters and waitresses. The food is a melange of Chinese and Western dishes; Shanghainese noodles in a spicy Italian tomato sauce is a big hit among the expatriates and Chuppies who gather nightly.

I also spent a memorable evening at 31, a restaurant reminiscent of Shanghai's heyday in the 1930s. It is a speakeasy of a place, with low lights and soft music, where waitresses wear tight red silk dresses and the clients sip on oolong or Chinese beer and eat spicy shrimp.

One restless night, I dropped into the Golden Age, a sultry joint where the clientele was mostly Western business executivess. The waitresses, who could have filled the pages of Asian Vogue, sit and drink with the customers. This was a three-martini place if I ever saw one. I sipped one and slipped out before the hour became too bewitching.

Although very few Shanghainese seem to understand English, I found it was easy enough to get around without much Chinese. After planning a day's itinerary, I asked the hotel concierge to write a note with the address of each destination. I gave the notes to drivers each time I climbed in a taxi. Menus in the better restaurants are often printed in English as well as Chinese.

One afternoon I went looking for antique masks, silk ties and other souvenirs in the popular open-air bazaar surrounding Yuyuan. When it was clear that I spoke only guidebook Chinese, the merchants reached for their pocket calculators and I pulled out mine. And thus, without the exchange of a single word, we haggled our way to prices we could both live with.

Even after I became comfortable with the city, I did not feel the presence of Big Brother, as I had experienced during four years of living in Soviet Russia. As far as I know, no security agent followed me through the city's streets. No anxious expressions came across the faces of my Chinese interlocutors.

When I did notice signs of the "other system," they were subtle. Upkeep of public buildings, usually far better in the West, seemed sorely lacking. The inability of locals to travel was also glaring. "We have no hope of ever going to Hong Kong, let alone Paris," Wu, my engineer friend, complained. Above all, locals lamented the absence of money. The average salary in Shanghai amounts to about $100 a month, according to Western estimates. In other areas of China, income is far less.

A few of my Shanghainese acquaintances complained of even harsher realities: of occasional raids by police in which they were warned against yielding to the temptation of "bourgeois culture"; of cadres in the workplace who made sure no one steps over the line with harsh criticisms of the Beijing government or other uncomradely acts. "Sometimes the eyes of the police are looking elsewhere, and sometimes they're looking right at us," said a department store clerk.

"This is China, after all."

Details: Exploring Shanghai and Hong Kong

Immigration in Hong Kong requires all U.S. travelers to have a valid passport. A visa, obtainable from the Embassy of China (202-338-6688 for information) for $30, is necessary for visits to Shanghai or anywhere else in mainland China. I organized stays in both cities on my own without trouble, but first-time visitors to China may prefer to seek the assistance of a travel agent. All prices below are quoted in U.S. dollars.

Getting There: I flew to Hong Kong on Cathay Pacific, which is offering a month-long pass that allows stops in 16 cities throughout Southeast Asia for $999. Since Shanghai is not included on the pass, I bought a supplementary ticket on Dragonair, a Cathay Pacific affiliate. The round-trip fare from Hong Kong was $350.

Shanghai

Where to Stay: I chose the Portman Ritz-Carlton (1376 Nanjing Xi Lu, 1-800-241-3333), a new hotel that's offering a special rate of $165 a night for doubles. The health club, service and other amenities in this 50-story building are extraordinary.

Although its rooms are nothing special, the Peace Hotel (20 Nanjing Dong Lu, telephone 011-86-21- 6321-6888), a historic art deco institution near the Bund and the Huangpu River, is as good a place as any to soak up the ambiance of Old Shanghai. Standard twin rooms go for $160. The Ruijin Guesthouse (118 Ruijin Er Lu, 011-86-21-6472-5222), sitting on a green lawn, offers the chance to enjoy a little nature away from the city bustle. The 47 rooms are in small guest houses and the staff is personable. Doubles are $179.

Where to Eat: Park 97 (Fuxing Gongyuan, 2 Gaolan Lu) is Shanghai's premier see-and-be-seen dining place, even if the ambiance is the sleek and contemporary kind you can find anywhere. The owners are from Hong Kong and have several restaurants there. The food is good and cocktails flow like water. Try the tartar of salmon and sea scallops! Dinner for two runs about $65.

Meilongzhen (1081 Nanjing Xi Lu), a Shanghai institution, is a good place to sample local fare such as Shanghainese noodles and broiled fish dishes. It offers some offbeat dishes, too, such as duck's tongue. The atmosphere is a bit touristy, but the food is reliable. Dinner for two costs about $50.

1221 (1221 Yanan Xi Lu) draws a crowd of hip locals and expatriates. It features decent Shanghainese food in a light, boutique atmosphere. It's also easy on the pocketbook. I dined alone, and the waiter quickly gave me copies of GQ and Sports Illustrated to read. I had a great dinner of steamed Chinese broccoli, Shanghainese stuff duck and fried rice for $18.

What to Do: The Shanghai Acrobatic Troupe appears in the Shanghai Theatre Center, the same complex that houses the Ritz-Carlton. Call 011-86-21-6279 8663 to reserve tickets.

The Shanghai Museum (201 Renmin Da Dao) has an impressive collection of Chinese paintings, ceramics and other art. Admission is $3. People's Square, located next door, is a great place for people-watching.

Yuyuan, the gardens on the itinerary of every visitor to the city, is a good place for soaking up atmosphere, drinking tea and stocking up on souvenirs. All taxi drivers will know how to find it.

The Jade Buddha Temple (170 Anyuan Lu) is worth the required taxi ride. Count on spending an hour or two absorbing the karma of the Buddha and other sights. Admission is $1.50.

Although the Shanghai History Museum (1286 Hongqiao Lu) is tucked in an obscure corner of the city, a tour of it provides an excellent feel for the city's glamorous days before 1949.

Information: Embassy of China, 202-328-2500; China National Tourist Office, 212-760-9700, http://www.travelfile.com/get/chinanto.html.

Hong Kong

Where to Stay: A tourism slump has brought sharp cuts in hotel rates. Travel agents specializing in the city are offering some good package deals.

I stayed at the Mandarin Oriental (5 Connaught Rd., 1-800-526-6566, one of the world's classiest hotels. Its Hong Kong location, right next to Victoria harbor, is first-rate and so are the service and Asian decor in the lobby and rooms. This is a place more suitable for a honeymoon or special occasion than a general vacation. However, discounted room rates, prompted by the economic slump, make rooms at this five-star property more affordable than ever. Doubles, with breakfast for two, are going for $232 a night.

For budget travelers, the Salisbury YMCA (41 Salisbury Rd., 011-852-2369-2211) has doubles for $110. Far more stylish than a typical Y, it has spacious rooms and is located next door to the knock-your-socks-off Peninsula, where you can go for afternoon tea or just hanging out.

The Kowloon (19-21 Nathan Rd., 011-852-2369-8698) is a good compromise on price and luxury. It's in a great location, in the fashionable Tsim Sha Tsui neighborhood of Kowloon and has good rooms with all the amenities. Doubles are going for $140.

Where to Eat: The City Hall Chinese Restaurant, the second-floor restaurant of Hong Kong's city hall, which is located next to the Star Ferry station in Victoria Harbor, was my favorite venue for dim sum and other traditional Chinese lunch specialties. To beat the crowd, I suggest arriving before noon. A sumptuous midday meal for two costs about $55.

Dynasty (1 Harbour Rd., in the New World Renaissance Hotel), one of the city's acclaimed restaurants, is a great place to get a taste for some of the new trends in Chinese cuisine in this food-loving city. The steamed rice in clay pot dishes are great.

Luk Yu Teahouse (24-26 Stanley St.) is an old-fashioned Hong Kong institution specializing in dim sum. With its wood paneling and grand ambiance, Luk Yu is the place to go for a leisurely breakfast or tea. For two, the tally comes to about $28.

Bodhi Vegetarian (56 Cameron Rd.), part of a chain, has good dishes made from tofu, noodles, rice and everything else except meat. The atmosphere and service were a bit cold but it did not stop me from enjoying a tasty lunch of spicy noodles, vegetable soup and a green salad for $12.

What to Do: For shopping, Sam's Tailors (94 Nathan Rd.) is one of the most reputable in Hong Kong. He can have outfits delivered to your hotel by the end of a week's stay or have them shipped to you at home. His prices for suits range from $300 to 600; my choices, at the lower end of the range, were plenty stylish.

Wah Tung China Limited is a good answer to all of your porcelain needs. Prices are reasonable and can probably be negotiated. Call for directions to the excellently stocked Aberdeen warehouse (011-852-2873-2272).

The Temple Street Market, located on Kowloon near the Jordan metro station, is great for buying souvenirs or imitation designer clothes and accessories.

Two excursions also give a good feel for the vast sweep of the city and particularly its green spaces. One is to take a cable car to Victoria Peak, a 1,800-foot incline, which offers a grand view. The Peak Galleria and Peak Tower has lots of little boutiques and restaurants.

For a hike, take the Star ferry from Hong Kong island to Lamma Island. It costs about $2 each way and takes 45 minutes. There is a three-hour walking trail that takes you from one end of the island to the other. You can hop a ferry back from either end, but first try the fresh fish at one of the small restaurants located near both harbors.

Wong Tai Sin Temple (Wong Tai Sin Road and Nga Chuk Street), a 15-minute taxi ride away from downtown Kowloon island, is a must. It's most serene early on weekday mornings, before the crowds arrive. There are lots of fortune tellers and stands selling knickknacks.

Information: Hong Kong Tourism Association, 1-800-282-4582, http://www.hkta.org.