one if by land

I've had Longfellow's Paul Revere poem running through my head as of late because several US Marine Corps ships docked here in Hong Kong this weekend. I keep thinking "The Americans are coming! Hang up the lanterns--two if by sea!" My "brethren" as the Brits say, are easy to spot with their identical haircuts and assault packs. I even had the opportunity to assist 4 dashing Marines find a train. Service to my country--it's what I do.

In my 3 most recent days off, I binged and did 3 hikes. The first one was close to home on the Wilson Trail. I like to consider this my backyard:


It's a fairly winding path through these peaks, but fortunately, it is well-marked:

In China, I'm a giant:
The next day, I went to Shek O, the southeastern most part of Hong Kong Island. As per usual for a Monday by the coastline, I saw many brides:

The beach at Shek O is usually crowded, but since people think it's winter, it was nearly empty. When I went for a swim (South China Sea), there was only one other guy out there. I think he was only wearing a Speedo, so I kept a safe distance. I discovered that it's difficult to take photos at a beach without feeling a bit creepy:

In the Shek O village, I found another Tin Hau (Buddhist) Temple:

And this. Let's pause for a moment to admire its subtlety:

After I took the above photo, I walked by the monstrosity and saw many "No Photo" signs attached to it. If you don't want people to take pictures of your house, maybe you could try not painting it bright orange.

During the Shek O hike, the Hong Kong government warned me:

Indeed, I was ware of Big Wave the entire time I was in Shek O.

Finally, Hike 3. Karen heard about an abandoned Hakka fishing village in far north Hong Kong. Hakka means "guest people." Hakka were/are nomadic people. They still exist and live in many different places and countries, but speak a common dialect. For some unknown reason, a group of Hakka suddenly uprooted from a village near Tai Po and left everything behind. Here we are, mid-hike, in high spirits:

After only a few minor detours, we found the village, guarded only by a scary dog:

When Karen said "abandoned fishing village," I assumed she meant it was abandoned hundreds of years ago. Nay. These people probably left during the Reagan administration, though I doubt there is a connection. I saw the expected fishing gear, but also photo albums, cans of food in the refrigerator, clothes, cookware...even an old Playboy-ish magazine in one house. It was all absolutely and amazingly bizarre.