Stanley Market

To say my family enjoyed a change in life-style in 1975 would be an almost immeasurable understatement. Both of my folks came from working class families, although my dad's job in a bank and the fact they had a mortgage would have already reclassified them*.

However, our move to Hong Kong saw us elevated to a whole new world, one where, to all intents and purposes, everything was free. It was a world of swimming pools and barbecues, boat trips and restaurants, sunshine and freedom. 

There were virtually no houses on the island, yet the bank owned a terrace of twelve on Mount Kellett, interleaved so that every other house went downstairs to bed, and that we had huge bedrooms as they extended above or below next door's living and dining rooms. 

This morning, Wol and I took the tram back up to the Peak and ran 'round to Mount Kellett, laughing at how short all of the distances were compared with our memories. Homestead Road, which I remember trudging along after school, is perhaps a couple of hundred metres long. 

My first Extra features Wol at the foot of our drive. I wasn't sure about going up but in an unusual reversal of roles, he said there was nothing to worry about and that we should go up. 

It's all changed, of course, although that high wall to the right of my second Extra is just the same. The caretaker came over to see what we were up to and I mentioned that we had lived here in the mid-seventies. "Ah, it was owned by Standard Chartered Bank, then" he said, and we excitedly confirmed that that was who our dad had worked for.

After that, we jogged along Mount Kellett road to the Peak School, where we both went to primary school. I'm not sure whether to be surprised that that was just as I remembered it or not: who rebuilds a primary school? The only major difference was that the playground was completely covered, which made a lot of sense!

After that we ran down Peak Road to Guildford Road, where there is a block of apartments called Villa Verde. When we first arrived in Hong Kong, we lived in a hotel - the Lee Gardens - for six weeks, then spent a little while here, before we moved up to Mount Kellett. I did my first ever long run in the small garden at Villa Verde, going 'round it fifty times, although I can't remember why!

From there we went up Barker Road and then down Chatham Path, through Hong Kong Park and back to the hotel to shower, before going back to The Coffee Academics for a late but well-earned breakfast. 

In the afternoon, we took the bus out to Stanley Market, a place which features strongly in my memories of Hong Kong. I don't have any strong feeling of how often we went there, but I used to enjoy walking around the stalls, agonising over how to spend my pocket money.

It's certainly a lot smarted than it used to be, but, really, it hasn't changed that much in fifty years, although there's certainly a lot more art and higher end goods.
 
After a very pleasant hour or so, just mooching around, we took shelter in a nearby bar from a sudden and very impressive rainstorm, which lasted for ages. It was so lovely, sitting there, sipping a beer, looking out of the open window at the sea through the pouring rain. 

Wol hasn't slept so well these last two nights, and wasn't in the mood for a Chinese meal, so he went back to the hotel when we retuned to Wan Chai, while the Minx and I had a couple of drinks at a great little place called Bar 109 before finding ourselves a terrific place to eat: Yung’s Tangerine Peel Roast Goose Restaurant! The food was rich and wonderful, although I had beef rather than goose.

After that, Wol came out and found a MacDonalds, and then the three of us went back to Bar 109 for a very pleasant end to a splendid day. 

*Come the revolution, all this social classification will be unnecessary, so hopefully future readers will have no idea what I'm talking about.