Hong Kong and I had a strange relationship for a long time.
I knew the airport better than I knew the city. The wonton noodle soup near the transit hotel. Which immigration queue moves fastest. That kind of familiarity, the kind that isn’t really familiarity at all.
For years, it was just a stopover. Sydney to somewhere. I’d seen the surrounding landscape from the windows or the airport to feel like I knew it.
But honestly, I didn’t.
Until Work Made Me Stay
I finally spent some time there. A few days here and there for meetings. Mornings accounted for, the rest loosely mine. It wasn’t a holiday. But it was the first time Hong Kong and I actually had a chance to really experience it. And I loved it.
The timing was interesting. A monsoon had been tracking towards the city and it was bracing for it. That particular kind of pre-storm atmosphere where the air feels thick with humidity and the light goes strange and everyone keeps one eye on the sky. It never hit us directly. It skirted south at the last minute and left the city with this bruised, dramatic sky and a humidity you could wear. As a photographer, I wasn’t (mostly) complaining. That light was extraordinary. Reminded me of the skies we’d get rolling in off the Andaman Sea when we were up in Krabi, that same feeling of weather with intent.
I had a list. Of course I had a list. But I abandoned it pretty quickly, which for me is saying something. I let the juxtaposition of east meets west wash over me.
I just walked. Along the Tsim Sha Tsui waterfront as the sun went down under a sky that couldn’t decide what colour it wanted to be. Crossed on the Star Ferry for HK$2.70, which honestly felt like I cheated someone. Ended up in a cha chaan teng, one of those local milk tea cafés, pointed at what the person next to me was having, and called it dinner. No English menu. No TripAdvisor. But it was what I needed (wanted?) in the moment.
None of that was on the list.
East Meets West
This is the thing about Hong Kong that I didn’t expect, even after passing through it for years. It doesn’t feel like a choice between two worlds. It feels like both of them decided to just get on with it.
You walk past a colonial-era building and there’s a bamboo scaffold going up around it. A Buddhist temple sits at the base of a glass tower. A dai pai dong street stall operates ten metres from a Michelin-starred restaurant. The double-decker trams that have been running since 1904 share the road with everything modern and loud. And somehow, none of it feels like a contradiction. It just feels like Hong Kong.
I’ve spent time in cities that lean hard into one identity. Singapore is immaculate and deliberate, every edge considered. Tokyo is its own universe entirely, a city so committed to doing things its own way that you stop questioning it and just follow along. But Hong Kong has this layered quality, like it accumulated rather than planned. History and ambition and chaos and tradition, all stacked on top of each other going vertical because there was nowhere else to go.
It reminded me, oddly, of wandering the Christmas Markets in Europe. That same sense of old and new pressed right up against each other. Centuries of history with a Glühwein stand in front of it. Hong Kong does the same thing, just louder and with better food.
That tension is what makes it interesting to photograph. The frame is never simple. There’s always something unexpected in it.
What It Feels Like
Hong Kong moves fast. Faster than Singapore, which I thought was the ceiling. The MTR, the food, the people, everything has a momentum to it. And because the city lets you move fast, most people do.
I always had.
Slow it down, though, and something shifts. The wet market in Mong Kok still running at 10pm. The old residential blocks in Sham Shui Po stacked so high the sky becomes a thin strip above you. The harbour at night, one of those views that makes you feel briefly, properly small.
As a photographer, that harbour is something else. The skyline reflected in the water, the Star Ferry cutting through the frame, the pre-storm light doing things I hadn’t planned for and couldn’t have. I stood there longer than made sense. Missed dinner reservations I’d made and didn’t care. It’s the kind of stillness I usually have to go to Bondi at sunrise to find, that feeling of being completely present without trying to be.
The Singapore Problem
I flew back to Singapore a few days later for work and something felt off. Singapore is a genuinely impressive city. Efficient, beautiful, extraordinarily well run. I’ve always liked it.
But after Hong Kong, it felt quiet in a way I couldn’t quite explain. Not quieter in terms of noise. Just quieter in terms of energy. Like someone had turned a dial down a few notches. I kept waiting for something to surprise me and it didn’t, not because there was anything wrong with Singapore, but because Hong Kong had more energy. More to be found or explored. It was edgy.
I felt a bit guilty about it, honestly. Singapore hadn’t changed. But I had, slightly, in the space of four days. That’s the thing about Hong Kong. It gets into your system.
The Thing About Passing Through
I think a lot of us carry false confidence about places we’ve transited. The stamp in the passport, a few strong opinions about the skyline, knowing which terminal has the good food. It feels like knowing somewhere.
It isn’t.
Hong Kong sat in that column for me for years. And it took being stuck there, tired, not particularly looking for anything, to actually arrive. Same as Krabi, in a way. The best version of that trip wasn’t in the itinerary either.
The Star Ferry at dusk under a monsoon sky that never quite arrived. An hour watching the harbour change as the light dropped. None of it planned. All of it still with me.
To be honest, I still haven’t done Hong Kong properly. It has changed even since I’ve been there, but at least I’ve had a chance to see what all the hype was about.
Suggested Spots if You Have a Camera and a Few Hours:
- Tsim Sha Tsui Promenade: Walk it at golden hour, stay for the light show. Worth every cliché.
- Star Ferry crossing: HK$2.70. Best value view in Asia. Shoot from the front of the upper deck.
- Sham Shui Po: Neon, texture, life. Go without a shot list and see what finds you.
- Mong Kok at night: The wet market, the street stalls, the density. A photographer’s chaos in the best way.
- Pro Tip: The harbour from the Kowloon side at blue hour, just after sunset, is the shot. Tripod. Patience. Worth it.
