Hong Kong

The only time that Hong Kong seems to slow down is onboard the Star Ferry.

Seemingly untroubled by modernity and oblivious to urban impatience, it churns across the harbour at a pace from an altogether different period, and there is nothing I can do except to take a Boomerang to record this anachronism for posterity.

It is the end of a frenetic week spent insulated high up in corporate eyries among a bevy of peers, and I am glad of the chance to catch a whiff of sea and review my latest visit to this always engaging city.

There were mornings that began by milling in an anonymous cloud of dark-suited, Starbucks-clutching natives that coalesced into being in cold marble lobbies before 9 AM and wafted upward in high-speed lifts, leaving behind faint trails of double espressos.

There was a particularly memorable lunch in Michelin-starred Restaurant Petrus overlooking Victoria Harbour, its neoclassical French interiors offering an incongruous, but altogether pleasing panorama of Victoria Harbour from its lofty location.

There were drinks on the rooftop bar with a dazzling view of that skyline, and there was a nighttime stroll around a quiet neighborhood that felt as though it just recently gentrified, and had yet to catch up to the rest of the city. (It did have a mall that resembled a cruise liner for novelty…)

I catch myself wondering if I like the person I’ve become, the professional who occasionally gets sent on the kind of overseas business trip that involves plenty of actual work, but also fine food, and fine accommodation – a fine trade off, really.

But before I can scrutinize my life choices too intently, the ferry docks at the pier and I join the orderly rush to disembark, just another working girl in a navy dress and heels, blazer on one arm (it is a rather hot summer) and designer handbag on the other (minimum requirement for appearances’ sake), all introspection forgotten in the brisk, purposeful stride back to the hotel.