bc magazine, hong kong

backside

Roy, designer I think it’s a little bit of both. Actually, the philosophies of feng shui contain some science. It makes sense sometimes when using it for designing stores.	Christina, marketer It’s a combination of both. I watched a television programme about that. They will consider angles and directions when they design the building. They use traditional wisdom.	Annie, student It’s superstition. I don’t believe it. I’m not a superstitious person.	Ada, marketer It’s a science. Some of my friends and elder relatives believe in feng shui and it’s proven to be quite effective and also realistic.	Niall, data analyst I’d hope it’s superstitious rather than science, because I don’t want a dragon coming up at my jacksy when I’m on the toilet – especially after a heavy night. He’s going to be fairly pissed off.

Lokfu station itself doesn’t hold too much charm, but head toward Junction Road for some gems. Hau Wong temple’s impressive red brickwork peeps through the leafy terrain on the hillside opposite. Take the trail for a closer inspection or follow the road signs toward Kowloon Walled City Park, about five minutes away. The historical site was originally a fort housing Qing forces, before its deterioration into a slum city. Blooming now, with an array of flora, the park’s peacefulness denies its dubious past and the frenzied streets surrounding. That manic grid holds a few surprises of its own – a local Thai contingent supply authentic South East Asian recipes in a number of restaurants, while locals head up the competition with superb beef noodles. We delighted in giant garlic fried mussels at Wing Chun (5 – 9, Fuk Lo Tsun Rd, 2383 0991) for lunch, and then nipped next door for a big bowl of peppery noodles at dinner (Big Wife Noodles, Fuk Lo Tsun Rd, 2718 2889). Manners (15 Fuk Lo Tsun Rd, 2382 2863), a Thai massage parlour, was the most unexpected but most appreciated find. Standing out against other dusty facades, it’s a slick polished place. Inside it’s like being transported to a calm beachside resort. A stream trickles through the central hallway, and stairs lead upstairs to dusky rooms decked out in gauzy curtains and embroidered low-slung beds. Traditional massages get the blood pumping (expect contortions), or try a blend of exotic oils for relaxation. It’s a short ride from Kowloon Tong or Homantin, but completely worth a rail trek for those living further afield.

The find: A week-old half-eggplant Original asking price: $3.50 Final price: Stomach ache Where found: Bottom of Hamish’s fridge Of all the nooks and crannies to be explored in Hong Kong in search of hidden treasures, nothing offers up such bounty as the bottom of the fridge. Once home to vibrant, fresh vegetables – vegetables that spoke of hope and health, life and love – the cold area below the bottom shelf of my chill box has now turned into a veritable vege catacomb. It is there that so many bunches of choy sum have wilted to whimpering whispers of their former selves; there that so many clutches of spinach have disintegrated into frostbitten flaccidity, neglected by a scornful master too easily tempted by the alluring convenience of their pre-chopped frozen cousins. Rarely does such greenery enter my fridge and make it out alive within the month. And so it was with considerable delight that, beneath a detritus of leafy morsels of indeterminate identity, I uncovered a forgotten week-old half-eggplant, begging to be eaten. It was floppy, it was dry, and it was browning – but it was there. And it went very nicely with my stir-fry.