Getting Lost Keep not standing fixed and rooted. Briskly venture, briskly roam. – Goethe

the plane begins landing preparations and the view from the tiny porthole makes me forget being seated at an angle of 105 degrees in an arid cabin for the last 17 hours. i have seen these sharp misty mountains rising above the gray-green waters in many movies but that pales to the knowledge that i will soon be entering this landscape in the flesh. my first stop is the tram ride up to The Peak but a thick fog has rolled in and the spectacular view of Hong Kong and the harbour is completely blanketed in white. maybe it's a kindness to enter as if in a dream given my jet lagged state. the doubledecker bus ride all the way down is a marvelous testament to the driver's skill. it's too easy to imagine miscalculating one sharp turn and careering off onto the roof of a colonial estate just below. next i take the Star Ferry to Tsim Sha Tsui. me – now part of the millions and millions that have made this crossing for the last 110 years. wonderful dim sum at Serenade Chinese Restaurant and then it's off to walk up Nathan's road on the way to the Hong Kong Museum of History. how do i describe what i'm seeing? What strikes me immediately is how patchwork the architecture is. Blade Runner comes to mind. only the dusty decrepit facades and the frantically winking neon signage make me feel a bit sad. not at all like i imagined: everywhere i turn the emulation feels desperate and embarrassed to be chinese. my time at the museum offers an explanation to the energy i pick up on.