My first visit to Hong Kong was more by accident than choice -- a stop-over en-route to an Australian roadtrip after graduating from university.   Like any other tourist, I was captivated by the colours, the noises, the scents and tastes of this East-meets-West megalopolis.

“What if I knew that I’d never see it again?”

My next visit was to witness history: the handover of what was until then a British Crown colony to the People's Republic of China.  And with the exception of the times during the SARS and COVID pandemics, I have been back almost every year since, often multiple times per year: for family events, friends, work, as a holiday, or -- occasionally -- on another stop-over on my way to/from Down Under.  I have long ago stopped being a tourist but I will never be a local, although I feel more comfortable here than most places that I've lived at over the years.

Thirty years have passed since that first stop-over.  Nationalities, passports, have changed.  The city has grown, a new airport, new underground lines, new skyscrapers and malls have been built.  Births and weddings have been replaced by 80th birthday celebrations, last visits, funerals.  The joy of immersing myself in the city, exploring its islands and villages, uncovering areas apparently forgotten by time, remains as it always was.  “What if I knew that I’d never see it again?” is my record of these past three decades, and my love letter to Hong Kong.

My first visit to Hong Kong was more by accident than choice -- a stop-over en-route to an Australian roadtrip after graduating from university.   Like any other tourist, I was captivated by the colours, the noises, the scents and tastes of this East-meets-West megalopolis.

My next visit was to witness history: the handover of what was until then a British Crown colony to the People's Republic of China.  And with the exception of the times during the SARS and COVID pandemics, I have been back almost every year since, often multiple times per year: for family events, friends, work, as a holiday, or -- occasionally -- on another stop-over on my way to/from Down Under.  I have long ago stopped being a tourist but I will never be a local, although I feel more comfortable here than most places that I've lived at over the years.

“What if I knew that I’d never see it again?”

Thirty years have passed since that first stop-over.  Nationalities, passports, have changed.  The city has grown, a new airport, new underground lines, new skyscrapers and malls have been built.  Births and weddings have been replaced by 80th birthday celebrations, last visits, funerals.  The joy of immersing myself in the city, exploring its islands and villages, uncovering areas apparently forgotten by time, remains as it always was.  “What if I knew that I’d never see it again?” is my record of these past three decades, and my love letter to Hong Kong.