In order to appreciate the view, one must climb. This necessity sometimes eludes those who seem unable to grasp the basics: that enlightenment can only be achieved when one step is placed above another.
There is a sweet spot to be found in the middle of the shallow bay at the end of Ko Tong Hau (Long Harbour). It receives the chilled waters that pass through the forest-reclaimed farmland in the valleys of Ko Tong and Ko Tong Ha Yeung, and the river that sometimes violently cascades between rocks down to Tai Tan. The mudflats of this bay are so enriched with regular deposits of silt and vegetatable detritus, that abundant wildlife will feed upon it – from stinking methane-producing bacteria to crabs, molluscs and fish. As such, the sand beyond is liberally inhabited with sharp-shelled filter-feeding oysters, and footwear is essential. The sand shelf drops away at about one hundred metres allowing for the welcoming embrace of cooler deep waters and at high tide an undisturbed lazy float midpoint between the forested shores. It is here at this point, this sweet spot, that the fire look-out atop Lo Fu Kei Shek can be best appreciated. And from sea level it appears small and easy – paltry, even.
But what the eye cannot see from salt waters is the view, what can barely be imagined are the gentle coastal breezes, what cannot be experienced is the peace.
To ascend takes three forms: using the tarmacked Hoi Ha Road, up the river valley that winds beside the Tai Tan river and the long way through the bamboo and underbrush to the sand ridge resplendent with trees. Each has its character and proper feel, the first being for marchers, the second for observers and the third for those who seek encounters.
The Hoi Ha Road is characterised by a slow ascent between overhanging trees. Being in the gated country park, there is minimal vehicular traffic apart from the regular green minibus and the thundering convoys of coaches that take tourists to Hoi Ha to dip their toes in the warm waters. It is a good running road with many little detours available to extend regular exercise into something better.
The Tai Tan river track is stepped and rocky, sometimes awkwardly so, but twists and turns beautifully past steep ravines, beside the old walls of abandoned rice fields and beneath a majestic outcrop of red pines. From time to time wild boar rush across the path, and docile feral cows munch their way along its length. The track meets the road between the bridge and the helipad.
The long way up past the graves and through the bamboo is somewhat challenging, but the isolation is paramount, especially at the top point where the trees offer shade and an excuse to sit and watch the boats arrive and leave Wong Shek Pier below. It is then a case of following the nose until the path returns to Hoi Ha Road opposite the next stage of the journey.
However the route thus far, the next step will be a little more physically demanding. The signpost for the fire lookout indicates a zigzag path that rises rapidly onto Lo Fu Kei Shek hillside. By the time all the puffing and panting is over, and just as the hill seems not so paltry, this section will have levelled out. It then branches to the right and leads directly to the lookout above.
The lookout serves to warn of imminent fire threat in the dry winter season when it is often manned: surely a lonesome occupation. But it is precisely this seclusion that the many lonely walkers seek. On the shelf that is the viewing platform, the viewer can see far on all sides; directly beneath is the traditional village of Pak Sha O, the threatened jewel, on the opposite side is the road back to Sai Kung and civilization and the nestled villages along its length. The mountains of Ngau Ye Shek Shan, Mount Hallowes and Sharp Peak surround; further afield is Hoi Ha harbour and beyond are the shining sunset waters of Plover Clove reservoir in Tai Po. On a good day far one can see far into the smoky hills of Guangdong and coastal China.
Ceylon Blue Glassy Tiger butterflies abound all year bar winter, black kites superbly circle high above and on those terrible humid days emperor dragonflies display and hunt in the air around. In spring purple cat-tail bean flowers spike their beautiful displays in the long grass and forever on the wind is the scent of resins, spores, pollens and white camellia flowers that abound since the ancient time tea was tended upon the slopes.
The effort of taking those steps to the silent top are always rewarded. Each time aloft the rest of the world is suspended, the spirit is unguarded and the dreaded inner chatter of daily cares and concerns stills to a whisper. But there is, of course, no water to be found here. So every visit must marry the supplies brought along. It is always with heart-felt longing that departure is made. Then the only question is which path to use to return home.
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