I won't say anything about Hong Kong drivers in Kowloon versus their
counterparts on the mainland or in the United States mostly because
any opinions I can form regarding their tendency to honk or suddenly
be where I felt they shouldn't be must be mitigated by my tendency to
forget which side of the road I was supposed to be on, drift in
strange patterns when trying this merge right thing, and to make
unpredictable sudden moves that weren't correct for the traffic
pattern.
I will however say that riding in Hong Kong is lots nicer than riding
some places in Asia.
Such as, for starters, their insistence that bikes belong in the road
rather than on the sidewalk or segregated off onto some poorly
maintained so-called "bike road" replete with pedestrians, vendors,
trees, parked cars, and the occasional bus stop.
I was [censored] at Mainland China -before- I got the traffic ticket
this morning in Shenzhen. Issued to me by a cop whose 125 cc
motorcycle couldn't keep up with me and who was required to radio
ahead to the next traffic light for support to stop me. I admit what
with his being a motorcycle and my having luggage (but an ever so
slight downhill and tailwind) I couldn't have kept up the 40kph
pretense of ignoring him for very long but the motorcycle riding
[censored] had to RADIO AHEAD due to his motor vehicle's inability to
catch me and then issued me a traffic ticket for having the audacity
to ride with the motor vehicles instead of on the sidewalk (not bike
lane, sidewalk) where I -belonged-.
Rant over.
This is my third time in Hong Kong and unless I learn Cantonese and
traditional characters I will never really be comfortable here. Just
as the drivers who honked weren't responsible for my suddenly
realizing that the right side of the road is the fast lane so too this
city isn't responsible for my learning a language and a writing form
that are oh so almost but not quite what they use.
Except for that little bit at the train station where I had to take my
front wheel off (thus turning my bike into allowable luggage) this
city has really been exceptionally civilized regarding my trusty
steed. Not that I've actually tried to take it into many places. But
there is always a sort of lingering hostility from guards and
reception people in China that I can't say I'd actually noticed the
presence of before so much so as actively noticing the absence of
here.
I'd just left the travel agency that was dealing with my visa problem
and was swinging one leg over my bike when a cop politely chided me
and explained that this was a footpath as in a path for feet and
wheels belonged on the road. The cop in Shenzhen lectured me. Kept
lecturing me even after I said sorry. Insisted that it was for my
safety. Sounded like a constipated grandmother whining about
offspring she never sees. This officer chided me in a cooly
refreshing and offhanded polite manner.
With my only actual business now completed I went forth in search of a
hotel and a bike shop. The first having been found I quickly located
the second by way of a telephone book. The British did many great
things for this city and in the ten years since the handover some of
those great things have stuck around. Like English language telephone
books.
Flying Ball Bike Shop. Since 1940. Voted Best Bike Shop in Asia.
Don't know who did the voting but it sure was a nice shop. Shame
about my not having any need to buy anything. And about their picture
on the wall of the women's podium at the Guangzhou Bikers' Festival
showing 5 1/2 women with me being the sixth place half cut off by the
frame.
All sorts of lovely goodies that I had absolutely no use for in
current circumstances. I manufactured a need for a English language
cycling magazine and bought a kid sized yellow jersey for Fearless
Leader's 5 year old. At the aforementioned GZ event he entered and
won the 6-9 category and the bestest famous person he ever met was Pat
McQuaid. Mostly I aternated my time between lurking and drooling
before finally admitting that there wasn't a single thing there that I
needed or wanted (that's the logistical practical definition of want)
and heading out.
I'm a sad sack whose next stop was also a bike shop. It wasn't really
on purpose mind you. But when my roundabout (I wasn't lost merely
taking the scenic route) way back to my hotel landed me near the
directions to the second bike shop that advertised English speaking
staff ... well... lets just say that I really am that pathetic in that
all I could find to do in an afternoon in Hong Kong was visit two bike
shops.
The next one (whose name I don't remember) was more of a wholesale
sort of place. Best find was left unbought because that is for the
post race bike project and I will not start buying parts for that
now. Besides which I've only got the one pannier with me and no room
for bike parts. Found a great present for the other kid (nicknamed
Little Tiger) in the club (bike horn shaped like a tiger) but it came
attached to a tiger motifed bike and they weren't willing to part with
it unless I bought the bike (nahhh...)
Eventually found my way back to the hotel put my bike in the room and
went to dinner. Indian food. 229 HKD. Ouch. But it was so yummy.
Eaten as I sat alone listening to the live music and reading my copy
of "Cycle Sport."
-M