6/6/24: Hong Kong's Lantau Island: Big, Buddha, Stilt Homes & More!

Steven and I certainly hadn't brought even halfway decent weather with us from Chengdu to Hong Kong, as it was mostly wet and miserable during our time in the stunning metropolis! It didn't deter us from exploring Lantau Island, known as the lungs of Hong Kong, for its abundant forests and the relative lack of skyscrapers omnipresent everywhere else in Hong Kong. Though it's experiencing "manic" development, at 57 square miles and almost twice the size of Hong Kong Island, there is room for the building boom in the green getaway. 

I particularly jump at the opportunity to take cable cars when we travel. That was why I was excited to board the Ngong Ping 360 on Lantau Island, especially after I read that it was described as one of the world's top 10 cable car experiences! Our almost 30-minute journey on the bi-cable ropeway began in Tung Chung, crossed Tung Chung Bay to reach the station on Airport Island, before turning 60 degrees towards North Lantau. 

A view looking back at Yat Tung Estate, a large public housing project located in Tung Chung, Lantau Island:

Tung Chung Town Centre: 

Lucky us, all too soon, we were back in the clouds again. I hope you can detect my sarcasm here!

People younger and in better shape than we are, no doubt relish taking the 7.5-mile strenuous hike to the top of 3,064-ft.-high Lantau Peak, but you couldn't pay me enough to hike that far in this weather.

Nearing the summit at Ngong Ping Village:

Once off the cable car, we were greeted by a row of traditional blessing drums in the mini theme park cum village. The drums, decorated with calligraphy that represents positive virtues, are used during festivals and celebrations to convey wishes for a peaceful and prosperous life.

We'd opted to omit touring the Po Lin Monastery near the village, as it had been described as a "tourist honeypot."

An unusual bathroom sign:

As much fun as the cable car ride had been, the primary reason we'd come to Lantau was to view the seated Tian Tan Buddha statue, known locally as the Big Buddha, as you'll soon see why! An ornate stone archway led to the long set of stairs and the Buddha at the top.

First, however, we had to pass by the statues of the Twelve Divine Generals.

How refreshing seeing something other than shades of gray that day!

Beginning the steep, 268-step climb to one of the largest seated Buddhas in the world:

We noticed that more than a few pilgrims crawled up on their knees, saying prayers at each step.

Looking toward the bottom was our excuse to take a break!

You have to love the Chinese and their fondness for superlatives! Tian Tian is the world's largest Buddha, which is seated, which is located outdoors, AND that is made of bronze. I had to smile, as otherwise, it didn't fit any of those categories!

The silhouette of the mysterious Buddha looked particularly mystical in the fog.

As we ascended to the lower podium, we craned our necks to stare at the 202-ton, 75-feet-high Buddha that was unveiled in 1993. In clear weather, it can be seen from the cable car, from Macau, or while flying into Hong Kong. We hadn't been lucky enough to see it from any of those places!

The Memorial Hall, located inside the base of the Tian Tan Buddha monument, served as a Buddhist memorial site featuring bronze tablets and plaques dedicated to the deceased. 

A huge circular painting in the hall told the life story of Prince Siddhartha, commonly known as the Buddha.

We read a long, unsigned blurb in the hall, stating that the Chinese government had "always upheld the policy of religious freedom for the people and that the right to practice their religion freely was protected by law... Nationalities with different faiths are leading a normal religious life." The information made sure to indicate that the bronze statue's face pointed north, toward the capital of China, so that it could bestow blessings quietly on all living beings on the solemn land of China."

Call me a skeptic, as I had a tough time with the following message, or was it a warning: "... hope that the Buddhist community in Hong Kong, ... will also participate actively in various community services, engage in charitable work ... thus contributing to the steady development of Hong Kong and the reinvigoration of the Chinese nation."

Images from the exterior, possibly from the Wisdom Path:

Our final look at Buddha before the long walk down:

We then hopped on a bus to Tai O, a former major fishing village in western Lantau, known as the Venice of Hong Kong. The bus, which cost the equivalent of a dollar for both of us, was a great way to spend our spare change on our last day in China. Tai O is most famous among tourists for its stilt houses, which were first built by villagers along the waterway more than 200 years ago. The main means of transportation for the residents was sampans. 

The village had a long history - the most prosperous port in the Pearl River Delta was once home to a community of over 20,000 people with 400-500 fishing boats. In addition to fishing, salt production, which began about a thousand years ago during the Sung Dynasty, continued to be harvested until the late 1950s. 

You probably know by now that Steven and I are huge fans of local markets and take every opportunity to visit them. The Tai O street market was no exception.

A large room was devoted to Tai O's historical and cultural artifacts.

The net from the 1940s was made from hemp and used to catch yellow shrimp.

This nylon net was used to catch tai-ao, a rare fish prized for its swimming bladder. Nylon nets replaced hemp nets in the 1960s because they lasted longer and were much cheaper. 

Water wheels were used to transport seawater on the salt farms or to transfer seawater from one salt field to another. 

Our first views of the stilt houses belonging to the Tanka boat people:

More intriguing market views:

The pastries on the middle shelf were labeled wife cakes! I wish I could have asked what they were and if there were any husband cakes.

The footbridge to the pier:

We were fortunate that there were extra seats available on the boat that an English-language tour group had hired.

The guide mentioned that local monks have more time to meditate in this isolated area. They only eat breakfast and dinner, so they can spend the rest of the day reading and in prayer. 

Because there are so few students in Tai O now, as of next year, 2025, there would be only an elementary school and a middle school in the village. Older students would have to go to the "big city" 45 minutes away. 

The guide mentioned that before 1960, many pirates came to Tai O to rob residents. I wonder what happened after that, when it was presumably no longer an issue.

Tai O was made up of five different villages, connected by footbridges. The homes couldn't be sold; they could only be handed down from one generation to the next.

It was interesting to look at the different homes, as some were fairly glamorous, while others were next to a hovel.

The reason we saw so many flags was that there was going to be a dragon boat race the following weekend.

The earliest stilt homes were made of pine bark, palm leaves, and granite pillars quarried on Chek Lap Kok, where Hong Kong's airport is located. During typhoons, they had to be lashed down with rope or risk being washed away in the rising water. 

Many of the homes had ladders descending to boats, the preferred means of transportation in the area. 

Heading out into the South China Sea:

The guide pointed out local gravestones on the hill.

The oldest homes in Tai O were constructed of metal. After a huge fire destroyed much of Tai O in 2000, the government relocated many residents into highrises. Newer homes are constructed of concrete. 

Locals still make most of their money from fishing, not from tourism.

The guide showed us the old police station in the bay, which used to be on the lookout for illegal immigrants trying to swim from China to seek freedom in Lantau Island, Hong Kong. Sadly, most died on the two-day trek because they were attacked by the white dolphins in the bay. 

Not far away was what the guide said was the world's longest bridge, the 104-mile-long Danyang-Kunshan Grand Bridge. It took just three years to build it!

Some of the highrises fire victims had been moved into until the fishing village could be rebuilt:

Built during the reign of Hong Zi in the Ming Dynasty, 1485-1505, Kwan Tai Temple is the oldest temple in Tai O. It was named in honor of a military general renowned for his loyalty. Worshippers believe that he will protect followers from evil spirits. 

After the temple was renovated in the Qing Dynasty, new features included ornate figures atop the roof, which were made in Shiwan, a Chinese town synonymous with pottery. 

In the temple's main hall stood a red-faced Kwan Tai. People of all stripes worship the holy man, including gangsters and members of the disciplinary forces!

Even though the weather gods hadn't been with us, the transportation god was that afternoon! We lucked out in getting a bus with two minutes to spare to the Chung Tung metro station. The downside was that there were no seats for a chunk of the one-hour journey, because other people had occupied the priority seats. 

After a busy half-day taking the metro over to Lantau Island, the cable car ride up to the peak, and schlepping up all the steps to the Big Buddha, we both relished the time to recoup before touring the other places we wanted to see on our last day, not only in Hong Kong but in the country. 

We headed next to the Wan Chai Market, described by food lovers as one of Hong Kong's best wet markets, that is one whch sells fresh vegetables, seafood, meat, etc. It was a great way to experience how locals shop for food on a daily basis. We had no cooking facilities, so it was a feast for our senses, not a splurge for our pocketbooks that day. 

The other reason we'd come to this part of Hong Kong was to explore Stone Nullah Lane, and in particular, the Blue House Cluster, a 4-story structure that was one of the last wood tenement buildings with an iron balcony in the city. 

The iron balconies immediately reminded us of those that are so prevalent in New Orleans.

The ground-floor shop at #72A used to be Kwong Wo Ho Grocery Store, which operated until the 1980s. The storefront originally featured a traditional timber sliding door, which was later converted into a timber-panelled door that extended to the street. The store is now the Hong Kong House of Stories, which promotes multiple cultural events within the community. 

We were happy to enter the old establishment.

The Three Stars of Wealth, Longevity, and Status:

The Blue House, built in the 1920s, has served many functions over the last 100 years, undergone small and large renovations, and witnessed residents and businesses come and go. All this has factored into its history. The quandary has been what should be retained and restored? Is the blue color a must? Should air conditioners be added? What should be done with the adjacent Yellow House? What balance should be struck between honoring the old and making these structures part of the 21st century? Blue House residents organized a press conference in 2006 "to retain both buildings and people."

Yellow protest banners hung before the area's redevelopment because tenement blocks in adjacent streets were being acquired and demolished by force to allow for uniform planning and development. Residents were forced to leave the community they had lived and worked in for years.

Elevators and verandas were added to the Cluster after restoration to connect the Blue, Yellow, and adjacent Orange Houses. The features not only encouraged interaction and communication among residents but also encouraged visitors to admire the building's structure closely and get a sense of the way of life in the Cluster. 

I was frankly amazed not only by the detailed discussion of the protests but also by how freely we were able to wander in the Cluster's open spaces.

The public open space before reconstruction in 2013 and after reconstruction, a year later:

Down the street was Yuk Hui Temple, also known as Pak Tai Temple. It was built by Wan Chai residents in 1862 to worship Pak Tai, a deity associated with the stars of the north and the sea. The main building became a Declared Monument in 2019 because the Daoist temple was renowned for the deity's miraculous powers and attracted worshippers from near and far. The ceramic carvings on the temple roof depicted scenes from Cantonese operas.

We learned that three was the magic number at the temple: clapping of hands three times, three incense sticks, three beats on the drum, and three rings on the bell.

Out back was a traditional Chinese joss paper furnace, used to burn sacrificial paper offerings, a ritual activity for worshiping deities or ancestors.

The temple's Memorial Wall consisted of many small niches that contained plaques, photographs, and names of deceased individuals. 

While Steven and I are accustomed to taking all modes of public transportation as we travel the world independently, riding buses or trams is our least favorite way of getting around. Generally, they are not as fast and, with few English announcements, more challenging. But buses and trams in Hong Kong were half price for adults, so it was cheap to get around, as long as we had the exact fare. 

Taking the double-decker, hot pink tram through Hong Kong's North Point neighborhood to the Chun Yeung Street Market late in the day was a scream, as we turned into a narrow street teeming with market stalls and old tenement buildings. The market was so packed that the tram had to squeeze between traders and cart-pullers. 

Before leaving North Point, we intentionally walked past the drab Wah Fung Chinese Goods Centre, which was once Hong Kong’s largest Chinese department store. The building it was in, Kiu Kwan Mansion, was where Chinese communists met in 1949, and where underground communists hid during the 1967 riots.

That night, our last in China, we were treated to a light show from our hotel room! Embrace Hong Kong - we did indeed!

Next post: Hong Kong's Avenue of the Stars before leaving for Brunei!

Posted on March 20th, 2026, from home in Denver, where we're experiencing record-high temperatures not normally seen until mid-June. It's downright scary to know that Denver and the mountain towns had the warmest winter since 1880, and wonder what we will all face this summer. Water restrictions will be the least of our worries. Please take care of yourselves and your loved ones.