I left Hong Kong a week before the Victoria Park vigil marking 28 years of the pro-democracy protests in Beijing's Tiananmen Square yet wasn't surprised to read that this tiny island's citizens had the gumption to take on the Chinese government. Hong Kong marches to its own beat, despite the mainland's attempts to dominate it. Every time I return to the city of my birth, I feel a frisson of expectation and possibility. Hong Kong's energy and efficiency make it one of the world's most attractive island cities. I was mulling this over with a motley crew of expats on a leisurely Sunday cruise on what the locals call a "junk" boat. If they call these spacious, sleekly appointed, comfortable boats junk, I shudder to think what they would make of Mumbai's local equivalent. As we set sail from Aberdeen Pier, Ms. Ivy Leaguer recalled how, when she first came to visit Hong Kong from Seoul in 1982, the area was just a fishing village with little to offer except the floating seafood restaurant, Jumbo, which accommodates 2,300 diners. Today, Aberdeen is filled with residential high rises overlooking the big boy yachts docked in the harbour.
Apparently I wasn't the only one whose boat expectations had been exceeded. "I always thought these junks were, well, junk," said The Heiress, peering about gingerly, as a gaggle of toddlers clung to her leg. "I used to tell my husband we can only rent a proper yacht, but this is quite civilized." We dived for the rose (Domaines Ott of course), even though it was only eleven o'clock in the morning, and set sail towards Po Toi, the southernmost island. As I was marveling at the clean waters, Mr. Hedge Funder asked me, "Did you know Hong Kong is a huge archipelago of 260 islands?" I did not, I replied, worrying this may lead to a lengthy geography lesson, but, disappointed at my ignorance, he had already moved on to discuss some gargantuan financial deal with Mr. High Flying Banker.
Soon the talk turned to the Chinese and their mind-boggling wealth. "I was at a dinner party the other night at what is probably the most beautiful home I've seen in Hong Kong, and much of the evening was spent discussing how to transport the family's pet dogs from the U.S. since they had recently relocated," said Ms. Yummy Mummy. "They were obviously too precious to go in the cargo of a commercial airliner. I mean the family looked so appalled at the thought. Then they decided to send their private jet to ferry them here." As we digested this interesting fact, Mr. Tech Guru piped up: "Are they looking for more pets? I wouldn't mind volunteering myself."
Indeed, the Chinese uber rich are a class apart. Just this week, The New York Times reported last week that the balance of power at art auctions has shifted to China and that biggest selling artist at auction is now Zhang Daqian, a Chinese modernist who died 34 years ago. Picasso comes in a distant second. It's much the same with diamonds. A friend of mine, a rough diamond sight holder who travels to African mines every other month, showed me a photograph of a rough stone weighing more than 350 carats. He was confident that the stone could be cut, polished and offloaded to a rich Chinese buyer.
At dinner a few nights later I found myself at the recently opened TokyoLima, a Peruvian Japanese bar and restaurant based on Nikkei cuisine, which dates back to the 19th century when Japanese immigrants arrived in Peru. As I attacked my delicious Tacu Tacu, a hearty daal chawal-esque rice and legume plate, the talk turned to pricey club memberships. As a Mumbaiker, I sympathized. "It's just becoming ridiculous," said Ms Broadcast Journalist, as she sipped her sake. "It's anywhere from $275,000 for the Aberdeen Marina Club to more than a $1 million for the Hong Kong Golf Club. At this rate the American Club seems positively cheap at $237,000! We may as well invest in a yacht and sail the seas on the weekend." Either that or a junk.
