A New Chapter, An Old Love — Hong Kong, Again

By Paul – Senior in Sneakers

I always thought I’d slow down by now.

Brisbane felt like the kind of place you do that in. I’d found myself a tidy apartment right beside the Botanic Gardens, close enough to the river to catch a breeze, and with just enough city hum to feel alive without being overwhelmed. After years of movement, I thought I was ready for stillness.

But stillness doesn’t always bring peace.

Not long after moving in, the Cross River Rail works began roaring around the city. Even at night, the clatter of construction echoed through the walls — drilling, reversing trucks, steel clanging. It made it hard to sleep, and reminded me of something unexpected: I didn’t want quiet just for quiet’s sake.

I’d lie awake, flicking through SBS Food, letting Adam Liaw’s calm voice and late-night recipes soothe my tired head. I don’t drink coffee, so there was no ritual morning fix to look forward to. Just the quiet thought: maybe I’m not ready to stop just yet.

The truth was, even without the noise, I didn’t feel settled. I was newly divorced, seventy-two, and more aware than ever that time isn’t endless. I hadn’t even fully unpacked before I started daydreaming again — and every dream pointed back to the same place.

So I made a decision. I listed the apartment on Airbnb, booked a flight, and returned to the one city that has always welcomed me back like an old friend: Hong Kong.

View of Hong Kong's iconic skyline framed by lush greenery from Victoria Peak, showcasing the city's blend of urban architecture and natural beauty.

I’ve spent more than 35 years there, on and off. It's been the backdrop to some of the best and hardest moments of my life. And returning now felt like coming home with new eyes — older, yes, but also more open than ever to the beauty in chaos.

I landed after dark. The city glowed beneath me, alive and humming. As soon as I stepped outside, the thick, familiar airhit me — warm, comforting, crowded with memory. Somehow, I felt younger. Lighter.

Hong Kong City by Night

I went straight to Wanchai. The band I’ve followed for over fifteen years was still playing in the same spot, and my friend’s pub, The Stag, was just as I’d left it. There’s nothing like walking into a place where people still remember your name, no matter how long you’ve been gone.

Wan Chai Band

Everything about the city pulsed with life. The traffic. The sizzling street food. The laughter that echoes between buildings. It’s a city that’s electric day and night — and yet, it still knows how to offer you quiet moments, if you know where to look.

But my heart always ends up in Mui Wo, my old village on Lantau Island. It’s slower there. More human. You’ll see wild buffalos grazing in the fields and hear nothing but birds and footsteps for hours. There are waterfalls hidden behind quiet trails, sea breezes through the trees, and no rush to be anywhere. Just thirty minutes from the city, and it feels like a world apart.

Mui Wo Buffalo Neighbours

I stood there again last week, toes in the sand, thinking about the twists life takes. I’m seventy-two. I’ve packed and unpacked more times than I can count. But this chapter feels different. Not final, not farewell — just precious. Like I know now to savour every bit of it. Every face, every flavour, every footstep.

I don’t know where I’ll go next, or how long I’ll keep moving. But I do know I’m not done yet. Not by a long shot.

Hong Kong is just the beginning.

There’s more to come — and I’m grateful you’re here for the ride.

— Paul