Day 7: The Castle Peak.

The day started misty and standing of the summit of Hong Kong's 7th highest mountain was a heady experience. It could be mistaken that I could peer through the clouds to be enveloped not just by the greenery, but also the habitation of this most affluent of this technological society. It has to be said that this mountain resort is heavily peppered with sentiments of tourism.

I was told by the tour guide (who enthusiastic waved a yellow tour banner) that most of the province could b viewed from this height if the darned clouds weren't there and the sun were to shine just a bit brighter- maybe a more descriptive report next September and a few prayers about clearer skies in the near future.

The nest hour or so was devoted to window shopping where the usual fanfare for foreigners was put on glittering display. The shopping plaza located just outside the mountain itself sells all conceivable paraphernalia for newcomers: fans, marble/jade 3D pictoramas and a swanky Ming Dynasty hat of which I obliviously placed on my head at the expense of my sister's skewed humour.

Stanley Marketplace.

After journeying on the coach for what seems like 15 minutes or so, we reach a seaside resort replete with Westerners.

A variety of buildings are situated here, but a commonality is that the appearance of the residential flats is that of luxury and well thought construction. A gargantuan marketplace extends through the upper half of the bay with smatterings of a few dilapidated flats. Hmm'¦ back to the penthouses alongside the bay. Well, I would say that they are reminiscent of Portuguese architecture (possibly borrowed off houses in houses in neighbouring Macau).

The market is distinctively different from any other street market I have been too. One stall may specialise in pastiche' plated gold jewellery (fake Rolex if anyone wants them for 300 Hong Kong Dollars, circa 27 pounds), whilst others offer alternatives to the teen coveted Adidas apparel (deliberately spelt as Adeas to not breach copyright).

As you walk further up the bay, quasi European restaurants line the left side. I sight a steak and fries restaurant, a pub with a surprising number of reddened Chinese tenants, an Italian café (with an additional Asian delicacy menu) and an upmarket chique' food bistro.

Shopping, eating and negotiating a path through hordes of people can be claustrophobic, but seeing such a concentration of English and American people here is a comforting presence and made me forget where I was for a few moments. I thought how much of this place had retained her English heritage whilst it was a British colony for 99 years. Funnily enough as I am sitting by the pier writing, a woman in a white hat and a modern corset dress sits adjacent to me. Four photographers with tripods are taking pictures and it slowly dawns on me that she is a model. I really wanted to take a photo (an understatement), but I remind myself of the severe reprimand I would get from taking unsolicited photos of people.

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