Monastery Fog LunchBy Lynda Joy SmithNo matter how much preparation, organization and anticipation, travel doesn’t always go as planned. Somebody said that, can’t remember whom but it must have been a good story. Hong Kong, a world- renowned extravaganza of shopping and food. Choose from century old recipes; try 1000-year-old eggs. These preserved duck eggs are actually rarely more than 100 days old, a traditional Chinese delicacy known as Pidan, sometimes called Ming Dynasty eggs. Overwhelmed by the food diversity? Grab a Macca’s or how about a lunch prepared and served by Buddhist monks? Now that’s a bit different from brunch with the girls. To take the experience to a higher level of enjoyment, we could not see where we were. The fog saw to that. Hong Kong is the kind of place that only gets better. Every trip adds a new depth, even when you aren’t looking for it. It was my third visit and a friend mentioned that we should check out lunch at the Po Lin Monastery. My travelling shopper companion was keen so we looked into the cheapest way to get there. Well, why spend extra on culture when every little bit is needed for those market bargains.
Docking at Silvermine Bay, Lantua , we boarded our non-air-conditioned bus in brilliant sunshine. Chatter from the family groups accompanied us as we wound our way up to the apparently beautiful plateau of Ngong Ping. As the fog became a near total grey out, the bus stopped and all those family groups piled out. What else to do but exit the bus, plus I really, really needed to find the ladies.
With lunch booked and the fog showing a slight tendency to lift, we decided to tackle the 268 steps up to the 25 ton bronze Tiantin Buddha. Step number 168 and ventalin was needed by my asthmatic friend, step 268 and I was trying to remember do you break a rib or not when you resuscitate? Well all I can say is that Buddha does not need a pedicure and taking a photo of a postcard of Buddha in front of his feet must have a definite meaning. It was surreal, trying to focus on what you knew was a really large sculpture in front of your nose, but having absolutely no concept of the scale or of the stunning view. Thank goodness lunch was calling and we didn’t have to ponder the significance of the meaning of the fog. Lunch was served in the open plan monastery canteen. With hosed down concrete floors the décor was further enhanced by white plastic tablecloths secured by large black bulldog clips. Take a seat, sit down and eat. It was like the best vegetarian meal I had ever had. Clear Miso soup, steamed jasmine rice; stir fry vegies, world-renowned spring rolls (by those in the know which now includes me). Table talk was provided by a couple just back from mainland China. Their prolonged tour included some interesting vegetarian meals partaken of in China. You could call this first hand cultural enlightenment, as they were very detailed and descriptive about certain insect dishes that were obviously regional in nature. Back outside and the fog had lifted enough for us to glimpse a very senior Buddhist monk walking past the bronze tripod in the monastery’s courtyard. We camera snapped as everyone else was and upon development ended up with really weird pictures of grey things. If you like to take a walk on the wild side (at my age that means soft adventure), then this was catered for by the fog and the vegetarian lunch at the monastery. I had a great day out, if you would like to experience the Po Lin Monastery contact: Oriental Travel: http:// www.orientaltravel.com Tour Prices @ Dec 2003 $61 USD ($480 HK) Child: $51.61 USD 9$400 HKD) Images By: Lynda Joy Smith |
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Let’s take the Star Ferry on Victoria Harbour, Kowloon
to Hong Kong Island, still the most economical and romantic way to cross
over. Taxis charge extra to transit via the
tunnel, no view included. Relax (we were sunbaking) on a Hong Kong Ferry
from Central piers 6 & 7, as you leave the hustle of the water traffic
behind. Until a few years back, Lantua , the home of the Po Lin Monastery,
was an outer island reached via the sea. Now with the airport sited on the
island, access is not restricted to commuting by boat.
With thick silence surrounding us, only the asphalt
beneath our feet clued us in to that maybe we were in a car park .By logical
deduction (anyway, that’s my version) I followed the sound of Chinese music
to the main entry, thereby finding a sign attached to a rope. Relief was
reached with a horizontal crawl leading to the W.C.