Hong Kong – Then and Now

I’ve visited Hong Kong twice in the last 6 months, and what a difference half a year can make.

Back in October, the Covid hotel quarantine programme for visitors and returning residents had just ended (which largely prompted my visit). I still had to undergo a PCR test on arrival, plus regular testing for the first 7 days of my stay. In addition, for the first 3 days I was unable to dine-in at cafes, restaurants and bars, or visit public places (museums, cinemas, gyms, etc.), until I had a blue “all clear” QR code on a tracking app. Masks were still mandatory for everyone, indoors and outside, but the QR check-in system was only sporadically enforced.

Of course, this being Hong Kong, the 3-day ban did not prevent me from taking taxis or public transport, going to work, or shopping. So, earn, spend, travel!

Compared to my previous visit in August 2019, there were no signs of any public protests (thanks to ongoing legal and political measures), nor many visitors from mainland China or overseas. The number of expats out and about in Central was well down (although I suspect a lot of people were still working from home), and I don’t recall there being many crowds even during peak shopping and business hours in the CBD.

I visited M+, the amazing new art museum in the West Kowloon Cultural District – which was probably the most popular location I saw during my stay, in part because admission was still free. There was a really interesting and charming exhibition of art and design in Hong Kong since 1945, from the context of cultural, social, commercial, industrial and political developments.

On a past visit, the ground had not yet been broken on the Cultural precinct, and the only art exhibition on show was a series of pop-up installations housed in re-purposed shipping containers (a link to Hong Kong’s important role as an entrepôt?).

Staying near Clearwater Bay also meant being among fewer people, and even gave an opportunity to visit a beach I had never seen before – where local residents had posted signs to encourage visitors not to despoil this small and natural idyll amid Hong Kong’s ever-expanding reclaimed land development.

Talking to some local contacts, there was a suggestion that the key motivation for scrapping the hotel quarantine programme in October was due to the Hong Kong FinTech Week being held the following month along with the much-postponed Hong Kong Rugby Sevens tournament (both expected to attract lots of bankers, brokers, traders and investors…). Yes, in Hong Kong, money still talks.

Fast forward to March, and my latest visit was a stark contrast. Not only were airfares much more expensive than late last year, but the number of visitors (especially from the Mainland) had also boomed. Now that there were no PCR tests or mask mandates, and as domestic tourism has opened up, it seems everyone was desperate to get to Hong Kong. Apparently, in the 30 days since the mask mandate was lifted, 1.5 million people had entered the Special Administrative Region, compared to the few thousand monthly visitors in previous months.

During March alone, Hong Kong hosted the Clockenflap festival, Art Basel Hong Kong, Art Central, a major golf tournament and the WOW Web3 Summit, as well as the Hong Kong Rugby Sevens restored its regular (and rightful) spot on the international sporting calendar.

Out and about in Central on a Friday night at the Tai Kwun art and entertainment precinct almost felt like old times, with people competing for taxis along Hollywood Road. I also got my fill of art – Joan Miró at the HK Museum of Art, Yayoi Kusama at M+, modern Chinese art at the JC Contemporary, and installations and pop-up shows at the K11 and Landmark malls.

From a business perspective, most of my meetings centred on the recent consultation process for Hong Kong’s proposed regulations on Virtual Assets, due to come into effect in June this year. It’s expected to boost the number of licensed crypto exchanges and brokerages operating in Hong Kong, and is a significant leap forward compared to past conversations I have had on the topic, where there was a general reluctance to engage in any meaningful discussions. Now it seems, whether encouraged by Beijing, or seeing the regulatory push back on crypto in the USA, Hong Kong is seeking to become a regional and global hub for all things web3, DeFi, tokenisation and digital currencies. (Not content with the WOW Web3 Summit in March, Hong Kong hosted the Web3 Festival earlier in April.)

Hong Kong is usually very good at reinventing its economic profile following business downturns and market setbacks – especially in the areas of trade, technology, commerce and finance. Perhaps the shift towards embracing virtual assets is simply a pragmatic move. While a large part of GDP is still driven by property and traditional finance, there is a recognition among some that the future is digital…

As much as things change in Hong Kong, they also largely stay the same. Back in October, there was 100% compliance with the mask mandate – but the vast majority of passengers ignored the compulsory seat belt regulation on buses. A breach of the former would have attracted a HK$1,000 fine; the latter, HK$5,000 and 3 months’ imprisonment.

Finally, talking of masks, it’s not that long ago that masked protestors on the streets of Hong Kong were a major legal and political issue. Since then, wearing any sort of mask on a public march or demonstration has been illegal. While I was in Hong Kong last month, the city witnessed its first authorised protest march in several years (about the environmental impact of land reclamation). In a new twist on the right of assembly, march numbers were strictly limited, and all demonstrators had to wear a visible number to identify them. From the TV coverage I watched, the march stewards contained the moving protest behind a rope cordon – so that participants did not literally step out of line.

(On this last trip, I also took a side-trip to Macau – more on that next time.)

Next week: Revisiting Macau – Asia’s Casino Theme Park

 

A Journey Through England

As travel restrictions have eased over the past 12 months, I’ve been taking advantage of the opportunity to visit family and friends overseas.

Late last year, I spent a month in the UK, and it was a trip of very mixed experiences. It was the first time I had been back in nearly 4 years, the longest period of time I have ever been away from the country of my birth.

It’s nearly 30 years since I left London to live and work abroad, and even though I am still “from” the UK, I don’t really consider myself to be “of” it. Despite family ties and social links, with each visit back I feel less and less connected to the place. As a result, I tend to experience my time there as a visitor, rather than a returning expat.

This sense of dislocation has become especially evident since Brexit, and the quagmire that is UK domestic politics. Not only does the political environment feel quite alienating, the profile of the political leadership is almost unrecognisable: last time I was back, Theresa May was still Prime Minister; when I arrived in early November, Rishi Sunak was in the second week of his Premiership.

Luckily, the rolling programme of public sector strikes and other industrial unrest had limited impact on my own travel schedule, even though it has become almost impossible to plan train journeys too far ahead thanks to unreliable timetables and complex booking systems. Fortunately, the grocery shortages evident during the UK winter had yet to take hold, and before I left Australia, I had managed to lock in a favourable exchange rate to offset the effect of inflation.

I spent most of the time in the Peak District, but also visited Manchester, Sheffield, Milton Keynes, London and Kent – a north-west to south-east trajectory. The Dark Peak was my base, and I really appreciate the scenery in and around the town of Glossop, where I stayed – but for a town that used to boast one of the highest number of pubs per capita, quite a few local hostelries were only open from Thursday to Sunday, probably a consequence of Covid, energy costs and broader inflation?

Manchester itself was a dispiriting experience – the city centre (Piccadilly Gardens) resembled a zombie theme park, and there was a palpable sense of anger and an all-pervading threat of violence in the air. Maybe I was there on a bad day, but the overall mood was definitely “off”. By contrast, Sheffield city centre, which I’d not visited since the early 1990s, felt welcoming and had a much more positive vibe.

I have to admit to being pleasantly surprised by my weekend in Milton Keynes. Its reputation, as a planned New Town, for being soulless and devoid of personality is probably undeserved. Yes, it helps if you know how to navigate the network of roundabouts and ring roads (anyone familiar with Canberra would have sense of déjà vu), but I can definitely see the attraction, especially for families, with its acres of space and many recreational activities. If necessary, it’s possible to commute to London, plus there are nearby country parks and village pubs to frequent on the weekends.

Despite my familiarity with the geography and fabric of London, I now see it through the eyes of a tourist. Even though the overall layout remains the same, the constant changes in the built landscape can disorient the infrequent visitor. Because I no longer rely on it every day for work, I actually think London’s public transport has improved, but I’m sure it would only take a strike on the underground, or the wrong type of leaves on the train tracks at Clapham Junction to disabuse me of this situation. While London has always existed in an economic bubble in relation to the rest of the country, it probably wouldn’t take much to undermine the city’s renewed self-confidence as it tries to navigate a post-Brexit role in international banking, finance, trade and commerce.

Judging by a financial services conference I attended, compared to the same conference 4 years ago, there was a lot more focus on regulation as the UK (and the City in particular) disentangles itself from the EU – and as in many other areas, there is confusion about the transition process: understanding which rules continue unaffected; the scope and impact of any interim arrangements; and the anticipation of totally new measures yet to come into force.

Of course, the worst of petty British bureaucracy probably doesn’t even need the headache of Brexit to tie itself in knots. One small example I witnessed: in a country pub, I was told at the bar that I could not be served soy milk with my tea, and that the barman risked losing his license if he complied with my request – but oat milk was OK; and bizarrely, dishes that contained soy and served in the pub restaurant were also available. Go figure. I still can’t work out whether this was a quirk of local licensing laws, a capricious whim of the hotelier, or just a cranky member of staff.

My final port of call was the outer London suburbia of north-west Kent. Close enough to the London bubble to be popular with commuters, it’s also where I spent much of my childhood and teenage years. I wouldn’t say that familiarity breeds contempt, but it gets increasingly hard to feel any nostalgia for the place. Whenever I go back, it naturally feels much smaller (physically, socially, culturally) than when I was growing up there. Fortunately, when I caught up with a bunch of high school friends (all of whom have long since moved away from the area), there was a “very comfortable familiarity”, as one of our group described it afterwards: “not overly nostalgic but warm and generous. It’s the kind of thing I might have disdained when younger but I really enjoy it.” There speaks the wisdom of age(ing).

There’s no doubt a great deal I should be grateful for having been born in the UK, and probably a lot more that I take for granted as a result when I am there: walks in the country, spending some quality time with close family, good pub meals, excellent art exhibitions, even the inter-city train journeys through “England’s green and pleasant land” (no irony intended). All of which make the many varied and minor disappointments even harder to accept – I somehow expect better of the place, even after all this time away.

Next week: Hong Kong – Then and Now

 

Reflections on The Kimberley

I’ve just returned from a 2-week trip to the Kimberley region of Western Australia. It was the furthest I have travelled from Melbourne, and the longest vacation I have had, since mid-2019 and before Covid struck in early 2020. Covid still managed to make its presence felt, in several ways, but thankfully did not directly impact the holiday. Here are just a few observations from my time away.

Although I have been to other remote parts of Australia, living inside the Melbourne bubble can make you forget just how big this country is, and the Kimberley is particularly difficult to get to thanks to the vast distances, and limited access points. I was travelling with my significant other and five of our friends, so the logistics required careful planning. Scheduled flights are limited, and the knock-on effects of Covid have resulted in higher air fares, more demand for accommodation and hire cars, staff shortages across the hospitality and tourism sectors, pent-up demand from interstate visitors who can now travel to Western Australia, and some indigenous and remote communities remain closed or visitors are being discouraged. (We had to take RAT tests before we were allowed to travel to one remote location.)

Our journey started in Broome (via Perth, as there were no direct flights from Melbourne), and then took us to Kununurra, Bullo River and Darwin. In between, we visited Quandong Beach, Mitchell Falls, the Bungle Bungles, Lake Argyle, Mirima National Park, and Litchfield National Park. Along the way we looked for dinosaur footprints, went whale watching, got up close to some crocodiles (freshwater and saltwater varieties), did some star gazing, hiked to see rock art, saw loads of wild fauna and countless boab and kapok trees, and swam in billabongs, waterfalls and lakes. Most of the journey was made on scheduled commercial flights, or with regular tour operators.* In one case, it was cheaper (and far, far quicker) to charter a pair of light aircraft to take us to and from our destination, instead of hiring a couple of 4WD vehicles.

We heard about the significance of the pearl industry in Broome (and its multi-cultural origins), the importance of the Ord River Irrigation System to agriculture, the historic and ongoing role of Darwin in Australia’s defence strategy, and the efforts being made towards sustainability, eco-tourism and environmental conservation and protection across the region (including some of the enormous and historical cattle stations).

Although we did not have an opportunity to meet with any local communities, one of our guides had been working closely with indigenous organisations, and shared some of his insights and experiences of customary law, the corporate nature of some aboriginal businesses, the challenges of addiction and mental illness within indigenous communities, and the knowledge gaps between the Stolen Generation and the younger members of our first nations people.

In addition to some amazing scenery, stunning sunrises and sunsets, pristine beaches and crystal clear waters, the vacation also provided tangible examples of some of the challenges facing Australia: immigration policies, the Jobs and Skills Summit, the Indigenous Voice to Parliament, the environment, energy policy, agricultural production, and national security – themes which I hope to draw on over the coming weeks.

* Our scheduled flights to/from Melbourne were booked direct with the respective airlines, and a couple of charter flights were arranged directly with the local operators, who were extremely helpful. We did hire a couple of 4WDs for part of our time in Broome, but vehicles were scarce, and tended to be expensive. However, most of our accommodation and guided tours were booked through Georgia Bedding at The Tailor, specialising in personalised travel itineraries.

Next week: The Jobs and Skills Summit

 

 

Renzo Piano & the Centro Botín

In March this year, the Victorian Government unveiled the winning concept design for the NGV Contemporary, a new centre for art and design, forming part of the planned revamp of the Arts Precinct on Melbourne’s Southbank. Due to open in 2028, The Fox: NGV Contemporary (to give it’s full name, thanks to the benevolence of trucking magnate and close acquaintance of Premier Daniel Andrews, Lindsay Fox) is being heralded as an iconic, nation-defining statement in support of Melbourne’s claim to be the cultural centre of Australia. So far, so good – but I can’t help feeling the design competition has been conducted with some undue haste: Expressions of Interest were sought in March 2021, with a one-week registration deadline. The competition for Stage One of the project closed in August 2021, and Stage Two in November 2021, with the winning team announced in March 2022, barely 12 months from the EOI. Why the hurry (especially as Melbourne was in lockdown for much of that time), and up to now, there does not appear to have been any public consultation in the design process.

The Centro Botín, Santander, designed by Renzo Piano (image sourced from Wikimedia)

Contrast this with the design of the Centro Botín in Santander, Spain, by Italian architect Renzo Piano, whose story is told in an absorbing documentary, “Renzo Piano: The Architect of Light”. First, neither the architect nor the sponsoring Botín Foundation had any aspirations of creating an “iconic building”; instead, the goal was to have as minimal physical impact as possible, while reclaiming an area of land and returning it to public use. Second, there was a public consultation process, to overcome concerns expressed by some nearby residents. Third, while the documentary has no doubt been artfully edited, it does provide extensive “behind the scenes” access to the design and construction process over its 7-year development, which included a 3-year delay in completion. The fact that this was a private commission rather than a competition may account for this approach, but there was still a great deal of negotiation with municipal and community stakeholders.

The documentary itself is notable not only for the degree of transparency (we observe meetings between architect, client and project managers throughout the process), but also for the simplicity of its narrative, and the wise decision to dispense with any voiceover commentary – the subjects are allowed to speak for themselves. There are also references to cultural icons such as novelist Italo Calvino and film-maker Roberto Rossellini. The use of Mahler’s ‘Symphony No. 5’ in the soundtrack underlines Renzo Piano’s fascination with light as a construction material, as important to him as glass, concrete and steel – the music is most famously associated with the film of ‘Death in Venice’, a city renowned for its light.

If the primary inspiration for the design of the Centro Botín is light (and lightness of construction), I’m struggling, based on the available evidence, to see what the inspiration is for the NGV Contemporary. Despite being a statement about “art and design”, I fear that this project is as much about political statements and lasting personal legacies. Much has been made about the potential job creation during its construction, but much less about the design principles and aesthetic objectives. I hope this project does not turn into a municipal white elephant.

The original NGV (now referred to as NGV International) is a landmark building and one of the most popular destinations in Melbourne. I have known it most of my life, having first visited it aged 10, when it left an indelible impression on me. Having lived in Melbourne the past 20 years, I have been a regular visitor since it was extensively refurbished in 2003. As part of the Arts Precinct, the NGV is a focal point for the city’s cultural activities, and is a major draw card for local and international visitors. Any enhancement of the NGV and the surrounding facilities is generally to be welcomed, and certainly there are parts of the precinct that could do with upgrading. However, I’m not sure the design for the NGV Contemporary is the right decision.

Aside from the hastiness shown by the NGV Contemporary’s design phase, I’m surprised that the winning design team, Angelo Candalepas and Associates, do not appear to have built any comparable projects, despite winning multiple awards for their past work. The Candalepas studio has designed many residential buildings (and I lived very happily in one of their first competition successes, ‘The Point’ in Sydney’s inner city suburb of Pyrmont), but as far as I can see, nothing on the scale, significance or importance as NGV Contemporary. The proposed design looks very “blocky”, notwithstanding the internal “spherical hall”, which is highly reminiscent of New York’s Guggenheim Museum. It’s also not clear what the spacial relationship will be with the existing NGV and other neighbouring buildings, nor whether any of them will need to be remodelled or demolished to make way for this latest addition. I’ve tried, without success, to find a map or ground plan of the proposed development, or any details on how the NGV Contemporary will be accessed from adjacent streets, other than via a new garden that appears to envelop the NGV International – so what existing land will this garden occupy, and what current facilities might be lost in the process?

In conclusion, since its opening in 2017, the Centro Botín appears to have been enthusiastically embraced by the residents of Santander, and manages to be both utterly modern and easily accessible, unlike so many other examples of “statement” architecture. I hope we will see a similar outcome for NGV Contemporary.

Next week: Mopping up after the LNP