All of the superlatives ever used to describe Hong Kong are remarkably accurate. Since the 1997 handover to mainland China, at the expiry of a 99 year lease with Britain, the colony has strived to remain true to itself. In the aftermath of the official release from British control, there were initial concerns that it wouldn't recover, due, in part to an exodus of fearmongers who fled overseas with pots of money. In fact, many of those cavaliers who parted are returning, not in hasty leaps, but in a gradual crawl. The evidence of ongoing prosperity, despite some financial dips, is reflected everywhere, not the least of which are cranes for even more construction in a tight, congested space.

　　From the beginning, doubt surrounded the probability of the island's survival. What Elliott claimed for Britain as the spoils of the opium wars in 1842, the seemingly inhospitable rock, infested in Happy Valley with disease riddled insects, and today bearing annual responsibility for eponymous flu strains, Chinese and colonials have mingled together in united strength. Hong Kong, Xianggang in Mandarin, means fragrant harbour, which it is, but what is most striking is the layering of buildings and skyscrapers, slick, flat-topped towers and shiny spikes, cemented to Victoria Peak and its foothills like fragmented pencils in a jar. Sometimes spindly and delicate, glassy enclosures, often chunky and solid, some bulging with symmetry, the copious designs do not upstage the ever-changing facade of the mirrored masterpiece of triangles, styled by I.M. Pei, architect of the Louvre's pyramid. Often shrouded in drifting daytime fog, the nightscape presents a brilliant skyline when viewed from Kowloon.

　　Reputed to be one of the world's most expensive addresses, and no doubt nudging the island of Manhattan for the reputation of most valuable real estate, the ratio of flashy cars, diamonds and authentic Rolex watches to ordinary workers riding a public transportation system of buses, subways or harbour ferries and wearing knockoffs is high. The city easily meets the needs of lesser mortals who serve the rich and famous, but as landlords demand excessive rents over US ,000. the underprivileged and unemployed cannot stay. Kowloon's Nathan Street and island street markets, like that in Stanley still stock vital cheaper goods, just as McDonalds and its clones keep fast food prices affordable. The outlying community of Aberdeen, inhabited by descendents of those who pre-dated the island's English development, remains modest in comparison, with boat-people on sampans, junks, and operating floating restaurants still dominating the economy.

　　For a tourist dropping in for a few days, Hong Kong is more than a hub of financial and commercial activity. Shopping, of course, will always be a major pastime, but respite from the sales counters can be had at the beautifully landscaped Hong Kong Park. Here, couples can come on their lunch hour to be married at the Registry Office and photographed among the rockeries, shrubs, bridges and waterfalls. A conservatory and Teaware Museum are peaceful hideaways, and a ride on the nearby funicular of 1888, the Peak Tram, is enjoyable as is the commanding view at the top. A unique outdoor escalator solves a major elevation problem and steers walkers away from the choking area of Central, while at the same time, displays another sample of insular ingenuity. A waterfront walkway along the peninsular TsimShaTsui, across from Causeway Bay (location of the infamous noon-day gun) and the wingy bird-like Convention and Exhibition Centre in Wanchai, (former red-light district of the fictional Suzy Wong) borders the busy port opposite the panorama of slope engineering. Before being fitted-up for a tailor-made suit, beware the gourmet restaurants that test even the best of fitness freaks...and should there be too much to buy, suitcases are available everywhere, priced reasonably to protect Hong Kong's reputation as a city of good deals.