Golfing (Badly) In Hong Kong

After parambulating through Hong Kong's affluent, glitzy, shiny center, I decided to hit a spot on the periphery. I had heard that Kowloon is a gaudy, tacky, touristy mecca, which both repelled and intrigued me. Unfortunately I misread my guide book and did not doublecheck, and so when I got off at the Kowloon MTR stop I did not realize that I was about to step into a dreary industrial dock land, and not to the huckster-filled Miracle Mile, which is on another line and another stop.

Oh well. After wandering around the enormous and foreboding station ediface, I was about to give up when a sign caught my eye -- "City Golf Club." It looked a bit like Fenway Park in the days before the Monster seats -- huge nets stretching upward, promising something magical within. Instead, in the middle of urban blight and industrial macinary was a three-tiered astroturf wonderland of a driving range, putting green, urban golf mecca. It was hot and humid and I had not swung a golf club in weeks, but I figured you have one shot to do certain things, such as fire golf balls toward cranes overlooking the bay. I got a station at the lowest lever. At its farthest point, I'd say there were no more than 240 yards or so, but the netting stretched a good 200 feet in the air, so it would take a good shot to do damage to the periphery.

I'd like to say that I am pleased to report that I sprayed balls all over the place and showed a latent shotmaking capacity with the too-short driver I rented. I did spray shots all over the place, but that was largely the result of my inability to forge a satisfactory repeatable swing. I did likely do some damage outside of the facility, as I tagged a couple of good shots, but I did equal daqmage to the caddy shack ahead of me. They did not invite me to be a member, put it that way.

On the train ride back I marvelled about one urban consistency -- the way in which the urban facade quickly gives way to the reality of city life for the majority of its denizens. Whether on the train ride from London to Heathrow or Hong Kong to its airport, the glimmer gives way to grit. Hong Kong is a skyscraper oriented city -- space is at a premium -- and there were countless towers, clearly residencies, along the route of the MTR. Dingy buildings with clearly struggling wall air conditioning units attached to little flats far from the splendour of the city's glass, steel and reenforced concrete monuments to prosperity. On the surface, Hong Kong is a rich city. But the majority of its people are far from affluent, as the train ride away from the Fenway Park golf complex, a playground for the successful classes, reminded me.

Now and truly, I am off to the airport and Beijing.