The entrance to Wing Ning Wai (永寧圍), one of a number of largely preserved walled cities and villages along the Lung Yeuk Tau Heritage Trail (龍躍頭文物徑).
We stand outside the village gate in hesitation. It’s late afternoon; the sun is preparing to set behind the hills of Kowloon and Hong Kong Island. The road is quiet, save for the occasional car or minibus that passes by. We can hear children playing somewhere in the village. Dogs bark in the distance.
“So…can we go in?” Jordan asks.
I’m not sure. I look around and find the village notice board. A cursory glance reveals notices about drainage repairs and the evening curfew (8 p.m.), but nothing about entrance restrictions for visitors. Farther out, a sign points toward our direction: Wing Ning Wai (永寧圍). This is certainly one of the stops we recognize. But the residential feel – this is still a village, after all – makes an entrance seem a little uncomfortable.
“I think so. There’s nothing around here that explicitly says we can’t.”
We slowly step in. And as the narrow path unfolds, I am struck by the very fact that I – an outsider, with no claim to Hong Kong beyond heritage – am here, in a preserved village, amidst the peaceful lives of local residents. Not just me, but three of us: all outsiders, equipped with cameras and curiosity, but few connections.
And yet, here I am, and here we are. Three more visitors on a heritage trail, straddling the divide between not-so-past and not-so-present, between not-so-public and not-so-private.
It is difficult to explain.
The Hong Kong Project 