Transportation and Typhoons

One of the reasons I looked forward to a return to Hong Kong is that I found it such a livable place. Of the estimated 420 square miles of land (much of it mountainous) occupied by the territory, about 85 percent of it is uninhabited, so most of the 7 million people who live here are housed in small apartments in very tall buildings. You might think that cramming all those people into such little spaces would lead to a lot of congestion. Not so.

The people who live here usually keep personal space sacred and move orderly even when a typhoon warning has been issued and everyone needs to get home before public transportation shuts down. The picture I’ve included here was taken after the students were all sent home from City University late in the afternoon to await the arrival of cyclone  They are moving through the tunnel—orderly and quietly—from the school to the mall that connects with the trains they will take back to their homes.

Dream Transportation System

I love traveling in Hong Kong. There are always multiple ways to get anywhere—by train; by bus; by light rail; by ferry; and by minibuses. A train to the airport is also available (that is accompanied by a bus to the train, of course). You can check your luggage before boarding the train and be ready to go to the gate upon arrival. 

            And when you get off the train going anywhere, there are escalators, stairs and elevators to take you to another level—all conveniently located with multiple signs telling you which exit to take. The airport train even has greeters to give you a cart for your luggage. 

Seemingly every metro stop also has a multi-storied mall located immediately next to it, and each chock full of every brand-name store you have ever heard of,  many in the Versace and Gucci class. Everyone manages the travel with one smart card, called the Octopus card, which is swiped on buses, trains, in convenience stores, car parks, supermarkets and much more.  These cards were introduced in 1997, the first contactless cards in the world. Today more than 10 million have been issued in a city whose population is only 70% of that number—wonder what they do with all those extra cards?

Koppu’s Arrival

I had heard reports of a typhoon on Monday morning but its scheduled arrival was not until early Tuesday so I put it out of my mind. It was my class day anyway—three hours, beginning at 3:30.  Just one hour into the class, we all suddenly were alerted by a disembodied voice telling us first in Cantonese and then in English to evacuate the university and return to our homes. Outside there was a little wind and some sprinkles, but not much else going on. I enquired whether this was serious and did we really have to leave and was told that was the case. I also asked what happened when the “typhoon alert was hoisted to level 8,” and learned that transportation might be shut down. So all of us dutifully walked out and to the train station to return home. Not much happened (as you can see in this picture of the harbor taken about 5:30 p.m.) for a number of hours, when the rain started beating against our 19^th floor window and the trees outside were being visibly tossed about.  School remained closed until the level 8 warning was reduced to a 3, and safety was assured.

            At first I thought that the university was being alarmist about the warning and the closure, but then I remembered Hurricane Katrina. If only Louisiana had thought of such a system and responded so very early for hurricane evacuation, more people might have been spared. Here the Hong Kong Observatory issues detailed instructions on nearly everything—school closings, transportation shut downs, work arrangements, emergency response systems, you name it. Neon sign owners are even alerted to the time for shutting off the power to those signs.

 

Rainy-day Services

Of course with a cyclone comes rain. And with the rain comes umbrellas, all of which are carried into the multiple malls around the city. But the management also has a way to deal with dripping umbrellas.  At the entrances you will find plastic bags, just the right size to cover the “brolly” completely.  Lately, because people were concerned with the proliferation of plastic bags, some malls instituted the practice of “brolly wiping.”  Upon entering a mall, someone will take your umbrella and wipe it dry. Result—no slippery floors, no mud (not so likely anyway because of all the concrete in the city); and no cleanup afterwards.What a great idea.