CO129-554-6 Hong Kong University- 1. Appointment of Dr. Chen Shas Yi as head of Chinese Department... 18-3-1935 - 28-10-1935 — Page 37

Hong Kong Hills

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Musing thus on the whims of surveyors, we decided that we could do with one rise less, and refused to clamber to the top of the hillock with the odd name.

It was avoided by skirting it to the west along a path which passes just above Tiu Tso Ngam village, and so down to Heather Pass. A few yards below this pass to the east is a spring which is always running except in the driest of seasons; here we did justice to a magnificent thirst.

A paved path runs eastward from Heather Pass across the slopes of Buffalo Hill to Buffalo Pass. As far as I know, there is no path to the top of Buffalo Hill (1,987 feet), but this glorious viewpoint can be reached fairly casily by a steep scramble of 400 feet up from the pass of the same name. After this digression we returned to the pass and continued along the ridge; the route was a little vague, for the good path had descended into the valley on our left, and we had to trust to cow tracks. In clear weather there is no difficulty in following the watershed down to Delta Pass; unfortunately, however, we were by this time shrouded in thick mist. soon became obvious to the rearguard that the leader, although he continued to plod obstinately ahead, had lost the way; in a little while some cows loomed up out of the mist; they looked strangely familiar, and closer examination proved without any doubt that they were the very cows which we had passed a quarter of an hour previously. After this chastening experience we pulled ourselves together, and found our way to Delta Pass without further mishap. Here we halted for half an hour for lunch.

It

On the far side of the pass is a short steep rise to Ngong Ping. This remote little village has a charm of its own; it stands on a high plateau, hidden from the rest of the world; a grove shades it in summer, and shelters in from the east wind in winter; in front are a few paddy fields, and beyond them are only the mountain tops and the wide sky.

The path crosses the paddy fields, goes over a pass west of Pyramid Hill, and descends to Ma On Shan village; we left it a few yards below the

pass on

the far side, and took an easy short cut across the hillside in the direction of the summit of Ma On Shan, until we struck the path up from the Iron Mine. The route from here to the summit has already been described. We reached the top in thick cloud at 2.45 p.m., halted long enough to eat an orange, and turned back to descend to Sai Kung. It was pleasant to come down out of the cloud on to lower ground; the greens and browns of the hillsides were good to look on, for colours never seem so rich as when the eyes have been attuned for hours to a grey monotone of mist.

The fishing fleet was anchored in the little harbour of Sai Kung, and from the junks came a cheerful clack of voices, like the contented sounds from a rookery in the evening. If Sai Kung were transplanted to the south coast of England, it would become a "beauty spot"; artists would inhabit the cottages; "Ye Olde Ship Inne" would inevitably make its appearance, with its ruinous prices and sham antiques, and at its doors charabancs would unload their hordes at week-ends. But away with such horrid thoughts; Sai Kung is still cut off from civilization by six miles of footpath, and if you cannot get beer to revive you for the long trudge home, at least you can get delicious oranges for next to nothing.

Thus refreshed, we strolled home in the dusk over Customs Pass, and at 7.10 p.m. reached the car waiting at the bottom of the hill.

July 1935.

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