Reminiscing about the Kennedy Town Piers
The Western District Public Cargo Working Area (to give it its official name) is a place dear to my heart. I stumbled upon it one night by accident. Noticing a steady stream of people entering what looked like a construction-site entrance, my partner and I, our curiosity piqued, decided to follow. It led us to a working pier with bamboo poles, palettes, containers stacked high and the inky night sea spread out before us. It didn’t feel like Hong Kong. It was so open, so breezy, so tantalisingly close to the water, and yet all around us were the familiar markers of the city—the bunched up residential towers of Kennedy Town to our left, Kowloon across the harbour to our right with its ports, highways, high-rise buildings, and the dark hulking masses of Hong Kong hills just visible behind the skyscrapers. It felt as if we had stumbled onto some magical hideout where the only rule was that everyone finally had the space to just be.
