After the handover

Author: By Joan Scobey, Globe Correspondent

Date: SUNDAY, January 17, 1999

Page: M1

Section: Travel

HONG KONG -- Ever since Britain handed Hong Kong over to China on July 1, 1997, everyone who visits the former crown colony looks for signs of change. Is the Chinese army patrolling the streets? Are the normally affable Hong Kongers no longer smiling? Is everyone wearing drab Mao jackets? Is anything different?

Well, yes and no.

The big surprise in Hong Kong is that it's the economy, not the politics or policies, that has changed. That dazzling economic engine -- free market economy at its most brilliant -- was hit by a recession in late spring. Slim, short-skirted young women and attache-case-toting young men still talk on their cell phones in the streets, but the streets are virtually empty of visitors; ever since the economies of Japan and southeast Asia tanked, Asians, once Hong Kong's best customers, can no longer afford to come. Ironically, Hong Kong, once the region's prime tourist destination, is worrying that it is now just another Chinese city.

On the other hand, the Hong Kong government, which most people feared would immediately fall under Beijing's control, still seems quite free. To visitors, and many locals, Beijing does seem to be keeping hands off. ``Beijing has scrupulously honored all its promises in word and deed,'' said Kerry McGlynn, press secretary to Governor Chris Patten at the time of the handover and now the deputy director of Information Services for the new government. In a news conference with international travel journalists in late June, he said, ``I'm really heartened. There's really no change. The Hong Kong press is hard on us, but this is still the same bustling, dynamic, freedom-loving Hong Kong I've known for 24 years.''

For many observers, the most chilling moment during the handover was the image of Chinese mainland soldiers marching into the city. Today, the popular response to that from Hong Kong officials is ``If you can find two uniformed Chinese soldiers on the streets, we'll give you HK$1 million (about $130,000).'' In truth, the only soldier you'll see guards the entrance to army headquarters. Moreover, members of the People's Liberation Army are forbidden to wear uniforms in the city, and must change to civvies when they go about the streets.

Beijing seems to be bending over backward, at least cosmetically, to assuage the fears of the Hong Kongese. The famous Noonday Gun, a beloved colonial tradition, is still fired off every noon by the Royal Hong Kong Yacht Club at Causeway Bay, despite dire predictions that this stirring symbol of the Empire would die with the handover. And the military's Prince of Wales Building is still pointedly called by its very colonial name -- and the Chinese claim they have absolutely no plans to rename it -- although, of course, it now flies the red flag of China instead of the Union Jack. (Skeptics think the army really is holed up inside the Prince of Wales Building, and anyway, Beijing can get thousands of troops billeted just outside the New Territories into the city in minutes.) ``People were afraid the PRC would have their hands all over Hong Kong, but it is being run by the Hong Kongese,'' said McGlynn, referring to the People's Republic of China. One of the early confirmations of that was the first open election for the legislature, in May 1998, when the Hong Kongese voted in record numbers for a third of the seats, and returned many incumbents, including democrats. Another was the first post-handover march marking the anniversary of the Tiananmen Square massacre, in which thousands participated without incident.

Of course, lots of things are different. First of all, the former crown colony that was headed by a British governor is now designated a Special Administrative Region run by a Chinese chief executive. And the red flag of China, with its five gold stars, is now flying over public buildings, next to the white, five-petaled bauhinia flower, the new symbol of Hong Kong.

As you may have read, you'll be arriving at a new airport. No more thriller landings at city center Kai Tak, where pilots flew so close to Kowloon apartment buildings that you could see residents watering their window boxes. The huge new airport, named Chek Lap Kok, sits on a reclaimed island in the South China Sea, connected to downtown Hong Kong 15 miles east by the world's longest road-rail suspension bridge and an express train that makes the trip in 23 minutes. The $21 billion project, which opened at the end of June to great fanfare and an embarassment of glitches, should have its major problems under control by the time you get there.

But lots of things remain the same. Travelers don't need visas for Hong Kong, even though they do for China. They still use Hong Kong dollars, pegged to US currency at the same rate of HK$7.70 to one US dollar, rather than Chinese yuan.

Not to mention Hong Kong's notable institutions. The Star Ferry, paying no attention to the change of government, still carries passengers across Victoria Harbour. Stanley Market and the shops off Nathan Road have better than ever prices in clothes, art works, pocketbooks, and leather. And at the Luk Yu Teahouse, everyone's favorite breakfast stop, women still sing out descriptions of the hundreds of kinds of dim sum they're carrying in baskets or trays.

Because Hong Kong is begging for visitors, the city is making sure there's also a lot that's new. Clued in to the popular interest in fung shui, the city just launched a tour explaining the 3,000-year-old art of divination and living harmoniously with the environment on which an authority explains the good (and bad) fung shui at Victoria Peak, Repulse Bay, and several buildings in the heart of the central business district.

There's even an emerging new area of Hong Kong Island called Soho, which stands for South of Hollywood Road. The back-street shophouses on its narrow hilly streets now house colorful bars and specialty restaurants from all over the world. You get to Soho on the Central Hillside Escalator Link, a system of outdoor covered escalators that start at Central Market on Queens Road. The escalator runs uphill from 10 a.m., taking visitors on an aerial tour through residential areas, past sidewalk market stalls, to the antiques and curio shops of Hollywood Road, and the medley of ethnic restaurants around Elgin and Staunton streets.

Another surprising change is that Hong Kong's economic downturn can be a bonanza for Western visitors, many of whom could never afford to go before. Hotels and airlines are offering enticing discounts. Sale signs are up in windows of many of the toniest shops in town. It's a fine time to visit Hong Kong.

Getting around. From the new Chek Lap Kok airport to central Hong Kong, you can take a 45-minute Express Bus (about $5), a 23-minute Express Rail (about $13), or a taxi (about $45). Once in town, the underground MTR, which stands for Mass Transit Railway, is fast, clean, and efficient; and the Star Ferry is the most delightful way to travel between Hong Kong Island and Kowloon.

Staying there. With good deals available at many hotels, this is the time to try out a high-end hostelry. For example, on Hong Kong Island, the small and elegant Ritz-Carlton (800-241-3333), superbly located on the harbor opposite the Star Ferry pier, has reduced peak view rooms from $445 to $155, including breakfast, from now to Jan. 10, and to $187 from Jan. 11 to March 31. The Island Shangri-La (800-942-5050) has cut all its rates 25 percent through March 15, so rooms regularly starting at $324 are now $243, including breakfast. Across the harbor at the Kowloon Shangri-La (800-942-5050), rooms that regularly start at $285 are $228 in an executive package including breakfast, to May 15.

Travel tips. Lonely Planet's ``Hong Kong'' is a handy pocket-size guide with good maps. For more information, call the Hong Kong Tourist Association at 800-252-HKTA (4582) or visit www.hkta.org.