Continued from my previous post about this traditional fishing village....Outside of the markets and restaurants is the residential area of the village. On the way we passed a small beach, which was almost completely trashed:
Mixed in with the heaps of seashells were remnants of every kind household goods imaginable: broken dishes and glass, cans, plastic bottles and bags, yards of electronic wire, clothing, even some parts to appliances and cars.Nevertheless, this beach is a very popular place to hang out. Kids played in patches of sand, and tourists and locals alike were gathering shells, taking photos, and fishing off the nearby pier.
The village itself probably hasn't changed much in a hundred years, and this is reflected in its total absence of urban planning and design. Which I found to be completely charming, by the way. It's quite a switch from the sleek, relentlessly modern towers that Hong Kong favors these days.Homes are crowded together on streets no larger than a sidewalk, using a variety of building materials and some bright, beach-like colors on the outer walls and doors (as in the first photo, above). That's a motorcycle, in the background, making its way down the street here:
I can't imagine what a map of this village would look like. It's a maze of side lanes and streets, where nothing is laid out in a straight line. Crooked stairways take you up to yet more homes rising up from the shoreline, against the mountain. Everywhere you turn, there's another doorway, another alley.
Just about every house has two shrines outside the front door, one at eye level, and one on the ground.
A further walk along the shoreline bring you to the temple. It's dedicated to Tin Hau, goddess of the sea and protector of fishermen.
Coils of burning incense hang from the awning outside...
... and there are many places where worshippers can offer joss sticks.
Finally, like any good temple, there are fortune tellers nearby. Judging by the signs hanging on the gate outside his door, this one reads your palm.
As a last note, I'll just say that Lei Yue Mun is one of the most photogenic places I've seen in Hong Kong. Maybe it was the late-afternoon light, or the lovely weather, but it seemed that no matter where I pointed the camera, I found something interesting to photograph. I wasn't the only one who felt similarly inspired, as I encountered dozens of other tourists/photographers on my path. Fortunately, the people here are quite used to all this attention, and hardly blinked when the cameras started clicking away.
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