One of the great pleasures of visiting Hong Kong is to walk through Escher like mazes of the midlevel escalators, flying concrete passovers, dead ends, detours and snaking alleyways of the city. The former colony and port is a palimpsest of styles and you often find yourself tossed back into another era. Layers of architecture, history and cultural adaptation are stacked on top of each other in a uniquely beautiful and organic way.
I was constantly getting lost, circling back on my footsteps and pausing to take photos of all the different angles and corners of the city as they revealed themselves. One of my favourite spots was Jamia mosque, a secret garden halfway up the world’s largest outdoor escalator, ferrying commuters up the endless stairs and hills of the island.
It was a peaceful, quiet place of worship. Children were playing in the courtyard, a sweeper was watching pigeons feed, and the devotees were bent in silent prayers within the walls. The mosque, and its verdant grounds, was an oasis of silence and solitude wrapped in the towering cranes of the ever upward construction.