Keep your Sunny Side Up

Walking to a village near Sunny Bay.

05.04.2021 - 05.04.2021

On my commute home from work I pass through Sunny Bay Station on the Tung Chung Line. This station exists mainly so that people can go to Hong Kong's Disneyland, but it also provides a bus service to Discovery Bay where I live. It used to be a quiet, empty station. Then for a while, pre-covid, it was filled, and I do mean filled, with mainlanders coming to visit Disneyland. Pandemics and border closures put paid to that and all was quiet again.

Then someone somewhere must have realised everything is closed, there's nowhere to go and nothing to do, but there's a stretch of empty coastline along the front at Sunny Bay. Due to this every Sunday when I've gone hiking, I've made my way home past lineups of cars, tents, barbecues, fishermen, kite fliers and little kids who have never seen grass before running around crazy by the sea.

Parked cars line the waterfront promenade.

Campers enjoy a day in the countryside.

Fishermen on the front.

Now though, we are in a five day public holiday as Easter merges with Ching Ming and the crowds are no longer content with just staying at Sunny Bay. My bus home to Discovery Bay has the queue from hell every day as crowds flock to our beaches and parks. I suppose it's fair enough and exactly the same as the influx places like Stanley, Lamma Island and Cheung Chau have been putting up with for years, but it's relatively new to us and exacerbated by the fact that people here can't travel anywhere outside Hong Kong during holidays unless they are willing to pay for three weeks of quarantine when they come back.

Anyway all that aside, today was another dreary, dark day but I wanted to do a short walk, then go swimming in our newly opened pool. I decided I would check out Sunny Bay and try to find out what the crowds are flocking here for. To do this I took a bus from Discovery Bay to Sunny Bay Station then instead of rushing to the MTR like I usually do, I headed to the front, turned left and followed the road beside the railway line. I was heading along Yam O Wan, a bay which is older than Sunny Bay, and which ironically translates as Shady Bay.

Walking along the railway line.

Walking along beside the railway line.

Togetherness beside the railway line.

Trains hurtle past on my left as I walk next to the railway line..

Walking by the railway line.

I liked these trees on the walk along the railway line.

Yam O Bay.

Apparently in the 1960s, a lumberard was relocated to Yam O Wan as it was a calm, deep, wide bay and thus perfect for lumber storage. Logs were strengthened here by being driven into the sea floor. The salt water corroded the bark on the outside of the logs but helped preserve the rest. There are still many logs sticking out of the sea here. They were left behind when the lumber industry went into decline around a decade or so ago.

Logs left to harden in the salt water, Yam O Bay.

Drying Logs.

When I read up on this area, it mentioned there was a little village here called Luk Leng Village. This translates as Deer's Neck Village. It was described as an almost uninhabited village, but it was certainly busy on a holiday weekend. There were still several villagers in residence there as well as a large influx of visitors. The village is located on a peninsula. It has a very island feel to it. I had to keep reminding myself it was attached to the mainland. At the end of Luk Leng Village there is an uninhabited island called Cheung Sok which can be accessed on a sand bar at low tide. It was high tide when I visited and it was only possible to get to Cheung Sok by swimming.

Luk Leng Village still had several inhabited houses and some of these seemed to have set themselves up as restaurants. There was a pier where at one time you could catch a boat to Tsuen Wan. I don't think that is the case now. There were also several piers which were made of bits of wood tied together with cloth, string, wool, whatever was available. I had read a blog before visiting where someone stood on one of these and had a panic attack because the logs start rolling as you move on it. I watched lots of people stagger along these for photos. I did not have a go myself.

Steps down to the village.

House in Luk Leng Village.

House, Luk Leng Village.

Village House.

House and dog.

Rental bikes

Have you seen my aeroplane?

House.

Restaurant, Luk Leng Village.

Restaurant on stilts Luk Leng Village.

Restaurant.

Barbecuing.

Triceratops, Luk Leng Village.

Fishing Nets.

Lifebelts.

Makeshift Pier in Luk Leng Village.

Makeshift Pier Luk Leng Village.

Makeshift Pier.

Real Pier.

From the pier.

On a beach by the pier.

Togetherness, Luk Leng Village.

At one point there is a bridge connecting one area of the village to another. It was lined by many artists who seem to flock here to paint pictures.

Bridge, Luk Leng Village.

Bridge Luk Leng Village.

Its all happening along that bridge.

Artist Luk Leng Village.

Artist, Luk Leng Village.

Artist.

There were also lots of mangroves and boats: some usable, some abandoned and sunk.

Boats in Luk Leng Village.

Boats and Makeshift Pier, Luk Leng Village.

Boats, Luk Leng Village.

Boats Luk Leng Village.

Boats, Piers and Sleeping Dogs.

Boats for hire.

I noticed many bundles of branches which had been tied up and left out to dry scattered around. There were also several gardens where people were growing their own vegetables.

Growing Crops.

Gardens.

Garden.

Bundles of Branches.

At one point I left the coastal path and followed a little path marked toilets and barbecue site. This led me to both those things, plus to a little beach where people were having a great time barbecuing, swinging on rope swings, paddling and swimming.

On the beach.