Or camp, or pretend we’re back in Cornwall, burn our faces in the sunshine, eat the finest seafood. Drink beer, bump into the odd cow or two. Visit the 400 year old temple, find the pirate tunnel.
Tap Mun, or Grass Island. Saturday 15th December 2018. Hard to believe we weren’t on the Cornish coastal path in the height of summer. (Apart from the temples and Hakka women in traditional dress, squatting at their chores).
In a quieter moment or two, I wondered if, before she hit hard times after her husband died, my Mother might have had a day on this island in the New Territories. Tap Mun or Tap Muen. A hop skip and a jump, bus and ferry ride from Sai Kung. Would have taken her a lot longer to make her way here, back in 1945, but maybe she did. Maybe she too felt the wonder and joy I experienced today on Grass Island. I really hope so.