Reflections on Hong Kong – Then, Now, and Everything In Between

Across the harbour from Ocean Terminal

Ten years ago, my first visit to Hong Kong was unforgettable. Welcomed with open arms by family, taken in by the rhythm, energy, and warmth, it left a mark. One of those rare trips that lingers with you long after you're home.

A decade later, we're back—this time with Ten—and it's been just as heartwarming to see her welcomed the same way I was. Full circle, in the best kind of way.

Hong Kong is still incredible, but the vibe feels different. There's a sense of self-absorption, a shift toward the individual. It could be post-pandemic, maybe it's the global mood. But it's not just here—everywhere we've been lately feels a little more disconnected, more inward-facing. Less interaction, more screen time.

But maybe it's also me that's changed. That first-visit high is powerful—everything feels new, vibrant, and alive. On the second or third pass, the edges aren't as sharp. I've felt that in Munich, Berlin, and even Tokyo. The magic isn't gone—it's just quieter, more familiar, and more real.

Some places, though? They grow with you. You find those little corners—a sunrise bench, a tucked-away café, a shortcut that becomes part of your rhythm. That's the spirit of travel I keep chasing. Not to document everything, not to collect photos or likes, but to find places that feel like your own.

Lately, though, I've felt more challenged creatively, especially with photography. What used to feel like instinct has started to feel like effort. The spark's been harder to find. I still carry the camera and make images, but it's been tougher. The inspiration has been... elusive. And I'm forcing myself not to fall back on the usual crutch of buying new gear to rekindle the flame. Instead, I'm trying to embrace limitations—stick with what I have, push myself to see differently, not just snap for the sake of it.

Maybe I need a mental break. Not to document every second of life to share with the world, but to focus on the moments that matter to me. My work has always been more about that—a selfish passion, a quiet dialogue with the places I walk through. And I want that feeling back.

On this trip, Ten's little camera died. We pulled her memory card to see what she had captured before it shut down, and it made me smile—her framing, her curiosity, the little details that caught her eye. I'm thinking of picking something up for her in Japan—something simple, something hers. I want to see what she sees. Her perspective gives me hope. It reminds me why I started in the first place.

While Hong Kong may feel different now, walking with her through Sha Tin—Candy's childhood neighbourhood—getting warm "good mornings" from the elderly out for their morning walks... that moment cut through the noise. That's something you don't get much of in Toronto anymore. People don't even trust each other enough to say hello.

So, no, Hong Kong hasn't lost its soul—it's just evolving, like all of us.

And maybe, in this chapter of life, the most meaningful part of travel is rediscovering the spark, whether through your own lens or your kid's point of view.

What's the best part of this journey?

Still having the curiosity to keep searching for the places—and the passions—that grow with you.

#ReflectionsOnTheRoad #ThenAndNow #HongKongToJapan #CreativeRuts #PhotographyMatters #SelfishPassion #TravelWithTen #LookUpMore #FindingMyWayBack