"The colony of Macau is probably the best excursion. It's like Hong Kong, but instead of the British taking over, it was the Portuguese, so Macau has a very European flavor. There are temples and casinos and museums and great restaurants. It's like going to an old city in Europe - only an hour by boat from Hong Kong."

"Hong Kong is an island, but there are mountains. It's not grand mountains like the Rockies, but sharp little mountains, very steep. Sometimes, I walk or run Repulse Bay, which is an area with nice trails. There are trails that go up to Victoria Peak. You can actually walk all the way up and down the peak on these paths. Hong Kong also has the MacLehose Trail in the New Territories, which hosts an annual 100-kilometer race. You go in teams of four. It took me 23 hours with my team. I think the record is like 13 or something, and that was by Gurkha soldiers. It's hellish. I cried
at the end. At Clearwater Bay, there are both hiking trails and beaches. Stanley Beach is nice as well."


"One day when I was 7, my dad, who had never taken me on an outing before, told me we were going on a trip. Excited, I ran and changed into my best outfit: a cowboy costume, complete with 10-gallon hat and plastic six-shooters. I'd never been down to the lower city before, though I'd seen it from Victoria Peak. We boarded the ferry for Kowloon. When I asked where we were going, my dad said, "Somewhere special." On the ferry, I watched the skyline approaching, holding my cowboy hat tight against my head with one hand. The ride across the bay is a short one, and minutes after we'd left, we were told to prepare to land in Kowloon. Even though it was still early, I'd already decided this was the best day of my entire life. Kowloon was dirtier and more crowded and louder than anything I'd ever seen in my life, and I loved it. I'd never seen so many people. Everyone had a purpose - heading to work after a long night's sleep or home after a long night's play. What, I wondered, was our purpose? My head spun with curiosity, but my father was determined to move on, and I was dragged along in his wake. Finally, one last turn brought us onto a street lined with tenements whose windows were dark and shuttered. "Here we are," he said. The sign before us identified the building as the Beijing Opera Academy, a name that told me nothing at the time, but meant everything for my future as an actor. My father had just taken me to my new school."