Wong Tai Sin

For culture, architecture, photography

With 22 public housing estates and over 85% of the district’s residents living in them, Wong Tai Sin has played an overlooked, yet important part in Hong Kong’s history — its involvement in the evolution of public housing — though that wasn’t always the case. In the early 20th century, there wasn’t enough accommodation to house Hong Kong’s booming population, leading to the rise of wooden squatter huts scattered across the city's hills. In 1953 however, disaster struck, fire raged through the squatter settlements in Shek Kip Mei, leaving over 50,000 people homeless and prompting the government to confront the city’s housing situation.

While the earliest developments were mostly to rehome these victims, a longer-term solution needed to be found — for those living in other squatter settlements, and to improve the living conditions of lower-income families often found in Hong Kong’s overcrowded tenement buildings. One such modern development was Wong Tai Sin’s Choi Hung Estate, which featured self-contained flats with their own kitchens and bathrooms, rather than communal facilities common at the time.

It, and subsequent housing estates, was like high-rise villages, with their own supermarkets, convenience stores, bakeries, restaurants, cafes, doctors, dentists, Chinese medical clinics, post offices, schools and playgrounds.

Blocks of the estate were completed between 1962 and 1964, with an opening ceremony attended by Hong Kong’s then-governor Sir Robert Brown Black. Famous for its rainbow-coloured facade (“choi hung” means rainbow in Cantonese), the estate received the Silver Medal at the Hong Kong Institute of Architects Awards in 1965.

Isabella Tsoi lived in Choi Hung Estate with her family for 20 years; they were assigned their flat by the Hong Kong Housing Authority in 1976. “In the old days, most of our neighbours kept their doors open and our parents would chat together — friends could be made everywhere, and our mums shared or exchanged cooked food regularly,” she remembers. “Another advantage of keeping the doors open was for wind circulation during summer — back when we didn’t have air conditioners!”

Although Tsoi moved out in 1996, she now runs a website dedicated to the neighbourhood community (choi-hung.hk) and often visits her sibling, who still lives there. She has witnessed many changes in the area. “There used to be many hawkers along the roads inside the estate, selling veggies, groceries, snacks, noodles, iced drinks and newspapers. Now all hawkers are prohibited,” she laments.

Other changes include more lifts, increased building security, safer playgrounds and regular repaints of that famous rainbow facade. “I’m proud of living in Choi Hung Estate — it has been one of the legends of public housing,” says Tsoi.

Nowadays, the estate has found fame as one of Hong Kong’s most Instagrammable destinations, with photographers visiting from around the world to snap its colourful exterior and palm tree-lined basketball courts. “The rainbow facade at Choi Hung is probably the most iconic building in Hong Kong,” says local photographer Kay Kulkarni. This influx of photographers is sometimes a source of curiosity to residents, though most simply carry on with their lives.

Kulkarni recalls: “I was sitting on the estate’s playground and an elderly gentleman came up to ask me what I was doing. I showed him my images and he told me that his family had been there since the estate was built, and explained to me the reason why the buildings were rainbow-coloured is that choi hung means rainbow in Cantonese.”

Keen photographers will also find the distinctive character synonymous with Hong Kong’s public housing at the district’s other estates. Choi Hung’s neighbouring development Choi Wan Estate (meaning “cloud” in Cantonese, to match its geographical position “above” Choi Hung’s rainbow) is another of Kulkarni’s favourite places to shoot, with enclosed courtyards that create dizzying photos.

“It's one of these unique estates where each angle creates a different image,” Kulkarni explains. “For instance, when you're on the top floor and take an image, the light doesn't reach the bottom and it creates an illusion of an abyss. When you're on the ground floor and looking up at the building, it looks like a box which has a torch shining right down upon it.”

It’s essential however, to remember that these are people’s homes, and to be respectful when taking photos. “Take images of the architecture, but not of people’s personal space,” Kulkarni advises.

To gain perspective over the district’s sweeping range of skyscrapers, head to Lion Rock Country Park — an uphill walk along Sha Tin Pass Road from MTR Wong Tai Sin Station. The hike through the park to Lion Rock Peak takes around four hours, eventually delivering panoramic views of the cityscape below — an experience that encapsulates Hong Kong’s unique contrast between natural and urban beauty.

For culture, family, relaxation

If you’re seeking good fortune, religious guidance, a break from the busy city, or all three, then Wong Tai Sin District is the place to be. In one afternoon, you can experience the peace and tranquillity of Chi Lin Nunnery and Nan Lian Garden, and then immerse yourself in the colourful traditions of Sik Sik Yuen Wong Tai Sin Temple.

Hidden in plain sight amid Wong Tai Sin’s overhead highways and high-rise residential buildings, lies the nunnery and adjacent garden. The easiest way to explore these two destinations is to start with Nan Lian Garden. Located just a few minutes from MTR Diamond Hill Station, walking through its wooden gates transports you to an oasis of calm, with clever sound insulation keeping out the noise of nearby traffic.

Based on the Tang Dynasty (618-907 AD) Jiangshouju Garden in China’s Shanxi Province, Nan Lian Garden showcases traditional Chinese landscaping techniques and aesthetic principles, with winding paths taking you past lush greenery, ornamental rocks, koi-filled ponds and a rushing waterfall. Meanwhile, its classical timber structures are built without a single nail, including the striking red bridges leading to the garden’s centrepiece, the magnificent golden Pavilion of Absolute Perfection. There’s also a Chinese Timber Architecture Gallery with detailed models and information about these ancient building techniques, and regular exhibitions about traditional arts and culture in the Xiang Hai Xuan hall.

For Yip Ping-kin, a worker at Nan Lian Garden, it’s about more than just a moment of peace. “I see more than just rocks and trees; to me, each object is distilled from history and the culture of the ages. The garden is a platform to spread Chinese culture and history. It gives people from the busy city a chance to have a quiet moment,” she explains. “When you drink a Wu Yi tea inside Song Cha Xie [the garden’s teahouse], you’re also experiencing the peace that the traditional Chinese tea ceremony can give you — tasting the years of efforts that went into planting the tea, frying the tea leaves, and the long history behind Chinese tea.” The garden’s vegetarian restaurant is renowned and often books out during weekends.

Connected to Nan Lian Garden is Chi Lin Nunnery. Established in 1934, this former villa went through several stages of renovation in the 1990s, before finally opening to the public in 2000. More than just a place of worship for Buddhists, it is now home to a school, library, dentist and residences for the elderly.

“Being a nun in the modern day means helping other people,” Yip says. “In ancient times, it was all about studying books, learning the ways of Buddhism and its philosophy. Now you can see that they dedicate their mission to helping the needy, sick and old.”

The main areas open to the public are the Lotus Pond Garden and Hall of Celestial Kings, which houses a gigantic golden statue of Buddha guarded by four deities at each corner of the hall. The Lotus Pond Garden allows visitors to settle into the calmness before walking into the sacred hall where chants play in the background.

Meanwhile, a contrasting destination for culture, heritage and religion lies just one MTR station away. Embodying the religions of Taoism, Buddhism and Confucianism, Sik Sik Yuen Wong Tai Sin Temple is probably the busiest temple in Hong Kong, and has a reputation as the luckiest too. Dedicated to the god of healing Wong Tai Sin, this iconic temple is a feast for the senses, with bright red pillars, bronze zodiac statues, jade-coloured roofs with intricate latticework and dragon adornments, and the scent of incense thick in the air.

“I have been coming here to wish for good luck for at least a decade,” says 65-year-old Wong Mei-yu. “I follow the same routine every year — I buy nine incense sticks and a stack of wishing papers from one of the stores outside the temple, and then write my family members’ names onto the papers. First I present the incense sticks to Buddha and the gods, then burn the papers to wish for good luck and fortune.”

Visitors can also get their fortune told by shaking a bamboo stick out of a box onto the ground. The temple provides free bamboo for this, with each stick inscribed with a number and corresponding Chinese saying.

For help deciphering your fate, head to one of the fortune tellers in the adjacent Wong Tai Sin Fortune-Telling and Oblation Arcade — they will translate the reading, providing context to your life, for a small fee. Their doors are plastered with photographs of celebrity customers and signs indicating their language abilities. They can also tell your fortune from palm or face reading — ancient arts that Chinese people have relied on for generations to help navigate their future.