If you’re looking for accommodation and you’re looking for cheap, there’s only one place in Hong Kong that you’re likely to start.
The southern end of Nathan Road on the Kowloon side of Hong Kong harbour, has long been the home of such grand establishments as the The Peninsula, the Sheraton and the Hong Kong Intercontinental, each offering health clubs, saunas, fully equipped gyms, breathtaking views of the Hong Kong skyline and anything else you could think of to make your stay in the city as luxurious an experience as possible. But there is another side to this luxury living, a side that can be found by walking a mere block and a half further up Nathan Road, away from the forecourts and the fountains and the five star views, into the neon hustle of the real Kowloon.
As noted in my previous post Two Nights in Chungking Mansions, both Chungking Mansions and the slightly less notorious Mirador Mansions, a little further up the road, are home to much of the cheapest accommodation in Hong Kong. The two buildings are essentially a complex of several high-rise blocks comprising a vast collection of low-budget guesthouses. And, as folklore would have it, they are notorious for being a haunt for every pimp, swindler, drug dealer and illegal immigrant that has ever passed through the city, as well as being decrepit, filth-smeared fire traps.
My previous brief stay in Chungking Mansions did little to dispel this advanced press, though having allowed myself to be seduced by the prospect of a single room for a mere HK$100 a night by the persistent little man that latched onto me on the street, I was in no position to be complaining about the lack of complementary Belgian chocolates laid out on the pillow when I arrived. This time around, after a week’s hiatus, I exited Tsim Sha Tsui station determined to pay no more than I had previously to secure myself another pokey little flea pit.
The thing about these places is, there are so many guesthouses (around 80 in Chungking Mansions alone), that the number of beds to the number of people currently in those beds, must always come out in favour of there being plenty available for the happy backpacker to choose from when walking in from off street. Hence why there are so many people standing outside attempting to lure you inside with promises of “You look – you like!” It’s thus simply a matter of naming a not too unrealistic price and waiting until you find a place that suits.
Currently, on HostelWorld.com, for example, the lowest price for a single room with private bathroom is HK$150. No doubt a slice of this goes to Hostel World itself, so firstly, don’t book. Secondly, if this is the case, the actual price of the room will no doubt be lower. I was offered HK$180 for a room in Mirador Mansion as soon as I came up from underground, which promptly fell to HK$150, then to a final HK$120 after I said that I could get a room for HK$100 down the road. It was a similar story when another guy tried his luck. He finally offered me HK$100 a night, after reducing his price gradually from HK$150, and took me into Mirador Mansion to show me the room.
The rooms are, naturally, all of a similar standard at this rock bottom price – a bed in a box room, maybe with a window if you’re lucky, and a small toilet/shower partitioned off by a fold-away door. If you’re not the fussy type, it’s a fine little thing to experience for a few cheap nights, though since I was adamant that I needed Wi-Fi access in my room, this first showing was no good for me.
After seeing a couple more – one of which, again, didn’t have wireless access, the other of which I couldn’t get for the price I wanted – I ended up being taken by another woman to Fujian Guest House, still in Mirador Mansion, from where I am typing this now. I’m on the bottom bunk of which the top one is filled to the ceiling with packets of toilet roll. There’s no window this time and the air-conditioning seems momentarily to have failed, but the bathroom, compared to the last place, would make you think you were in the Peninsula itself. It has a sink. Imagine that.
The place seems to be home to the family that run it – mainland Chinese folk by the sound of it; from Fujian it would be safe to assume – as well as those that are staying here. Indeed, the whole of the building, as far as the proprietors go, seems to be much more Chinese than the heady ethnic mix in Chungking Mansions. I’ve already spent my first night here on this concrete mattress, after another late-night of Kowloon exploration until long past two in the morning, and was woken by the incessant chattering of Putonghua outside my door from around 08:30 onwards. I’m thus typing this with eyes almost closed and a brow covered in sweat due to the current lack of air-con. I’m booked in here for three nights but will need to stay longer if I can get them to agree to the same price. But the novelty of hostel life is already wearing off. Fingers crossed for some job news soon.
