PEEL STREET FRESCO, CENTRAL, HONG KONG.
Walking from the Soho levels down, threading between dark wooden restaurants, Peel street begins with the reek of incense, throat-scratchingly intense. The always burning smoke in a small alcove, red tiled, functional, with an indecipherable inscription hidden in a lockable niche.
Sacred cow – MId Levels
PEEL STREET FRESCO, CENTRAL, HONG KONG.
Just down from the tiny temple is the Peel Street Fresco, a dark door, half hidden in a wall. A fake Titian, the ‘Fiesta Campestre’ fills half the back wall, next to it an equally huge Ingres odalisque. In front of these dominating and ancient beauties I am perched on a stool, strumming my guitar. Less attractively ancient : )
Peel Fresco
Amongst the sumptuous ladies of Peel St. Fresco, deep in the concrete city’s heart. Whatever would Robert have said?
with Titian and Ingres
Fresco
COMING ON TIME FOR HOME. Sun again across the water, but in a rat tat tat of rain on the harbour, slicking the Kowloon Streets. I was photo bombed by a disdainful mom, and almost led astray by the Path of the Dragon : )
Photo bomb mom
HK cabs so cute
Almost led astray by the Fire Dragon way
Pretty maids to the rescue, dressing for a day off
Maids in Victoria Park remembering home
All in a row