Part of Tam Kon Shan is gone. Vanished. Removed. To make way for progress. For Cheung On Estate. That’s what they say. But I stand here looking at this hill. This hill between Moon Tsai Tong and Cheung Shue Tau. This Tam Kon Shan on Tsing Yi Island. And I wonder what stories it holds.
Tam Kon Shan. The name itself whispers of history. Of a time before the concrete and steel. Before the bustling roads and the interchange that bears its name. Before part of it was sacrificed for the modern world.
They say it was a significant hill. A landmark for those living on Tsing Yi Island. It stood tall. Proud. A silent witness to the island’s transformation. Its slopes must have been alive with sounds of nature. Imagine the birdsong. The wind rustling through the leaves. The quiet hum of insect life. A stark contrast to the hum of traffic now echoing from the Tam Kon Shan Road and Interchange.
But Tam Kon Shan’s story is not just about its physical presence. It is a story of change. A story of how a landscape can be altered to accommodate the needs of a growing city. A story of a past that lives on in its name. In the memories of the people who once knew it whole.
This is more than just a hill. It’s a reminder of what was. Of the quiet beauty that once existed in this now urban landscape. It’s a symbol of Hong Kong’s incredible development. A testament to the relentless march of progress.
I look up at Tam Kon Shan. I see its altered form. But I also see the ghosts of its past. The echoes of a story waiting to be fully told. I see its enduring presence. Its strength in memory. Tam Kon Shan. A hill that stands tall even in its diminished state. A silent reminder of a Hong Kong that was. And a Hong Kong that continues to change.