Slow boat to China

I first visited Hong Kong in my gap year, 15 years ago, and rereading my diary I recall my joy when I jumped into a fishing boat at Aberdeen and jostled among sampans and junks - these traditional boats have disappeared, together with their on-board residents and a whole way of life. (The remaining junks are now tourist restaurants.) And I remember a train journey through the New Territories, past duck farms, water buffalo and rice paddies: these have since been razed for Hong Kong's soulless new towns.

With surprise and relief, I discover there are areas that remain unpopulated and pristine. The Plover Cove area in the north-east of the New Territories is one such region. Etherington and I hike here, climbing through forest, passing abandoned villages - people now prefer to live in the city. We skirt unused rice fields and wander inside the deserted walled village of Lai Chi Wo, among empty terracotta-roofed homes sprouting creepers, and a temple fronted by a big open space once used for Chinese opera productions. According to Chinese tradition, for good feng shui a village needs to be shielded by rolling hills and backed by trees. This settlement must have astonishing feng shui because it is surrounded by autumn maple, schima and camphor trees.

Miles from anywhere, we stop for lunch at a secluded village called Sam A. A couple, who introduce themselves as Chen and Xiaomin, live in one of the village's two houses.

Their garden is full of beehives. Dogs lie in the shade, fish swim in a large bucket and papayas hang from trees. Almost all their belongings seem to be outside, including a freezer and a stove on which Xiaomin, having insisted we stay for lunch, prepares delicious fried noodles, vegetables and tea. From here we follow the coastline, surrounded by Yan Chau Tong Marine Park and some of Hong Kong's oldest rock formations, dating back 400 million years.

From the New Territories I head to bucolic Lantau, one of Hong Kong's subtropical islands. It's larger than Hong Kong Island and much of it is conserved as a country park. Hong Kong's Disneyland and the new international airport (which resulted in Chek Lap Kok mountain being flattened) are there yet much of the island is mountainous and covered by jungle. The ferries to reach all Hong Kong's outlying islands leave from a line of piers at the feet of soaring skyscrapers, making the contrast all the more striking.

From the wharf at Lantau, the road hugs the coastal path and twists up sheer mountain roads. Hong Kong's second-highest peak is on Lantau - Fung Wong Shan, meaning Phoenix Mountain in Cantonese, although it is commonly known as Lantau Peak.

The Lantau trail delivers walkers to the top of this peak. I start from Ngong Ping, leaving hordes of tourists queuing to ascend the steps to Tian Tan Buddha; at 34 metres it is the world's largest seated outdoor Buddha. Instead I head up the steep trail, gazing back across the valley to the hill upon which the Buddha sits in silhouette. It is an impressive sight as the sun rises over the colossal bronze statue. In the distance is the cable car that leads to the statue but there are few signs of the modern world: just mountains, tall grasses swaying and the sea far below.

Another idyllic rural hideaway is the tiny island of Tap Mun Chau, off the coast of Sai Kung. It has the atmosphere of an old-world fishing village. There are fish-breeding rafts bobbing on the water, stilted houses raised on the water's edge and mountains looming above. Two old women sit talking on battered plastic chairs outside their homes on one of the island's narrow streets. Mops, baskets and plastic buckets are piled up under the overhanging balconies and a pug dog watches as two children play with kites. Lots of the women here still wear the large and floppy black Hakka hats - the Hakkas are a traditionally agrarian Chinese ethnic group.

Many people have chosen to move to the city so Tap Mun Chau is ramshackle but with the charm of an overgrown secret garden. Birds sing, giant green and blue butterflies float by and ivy grows up the walls of ruined stone houses. Cows wander the paths, past thickets of banana and bamboo trees. One path leads to the ornate 17th-century temple of Tin Hau, the Taoist goddess of the sea, ending at a lonely bench on a headland where I watch the waves crash against the rocks.

The island retains a strong community. An elderly woman with long baggy shorts and gumboots carries a scythe to a gathering of her neighbours. It is the festival of Chung Yeung, a day to respect and remember the dead. The sun starts to dip and I can see the fishermen returning home, wearing their archetypal straw hats. They swarm towards us, lanterns flickering at the back of their small boats.

The cheapest fare to Hong Kong currently is with Malaysia Airlines at $591 with an aircraft change in Kuala Lumpur. Vietnam Airlines charges $1070 with an overnight stay in Ho Chi Minh (airline's expense). On Qantas you pay $803 and fly non-stop. (Fares are low-season return from Sydney and Melbourne, excluding tax.)

Paul Etherington runs Kayak and Hike from Sai Kung Town. Full-day kayak tours are $HK900 ($169) a person, $HK800 for half-day tours, eight-hour hikes for $HK700. See kayak-and-hike.com. Ferries for Lantau leave regularly from the Outlying Islands ferry pier in Central (Hong Kong Island). Tap Mun Chau can be reached by ferry from Wong Shek pier in Sai Kung Peninsula.