Walking home later in the evening I’m poleaxed by the unexpected sound of the Ladies from Hell – skirling bagpipes, midway through Scotland the Brave. Snare drums snap time beneath the wails, the sharp commands of a sergeant-major barking out in clipped Chinese. I’m just across from Kowloon Park where the stone wall banyan trees grow thicker than man’s torso and more twisted than man’s desire, sweating from heat and humidity and listening to the unbelievable. I take the steps two at a time and see them; a full pipe and drum corps of ethnic Chinese, marching up and down through the broad square of the park.

I may just start using Hong Kong as a synonym for unbelievable.