Pulling in to Kwun Tong MTR station from Lam Tin marks the starting point of a journey observing the old being eclipsed by a new, modern era.
On the way down to Yue Man Square from the station, people rush up and down the stairs, paying little attention to the arrows on the wall that instruct them to go up on the right and down on the left. A busker with a hoarse voice sings and plays his Chinese musical instrument on the stairs, while a middle-aged lady is distributing fliers to passers-by on the other side.
The scene looks busy but everyone seems to be accustomed to the chaos and vibrancy. A watch repairer peers through his loupe at a stall between McDonald's and a bank, just as he has for the past 30 years.
Paint peels off the wall on the buildings that house Chinese medicine practitioners, back-street bodybuilding gyms and hair salons identified only by discoloured billboards dangling above the entrances. Stained door plates suggest business premises lie within, as if to assure passers-by that commerce exists up the winding staircases, and not empty space.
There are shops selling fruit and Chinese tea in the passages that are barely wide enough for two people. Shopkeepers chat with customers. One taunts them with his rare handmade Chinese desserts, saying: 'You will not find another traditional dessert stall around here.'
Moving down to the park around Yue Man Square, you would expect to hear birds singing or feel a breeze. Nature is all around, but is stifled by the all-conquering din of traffic.