No prizes for guessing that 'Wan' in Tsuen Wan's name means 'Bay', but the meaning of Tsuen is less clear. It can either refer to an obsolete bamboo fishing instrument, or to a kind of fragrant indigenous plant. Either way, Tsuen Wan has an abundance of soul, charm and other intangibles not normally associated with the term 'New Town'.
Larger than one might expect for a relatively anonymous population centre, this satellite city has a population of more than 800,000. And thanks to its proximity to key transportation hubs, including the airport, is drawing in investment and development interest as Hong Kong's centre of gravity subtly shifts from Hong Kong Island to Kowloon.
While strikingly ultra-modern in places, Tsuen Wan is one of those parts of the city where, with sufficient heat and humidity, the aromatic miasma of old Hong Kong returns in the air - an evocative blend of the wet market, incense, sawdust, cement mix, duck-grease, dried traditional Chinese medicine herbs, and a faint top note of Pak Fah Yeow (white flower oil).
In general, Tsuen Wan is an ageing 'new town' that is beginning to regain its confidence, thanks to an uptick in construction and development. And this is having an invigorating effect on local businesses.
The Tsuen Wan of yesteryear is never far away though - and it's a captivating place. Senior citizens sit contentedly in the park playing go or checkers. Schoolchildren banter in the line for the red-top minibus. The kinetic clutter of mahjong games emanates from elegantly crumbling low-rises as one wanders the teeming streets of this corner of the New Territories. Hawkers ply haberdashery from pavement stalls under the banyan trees. Drying laundry flaps from the high-density housing like Manchu banners. And above it all looms Tai Mo Shan, Hong Kong's highest peak, accessible for hiking, picnicking and generally escaping the urban scrummage.
'Being at the end of the MTR line, Tsuen Wan used to feel like a frontier town,' said Norman Chan, a 47-year-old broker who lived here in the 1970s and frequently returns to see family members. Mr Chan has always been fond of this formerly industrial town. 'I get a surge of feeling for this town whenever I arrive on the MTR. Once outside of the station I see the mountains behind me and my hometown ahead, and it's all I can do to stop yelling: 'Ma! I'm home - put the tsang hong lo bat tong (homemade radish and carrot soup) on the stove!''