Rant: mutton dressed as Lamma

Is living on Lamma like joining a cult? Converts can't seem to stop themselves preaching about their hippy haven.

Waves lap the shore as you leave the ferry, they'll say (gag). The air is so clean. There's a real community!

But when I go to Lamma, I end up on a gritty beach facing a set of enormous power station chimneys. Hmm, breathe in those delicious fumes!

Yung Shue Wan on a Saturday is as congested as Nathan Road, only the rich mainlanders have been switched for badly dressed expats in Jesus sandals.

Don't get me wrong, not everyone who lives on Lamma is a jerk. But those guys who talk about "community" are usually teachers who dine at Bibo and drink in SoHo, and really just mean they know (and have tried dating) every teacher of their preferred gender who lives within a 3km radius of their home.

If you want real island life, try Peng Chau. Cheap seafood and authentic community spirit.

Shall we tell the truth? Lamma is dirty. Honestly, it makes my skin crawl. Litter festers in every creek and blankets the beaches. The Lamma dog killer? Please, those suicidal mutts just wanted out.

Cult-blinded Lamma lovers won't even admit they hate being stranded at Pier 4 in Central at 2.45am on a Saturday, waiting for the first boat home.

"There's a great vibe down there, man," my friend gushes of this purgatory (it's clear which side of this trip is hell). "Everyone's, like, jamming on their guitar."

You know where there's also a great vibe on a Saturday morning?

In my Hong Kong Island flat. Not a chimney, dementedly driven golf buggy or dead dog in sight.