National Geographic : 1962 Jan
way. Four men crouched intently together on a landing, moving lighted tapers back and forth under V-shaped troughs of tin foil. As a heated droplet of some kind rolled back and forth, they intently inhaled its fumes through matchbox covers held in their mouths. These men were some of the colony's esti mated 200,000 drug addicts. The droplets, I was told later, were molten heroin, an ex tremely potent derivative of opium. And, as Mr. Wright-Nooth had warned, there was nothing at all romantic about it. I called him next day. "About that raid," I said. "Thanks, but don't bother about show- ing me any den ... er, divan. I found my own dope smokers-four of them." One afternoon, GEOGRAPHIC staff men Bill Garrett and Peter White arrived unexpectedly in Hong Kong on their way to assignments in Laos and Viet Nam -just in time to join me for dinner. Snake Shop Caters to Strange Tastes Earlier in the day I had dropped in at She Wong Lam's cluttered little snake shop on a Victoria side street. While I watched, a man named Lo Ken fearlessly reached into one square wicker basket after another to select a Aberdeen Restaurants Float Serenely; Sampans Shuttle Diners To and Fro Fishing boats often bring their catch home alive. Sold to double-decked restaurants such as Tai Pak (left) and Sea Palace, the fish go on display in tanks where patrons may select their entree. Round-bottomed pans fit over fire pits in the Sea Palace. The method ensures the quick cooking required by Chinese recipes.