City Unscripted

The Quirky, Quiet, and Questionably Legal: My Favorite Unusual Things to Do in Hong Kong

Written by Elsie Leung
Writes from memory, lunch tables, and old Hong Kong streets.
15 Jul 2025

unusual-things-to-do-in-hong-kong\ Unusual Things to Do in Hong Kong for an Unforgettable Experience

Discover unique experiences in Hong Kong that go beyond the ordinary. Dive into the city's hidden gems and make your visit truly memorable. Read more!

By Elsie Leung - Writes from memory, lunch tables, and old Hong Kong streets.

The unusual things to do in Hong Kong hide in plain sight, like catching crustaceans indoors at HA Cube or stepping into hyperreality at Sandbox VR. This former British colony collects oddities the way my grandmother collected porcelain cats; everywhere you look, there's another one grinning at you from an unexpected corner.

The question isn't whether extraordinary activities exist in this territory. The question is which ones you're brave enough to discover.

Most visitors to Hong Kong Island follow predictable paths: Victoria Peak at sunset, Star Ferry rides across Victoria Harbour, dim sum brunches in Tsim Sha Tsui. But they're like reading only the first chapter of a very long, very strange book.

Hong Kong runs on multiple frequencies. There's the surface level; gleaming skyscrapers, efficient public transportation, the mass transit railway whisking tourists between prescribed destinations. Then there's everything else: the territory that breathes in alleyways, in historic buildings that shouldn't exist but do, in traditions that blend Britain and China in ways that make perfect sense.

These experiences require patience. And sometimes, adequate funds for adventures that can't be googled in advance.

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Sandbox VR in Hong Kong takes escape rooms into hyperreality territory. This isn't your typical puzzle-solving experience; you're battling pirates, fighting zombies, exploring alien worlds with full-body tracking that makes every movement matter.

I walked into their Tsim Sha Tsui location expecting a gimmick and walked out questioning what constitutes "real" experience. The technology reads your entire body's movement, translating every step, every gesture, every instinctive duck into the virtual world. When a zombie lunges at you, your body reacts before your mind catches up.

The remarkable thing about Sandbox VR isn't the technology itself, it's how it creates genuine emotional responses. I've seen grown adults shriek at virtual spiders, laugh uncontrollably at their friend's avatar, and work together to solve problems they'd never encounter in the physical world.

Each session lasts about thirty minutes, but the adrenaline can last for hours. The best way to approach it is with friends who aren't afraid to look ridiculous, because you will, and that's exactly the point.

Summary: Sandbox VR offers hyperreality escape room experiences that blur the line between virtual and physical adventure.

The Cup Noodles Museum in Hong Kong lets you create custom instant noodles from scratch. This isn't just about choosing flavors; you're designing the entire cup, selecting ingredients, and learning about the invention that changed how the world eats quick meals.

The process starts with decorating your cup using markers and stickers. Then you choose from dozens of ingredients: different noodle types, broths ranging from traditional chicken to exotic seafood, toppings that include everything from standard vegetables to unusual additions like cheese and corn.

What makes this experience remarkable isn't the novelty, it's the connection to food culture. Instant noodles aren't just convenience food in Hong Kong; they're a bridge between traditional Chinese noodles and modern urban life. The museum explains this history while you create something uniquely yours.

The custom noodles take about twenty minutes to prepare, and you can eat them on-site or take them home. Either way, you leave understanding how a simple invention transformed global eating habits.

Summary: The Cup Noodles Museum combines creativity with food history, letting visitors design personalized instant noodles.

HA Cube offers something I never expected to find in Hong Kong: indoor fishing for crustaceans. This isn't a restaurant with a fish tank; it's a dedicated facility where you can catch shrimp, lobsters, and other crustaceans using proper fishing techniques, then have them prepared fresh.

The facility recreates aquatic environments using sophisticated filtration and lighting systems. Different pools house different species: small shrimp in shallow areas, larger lobsters in deeper sections, exotic crustaceans in temperature-controlled tanks.

The fishing itself requires skill. These aren't half-dead creatures waiting to be scooped up; they're active, alert, and difficult to catch. The staff provides equipment and basic instruction, but success depends on patience and technique.

What makes HA Cube remarkable isn't the novelty of indoor fishing; it's how it connects urban dwellers to food sourcing. Most Hong Kong residents buy seafood from markets or restaurants. Here, you catch your own dinner, understanding the effort involved in bringing fresh food to the table.

The caught crustaceans can be prepared on-site or taken home. Either way, you eat knowing exactly where your food came from and how much effort it took to catch it.

Summary: HA Cube provides indoor crustacean fishing experiences that connect urban residents to food sourcing.

The Ten Thousand Buddhas Monastery in Sha Tin houses exactly what its name promises: thousands of Buddha statues, each with unique expressions and poses. But the real experience isn't counting statue; it's the challenging hike to reach the monastery and the surprising finds along the way.

The climb starts innocuously enough, with a paved path leading uphill through residential areas. But as you ascend, the path becomes steeper, the surroundings wilder, and the Buddha statues more numerous. They line the pathway like silent guides, each one slightly different from the last.

The monastery itself sits at the summit, offering views across Sha Tin and the surrounding mountains. But the reward isn't just the destination, it's understanding how the journey itself becomes part of the spiritual experience. Each Buddha statue you pass represents a step in contemplation, a moment of reflection during the physical effort of climbing.

The hike takes about forty-five minutes going up, depending on your fitness level and how often you stop to examine the statues. The descent is faster but requires careful attention, the path can be slippery, especially after rain.

Summary: Ten Thousand Buddhas Monastery combines physical challenge with spiritual contemplation through a statue-lined hiking experience.

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Kuk Po, an abandoned village in the New Territories, offers a glimpse into Hong Kong's rural past. Once home to a thriving population, the village was gradually abandoned as residents moved to urban areas for better opportunities. Now nature has slowly reclaimed the structures, creating landscapes that feel both ancient and immediate.

The village sits near the border with China, accessible by a day trip that combines hiking with historical exploration. The remaining buildings tell stories of rural life: traditional courtyard houses, communal spaces, agricultural terraces carved into hillsides.

What makes Kuk Po remarkable isn't its abandonment, it's how clearly you can read the village's history in its remains. You can trace family compounds, understand how the community was organized, see where residents grew their food and raised their animals.

The hike to Kuk Po requires good shoes and adequate water, especially during Hong Kong's hot summer months. The path isn't always well-marked, so carrying a map or GPS device is essential. The journey takes about two hours each way from the nearest public transportation.

The village itself invites quiet exploration. Unlike tourist attractions, there are no guided tours, no information plaques, no designated viewing areas. You're free to wander, to sit in what used to be someone's kitchen, to imagine daily life in rural Hong Kong.

Summary: Kuk Po offers unguided exploration of abandoned village life in Hong Kong's rural past.

Kowloon Walled Park sits on the site of the former Kowloon Walled enclave, once known for its unique and chaotic urban environment. The park preserves some original structures while creating gardens and ponds that offer glimpses into this fascinating past.

The Walled enclave was demolished in the 1990s, but the park maintains several original buildings: the Yamen (administrative office), sections of the old wall, and archaeological remains that show how densely people lived in this lawless territory.

Walking through the park requires imagination. The peaceful gardens and carefully maintained ponds bear little resemblance to the cramped, vertical neighborhood that once existed here. But the preserved structures help you understand how the enclave functioned: how residents organized their lives, how businesses worked, how community formed in seemingly impossible conditions.

The park includes informational displays explaining the Walled enclave's history, but the real education comes from examining the remaining structures. You can see how thick the walls were, how small the living spaces were, and how ingeniously residents adapted to extreme density.

The best time to visit is early morning, when the gardens are less crowded and you can spend time examining the historical remains without fighting for space.

Summary: Kowloon Walled Park preserves remnants of Hong Kong's most notorious urban enclave within peaceful gardens.

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Dim Sum in Unexpected Places

The best dim sum in Hong Kong often appears in locations that don't look like restaurants. I'm talking about tea houses hidden in residential buildings, vendors operating from modified shopping trolleys, family-run operations that serve food from their living rooms.

These dim sum experiences challenge every assumption about restaurant dining. There are no menus, you eat whatever the cook prepared that morning. There's no décor, you're often sitting in spaces that serve multiple purposes throughout the day. There's no English, you point, smile, and trust that the food will be worth the communication challenge.

Finding these places requires local connections or careful observation. Look for crowds of elderly residents gathering around unmarked doorways. Follow the smell of steaming food emanating from residential buildings. Notice when the same trolley appears at the same corner every morning.

Summary: Hong Kong's best dim sum often comes from unofficial vendors and family operations in residential settings.

The Star Ferry experience changes dramatically during off-peak hours. Early morning and late evening crossings gives you a look at Victoria Harbour's different personalities: calm waters reflecting dawn light, or evening crossings where the harbor lights create moving patterns across the water.

I prefer the 6 AM crossing from Tsim Sha Tsui to Central. The passengers are locals heading to work rather than tourists collecting experiences. The ferry captains navigate with practiced efficiency, and regular passengers have established routines: preferred seats, familiar conversations, shared newspapers.

The remarkable thing about off-peak Star Ferry rides isn't reduced crowds, it's experiencing the ferry as transportation rather than attraction. You understand why this service has operated for over a century, how it fits into Hong Kong's urban vibe, why residents continue choosing ferries over faster tunnel options.

The evening crossings offer different insights. As daylight fades, the harbor turns into a show of urban lighting. Office buildings become geometric patterns of illuminated windows. The water reflects neon signs and traffic lights, creating abstract art that changes with every wave.

Summary: Off-peak Star Ferry rides lets you enjoy the harbor's different moods and the ferry's role as genuine transportation.

Hong Kong's network of covered walkways and pedestrian bridges creates an elevated territory that most visitors never fully explore. These bridges connect shopping centers, office buildings, and transportation hubs, allowing pedestrians to travel miles without touching street level.

The system spans from International Finance Centre to Causeway Bay; a journey that takes about ninety minutes of steady walking. But the remarkable thing isn't the distance, it's how the elevated perspective shows off Hong Kong's three-dimensional urban planning.

From pedestrian bridges, you observe the territory from angles that don't exist at ground level or high-rise windows. You're above street traffic but below office workers. You can see into second-story windows, watch rooftop activities, understand how Hong Kong's vertical development actually functions.

The walk requires comfortable shoes and occasional navigation skills, the system includes complex intersections where multiple bridges converge. But it's the best way to understand how Hong Kong moves people through space, how the territory maximizes every available dimension for urban life.

Summary: Hong Kong's elevated walkway system offers unique perspectives on three-dimensional urban design.

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July Heat and Underground Networks

September brings typhoon season to Hong Kong. While most tourists avoid visiting during these months, experiencing how the territory prepares for and responds to major storms reveals something essential about Hong Kong's community coordination.

I don't recommend seeking dangerous weather conditions. But if you happen to visit Hong Kong during typhoon season, the remarkable experience isn't the storm itself, it's watching how eight million people coordinate their behavior when circumstances require it.

When typhoon warnings are issued, the entire territory changes. Shops close in coordinated fashion, public transportation adjusts schedules, residents secure their homes and check on neighbors.

During calm periods between storm bands, residents venture out to share food supplies, check on elderly neighbors, and maintain social connections that keep communities intact. These moments perfectly shows off Hong Kong's social infrastructure, the networks of mutual support that exist beneath the surface of urban anonymity.

Summary: Typhoon season shows you Hong Kong's remarkable community coordination and social support systems.

July in Hong Kong brings temperatures that make outdoor exploration uncomfortable for most visitors. But it also shows Hong Kong's underground network, climate-controlled passages connecting subway stations, shopping centers, office buildings, and restaurants.

These underground passages create a parallel territory existing entirely in air-conditioned comfort. During heat waves, you can spend entire days underground: eating meals, shopping, conducting business, socializing without ever feeling the oppressive humidity that blankets the surface.

The remarkable thing about Hong Kong's underground network isn't its existence, many urban areas have similar systems. It's how completely it functions as alternative infrastructure. You can meet people who spend their entire working lives underground, moving between subway commutes, office buildings, and lunch restaurants without stepping into natural light.

The underground network includes surprising amenities: art galleries, performance spaces, meditation areas, even small parks with artificial lighting systems that simulate natural daylight. These spaces serve residents who prefer controlled environments to Hong Kong's intense tropical climate.

Summary: Hong Kong's underground network provides comprehensive climate-controlled alternatives during summer heat.

Safety and Cultural Sensitivity

Every experience I've described requires basic safety awareness and cultural sensitivity. When exploring abandoned villages, tell someone your plans and carry emergency supplies. When trying indoor fishing, understand that live animals require respectful handling. When visiting hyperreality facilities, follow safety protocols designed to protect you and the equipment.

Most importantly, recognize that these experiences often involve communities and traditions that exist independently of tourism. Approach them with respect, ask permission before photographing people, learn basic Cantonese phrases, understand that you're a guest in someone else's daily life.

The Long-Term Perspective

Before seeking these experiences, prepare practically. Download offline maps for abandoned village hikes. Research facility hours for places like HA Cube and Sandbox VR. Carry adequate funds in cash, since many experiences happen in locations that don't accept credit cards.

Prepare mentally for experiences that challenge assumptions about what tourism should feel like. Indoor crustacean fishing isn't immediately Instagram-worthy. Hyperreality experiences can be genuinely disorienting. Abandoned villages require imagination to appreciate fully.

The best experiences in Hong Kong can happen over time. You can't appreciate the city's complexity during a single visit. Each trip builds on previous trips, each conversation leads to more conversations, each location suggests more locations worth investigating.

Think of Hong Kong exploration as an ongoing relationship rather than a completed transaction. The territory changes constantly; new facilities open, old villages decay further, communities adapt to changing circumstances. What you discover during one visit might not exist during your next visit, but new experiences will have emerged.

The unusual things to do in Hong Kong aren't activities you check off lists. They're opportunities to engage with a territory that operates according to multiple logics simultaneously: ancient traditions and cutting-edge technology, dense urban development and forgotten rural spaces, international influences and distinctly local adaptations.

Hong Kong rewards visitors who approach it as a conversation partner rather than a tourist destination. The city responds to genuine curiosity, respectful attention, and willingness to spend time understanding rather than just experiencing.

Whether you're catching crustaceans indoors, battling virtual pirates, hiking to abandoned villages, or exploring underground networks during typhoon season, you're participating in Hong Kong's ongoing experiment in urban living. The territory doesn't just offer unusual experiences, it challenges visitors to reconsider what constitutes normal, possible, or necessary in urban life.

That's what makes Hong Kong experiences special: how it changes visitors who give it full attention into people who understand that the best travel experiences happen when you stop trying to collect them and start trying to understand what they reveal about human adaptability, creativity, and community.

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