Erikka Askeland: Most modern of cities with deepest of roots

The soaring banyan tree, whose trunk looks as of it is fused out of thick ropes, was planted in 1870, when the site was occupied by British military barracks. Now it is the site of a 50-storey luxury hotel, but there must have been some serious pressure to cause the developers to shell out HK$25 million (£1.9m) to ensure the fig tree’s deep roots remained safe.

Yet the tree is an unusual memento as the residents of this small territory off the mainland of China seem mainly unsentimental about its historic claptrap. On Hong Kong island, the tightness of space has caused its buildings to squeeze ever upwards, creating its distinctive and dramatic skyline. A few years ago, some residents mounted a series of protests that verged on violence as the local authorities proposed to scrap the Queen’s Pier – a ceremonial arrival and departure spot for the former governor – while they also fought to save from demolition the Edinburgh Place ferry pier, with its distinctive clock tower.

But as time moves on so does the city, and now the Victoria Harbour is a building site of a new public space, a relative rarity in one of the world’s most densely populated regions. But the protesters have moved on – the debate now is whether or not the promenade should feature a giant ferris wheel. The opponents argue that since London and Shanghai already have one, it would look as if the city was doing a “me too”, and the residents of Hong Kong like more than anything to consider themselves distinct from both their rival on the mainland and its former colonial governors.

But if British expats here are concerned to see their influence wane, I don’t meet them. Hong Kong is filled with foreigners, including a large contingent of Scots. The ones I have met are all working hard, and enjoying the benefits of living in one of the most prosperous cities in the world.

Sure, there are worries. In the muggy heat of August, thick smog blurs the hills that range behind the Kowloon peninsula into an indistinct wash of diluted ink. It could be due to the recent typhoon off of Taiwan, although most fear it is due to pollution coming from the thousands of factories on the Pearl River delta. Getting children into the teeming schools is also an issue, but most seem to get by. Most rent rather than buy, as property is brutally expensive – even for the top salaries on offer to expats.

But despite the city’s ever developing, ever modernising mind-set, there is still evidence of the links to the UK and Scotland everywhere. There’s Argyle Street in Kowloon and Aberdeen harbour. A saltire flies when the noon day gun is fired, a tradition established by Jardine Matheson, a company founded by Scots in 1832 and now one of the world’s largest multi-national conglomerates – its dark ties with the opium trade long behind it.

The newest touch of tartan is a rugby team, the Hong Kong Scottish. One of Hong Kong Rugby’s directors is Robbie McRobbie, whose parents live in Gullane. A former Hong Kong police officer, he gets his haggis from a deli in Central, while his children are learning Mandarin at school. But while he calls Scotland home, he seems to be in no rush to go back. Here there is a St Andrews Society, and a pub called the Canny Man, run by another Scot. There you can find Belhaven on tap and Macsween’s haggis.

But aside from a trio who have come in for a quick Irn-Bru, the place is empty on a Wednesday night while the rest of the city is buzzing.

Many expats speak about the prospect of fresh arrivals from home. Jason Cheung, who looks like a local until he begins speaking in a broad Glasgow accent, says how all of his friends who studied in Scotland are doing brilliantly, but the ones who stayed are not.

Scots have always been international in outlook. The history of Scots, written in the streets and squares of Hong Kong, is set to be written again.