4th May 2025 – (Hong Kong) A recent survey by Junior Chamber International Hong Kong reveals that 41% of international visitors now prioritise the city’s mist-shrouded hiking trails, volcanic geoparks, and turquoise coastal reserves over its shopping malls and Michelin-starred dim sum. This seismic shift in tourist preferences—mirrored by 80% of overseas travellers flocking to Sai Kung’s dramatic coastlines—positions eco-tourism as Hong Kong’s unexpected ace against regional rivals like Singapore, where concrete jungles still dominate tourism blueprints. Yet as crowds swarm High Island Reservoir’s East Dam, leaving beaches strewn with abandoned tents and plastic waste, a pressing question emerges: Can Hong Kong harness its natural treasures without replicating Bali’s self-destructive overtourism playbook?
The Development Bureau’s April 2025 proposal to transform Lamma Island’s disused quarry—a 25-hectare scar of industrial history—into a “high-end lakefront resort” with a 200-berth superyacht marina epitomises this green pivot. Once a symbol of Hong Kong’s extractive past, the site now promises luxury villages nestled beside a rehabilitated five-hectare lake, framed by regenerated hillsides. For Permanent Secretary Doris Ho, this isn’t mere real estate alchemy: “We’re creating a template where developers profit through conservation, not despite it,” she asserts, referencing requirements for environmental impact assessments and mandated public infrastructure. Critics, however, smell opportunism. Greenpeace’s Ha Shun-kuen warns, “Without strict carrying capacity limits, these projects risk becoming enclaves for the ultra-wealthy, with ‘eco’ merely a marketing gimmick.” The precedent is troubling: 2012’s abandoned quarry plan failed due to poor accessibility, yet the 2025 revival hinges on private developers funding roads and sewage systems—a burden that historically deters long-term ecological stewardship.
The Labour Day crowds at High Island Reservoir East Dam laid bare the tensions. Over 3,000 daily visitors—many mainland Chinese tourists drawn by Instagram’s sapphire waters and hexagonal basalt columns—overwhelmed the area. Green Earth’s Vivien Cheng documented tents colonising MacLehose Trail Section 2, trash clogging Ham Tin Beach, and a glaring absence of waste management. “This isn’t eco-tourism; it’s love-bombing by nature enthusiasts who don’t realise their footprint,” Cheng laments. Yet the government’s response—increased shuttle buses and ad-hoc clean-up crews—feels reactive. Contrast this with Singapore’s regulated access to Sisters’ Islands Marine Park, where visitor caps and pre-booked guided tours prevent degradation. Hong Kong’s laissez-faire approach risks transforming Sai Kung into Bali’s Kuta Beach 2.0: a once-pristine paradise drowning in its own popularity.
Hong Kong’s 300km trail network, particularly the “Big Four” (Maclehose, Wilson, Hong Kong, and Lantau), has become an unlikely economic engine. The survey notes 40% of tourists specifically seek these routes, fueling a boom in guided trekking services, gear rentals, and trailside cafes. Local guide Tommy Wong shares, “Pre-pandemic, 70% of my clients were expats. Now, 60% are mainlanders—they want ‘wild China’ without the bureaucracy of Tibet permits.” However, Bali’s Mount Batur serves as a cautionary tale. Once a serene sunrise hike, it now sees 4,000 daily climbers, eroding paths and overwhelming villages. Hong Kong’s trails, while better maintained, already show stress: soil erosion on Dragon’s Back, illegal camping in Plover Cove. The government’s solution? A public-private “Trail Sustainability Fund” launched in March 2025, funded by a 2% levy on hiking tour operators. Early critics argue it’s a plaster on a bullet wound.
While Singapore dazzles with Marina Bay Sands and Orchard Road, its eco-tourism offerings remain anaemic. Pulau Ubin’s rustic charm and Sungei Buloh Wetland Reserve lack the scale to compete. Hong Kong, conversely, boasts 40% land designated as country parks—a statistic the tourism board now weaponises. Hong Kong is not just a shopping paradise. Our geoparks rival Iceland’s, our biodiversity matches Costa Rica’s. This divergence creates a niche. Luxury travel agency WildChina reports a 212% surge in Hong Kong eco-itinerary bookings among European clients since 2023. “They’ll do a morning market tour in Central, then kayak through Lai Chi Wo’s mangroves by afternoon—it’s the urban-wild dichotomy they crave,” says CEO Mei Zhang.
The government’s “blue tourism” push—developing coastal areas like Pak Nai’s mudflats and South Lantau’s Cheung Sha—faces choppy waters. The plan envisions boardwalks through biodiverse intertidal zones, paired with eco-resorts. These areas nurse juvenile fish and migratory birds. One misstep and we’ll repeat Dubai’s Palm Jumeirah disaster, where coastal developments decimated marine life.
To preempt overtourism, Hong Kong is piloting smart solutions. From May 2025, the “HK Eco Pass” app uses real-time GPS data to divert hikers from overcrowded trails to lesser-known gems like Pat Sin Leng. Augmented reality (AR) tours at Tai O’s stilt houses let visitors “see” 19th-century salt farms without physical intrusion. But as Bali learned with its failed digital nomad tax, tech alone isn’t a panacea. Hong Kong must couple innovation with old-school regulation: capped entries, timed tickets for geoparks, and stringent penalties for littering—measures currently lacking.
The survey’s finding—33.5% of locals don’t know Sai Kung hosts a UNESCO Global Geopark—reveals a branding failure. Meanwhile, developers eyeing Lamma’s quarry prioritise luxury housing over eco-lodges. To avoid Bali’s fate, Hong Kong must legislate carrying capacities informed by ecological studies, monetise conservation by redirecting tourism revenues to fund ranger teams, engage locals as stakeholders through tax incentives for eco-B&Bs, and adopt Singapore’s strict anti-littering fines paired with Norway’s “Leave No Trace” education. As environmental lawyer Amanda Whitfort notes, “Hong Kong’s Country Parks Ordinance hasn’t had a major update since 1996. We’re fighting 21st-century crowds with last-century laws.”
