The pier was shared by both the Communist and the Hong Kong authorities. One side each, the pier head being reserved for government vessels of either side .The border followed the line of a deep storm drain which split the village in two. Traversing the numerous bridges, some of them no more than a couple of planks, the villagers took absolutely no notice of the border and carried on with their daily lives in complete disregard of all around them. My first visit to the village was from the sea and on reaching the landward end of the pier I looked about for the union Jack and saw it diagonally to my right – No one had told me the drain took a dogleg through the village so I confidently set of over a stone bridge toward the flag

On the other side of the bridge stood a soldier wearing combats and a soft cap, it was only when he turned that I saw the red star and his rifle. The look on my face must have been a picture; in any event he broke with Chinese etiquette by bursting into laughter and leaning against a wall for support. I for my part backed off the bridge and beat a hasty retreat.

Apparently some weeks later the Infantry, changing Border guards by boat, came through the village one of them being an exceedingly tall guy who towered over his colleagues and the locals, the following week the Chinese had found a tall guy for their side just to keep face.