The pops emanating from my back sound like firecrackers exploding. “Your muscles are very tight. You have too much cold in your body,” says Sibyl, my massage therapist at the Banyan Tree Macau, as she bears her full weight down on my back until it feels like my ribs might crack. Chinese massages are hardcore – in local places, bars are often strung above tables to allow therapists to literally walk all over you. Let out a groan, and they will likely apply more pressure. The best therapists, like Sybil, can whip you into a weirdly relaxing, almost trance-like state while pummelling every knot into submission. She adds that I should try cupping, the suction treatment made famous by Gwyneth Paltrow at a 2004 movie premiere and first recorded in the ledgers of Taoist herbalist Ge Hong almost 2,000 years ago.
Cupping, acupuncture, reflexology, scraping, moxibustion and bone-setting are all a part of everyday life in Hong Kong, where I have lived most of my life alongside some of the oldest people on the planet. Mysteriously, this city of seven million citizens doesn’t appear among the five Blue Zone regions where people live exceedingly long lives – Okinawa, Japan; Sardinia, Italy; Nicoya, Costa Rica; Ikaria, Greece; Loma Linda, California – despite overtaking Japan since the early 2000s to top the global life expectancy charts (until the Hong Kong government botched its response to Covid in 2022).
The city’s economic prosperity, an almost-free public healthcare system and low smoking rates all play a part, yet this is also a high-stress, often polluted environment with an egregious wealth gap and a hyper-inflated property market, as well as one of the most densely populated places on Earth. Neither does Hong Kong fit with the “five pillars” of the Blue Zone diet, which include plentiful whole grains, greens, beans and root vegetables. Hongkongers eat their fair share of veg and steamed dishes, but they also pack away 136kg of pork, beef and chicken per person each year (about eight kilos more than Americans) – yet the life expectancy for men and women here remains among the world’s highest at 82 and 88 years respectively. So what’s their secret? Experts suspect a number of factors, such as staying active, regular socialising, and, intriguingly, drinking tea.
Exercising is a social activity with no stigma attached to throwing some moves in public. It’s common to see people of all ages exercising here: kids heading to class in their kung fu kits, middle-aged ladies stretching their legs on pavement fences, and ancient joggers plodding through parks that frequently have outdoor gym equipment. Subsidised sports clubs are in every neighbourhood, making lawn bowls, social dancing or playing in the elderly football league accessible to all. There are more than 130 hiking trails across 400 miles of protected green space, where I’m often overtaken by packs of cheerful old ladies. More often than not, these trails lead to pretty public beaches – and where there’s water, I guarantee there’s an old man in Speedos bending and flexing before front-crawling along the coast. This openness is most apparent in the widespread practice of tai chi, the slow-motion martial art that is extremely popular with pensioners, who gather each morning in shaded public spaces. It's a practice that Harvard Medical School says makes “a compelling case as an adjunct to standard medical treatment for the prevention and rehabilitation of many conditions commonly associated with age”.
For Hongkongers, it’s all about bringing their yin and yang elements into harmony. “Chinese medicine is mainly about balance – with time, with the seasons, and with yourself,” says Judy Xu, life coach, breath work expert and founder of Balance Health, a chic holistic clinic in the heart of Central that treats affluent locals alongside its fair share of curious Westerners. “Chinese medicine is very personalised and starts with assessing your body type. Some people might have too much yin energy, others might have too much yang energy.” There are nine different body types in total, but on a basic level Judy explains that yin is associated with the night, water and cooling. Yin properties are said to decline in menopausal women making them “heaty” and prone to hot flushes, night sweats and vaginal dryness. Symptoms might be alleviated with cooling foods – pears, mushrooms, duck and fish – as well as stretching, nature walks and tai chi to get that vital qi energy moving. Yang is associated with daytime, light and fire, and a deficiency might present as cold hands and feet, difficulty sleeping and a regular upset tummy. These types need to do more powerful yang exercises such as running or weight training, and they should eat warming food such as lamb, beef, berries and ginger.
Acupuncture, foot reflexology and traditional Chinese massages are also employed to maintain a state of equilibrium, as are herbal teas. “Many of our customers come here every day at the same time to order the same cup of herbal tea,” says university student Ivy Lee, whose family runs Hua Li Yuan Tea on a busy corner of Jordan Road in Kowloon. Their beverages can be used as remedies for colds, sore throats and period pains, but broadly form part of a 24-season calendar designating different health-giving drinks across the year, much like taking seasonal vitamins. In Hua Li Yuan’s open shopfront, stalks of sugarcane simmer in a vat and clay urns bubble with ominous-looking black liquids, which are drunk on the spot or bottled and kept warm for customers who prefer to grab and go. Some of the most popular include Five Flower to clear heat and improve eyesight; Hedyotis Diffusa to reduce swelling and heal acne; and Red Date to prolong life.
I order a paper cup of 24 Flavours tea, a popular daily elixir for the old, hangover cure for the young and source of heat for my positively frosty muscles. Ivy says the younger generation are scared of the bitter flavours so she adds special ingredients to make her herbal teas (which don’t come from factories) easier to drink. The Lee family make fresh batches every night using their great-great-grandfather’s secret recipes, updated for modern palates. In the back Uncle Sheng dunks carrier-sized tea bags into steel drums of brackish-looking water that smells like a summer’s field of sweet fruit and fresh flowers laced with spice. My inky tea is smooth, honied and fragrant. I take three bottles home with me and resolve to add a daily cuppa to the other Hong Kong habits I’ve acquired over the years. Together, they should get me in the zone – not the Blue Zone, but the Hong Kong Zone.
Balance Health
This contemporary holistic clinic is on the 27th floor of an office block and combines TCM (Traditional Chinese Medicine) practices such as acupuncture and moxibustion (a mugwort-based heat therapy) with intense breathwork, shamanic healing and life coaching. Their blog provides tips on hot topics including improving fertility and reducing anxiety.
Address: 27/F Universal Trade Centre, 3 Arbuthnot Road, Central, Hong Kong; +852 2530 3315,
Website: balancehealth.com
Hua Li Yuan Tea
Herbal teas are a daily pick-me-up in Hong Kong, with traditional and modern herbal tea shops to be found in almost every neighbourhood. Unlike many of its contemporaries, who have shipments delivered from Mainland China, Hua Li Yuan makes fresh batches every night using ingredients supplied by artisanal herbalists. The latest generation of the Li family are also working to reduce plastic by introducing reusable cups and bottles.
Address: G/F Booman House, 37 Jordan Road, Kowloon, Hong Kong
Chiu Sing Nam
This traditional bone-setters is run by a family of qualified TCM doctors who have been twisting limbs and cracking necks in Sai Ying Pun for more than 50 years. The interiors are straight out of a Wong Kar-wai film: geometric green and white floor tiles, carved rosewood chairs, a golden Taoist shrine, black and white photographs of long-gone ancestors. A visit can relieve deep-rooted aches and pains such as frozen shoulder or repetitive strain. The clinic also makes its own healing oils to take home.
Address: 367 Queen’s Road, Sai Ying Pun, Hong Kong; +852 2546 7867
Gao’s Foot Massage
As the name suggests this place specialises in foot reflexology, although body massages, cupping and gua sha scraping are also available. Foot massages are generally a communal experience and Gao’s dimly lit rooms are lined with big comfy chairs filled with people in various stages of drowsiness. Treatments begin with a neck and shoulder rub while feet soak in buckets of hot herbal water, before moving on to a no-pain, no-gain foot massage (there’s no shame in asking for a lighter touch). The blade-flashing Shanghai pedicure is the way to go for baby-soft tootsies.
Address: 3/F Man Hing Commercial Building, 79-83 Queen’s Road, Central, Hong Kong
Tai Pan Reflexology Parlour
Open until midnight, Tai Pan is a fancier version of your local foot massage joint, with glamorous interiors that hark back to 1930s Shanghai – carved-wood moon gates, stained glass screens, neon signs and red velvet loungers. Alongside foot and body massages, you can try another Hong Kong favourite: ear candling, which uses lit candles to draw out ear wax while soothing facial muscles for a surprisingly relaxing experience.
Address: Basement, 83 Nathan Road, Tsim Sha Tsui, Kowloon, Hong Kong; +852 2301 1990
Website: taipanreflexologyparlour.com