By Christl Dabu

You could say Hong Kong made me a convert. Sensational round-the-clock sales of brand-name goods, the nicest clothes and cool gadgets sans sales tax found in gleaming, futuristic malls and shops were too tantalizing to resist, even for someone as clueless about fashion as I am. Hong Kong's alluring sales had an almost sinister hold on me that I vowed that upon my return to Beijing, I would cut my credit card.

But even in what arguably is the uber-capital of commercialism, I pleasantly found a more inspiring side to the city. A startling paradox to the monstrous towers of Central and the daily march of the zombie-like "shopaholics," Hong Kong is actually nearly three quarters pristine, undeveloped terrain.

It was once a string of fishing villages. After the Qing empire lost the First Opium War (1840-42), the Qing government and Britain signed the Treaty of Nanjing in 1842 when the British started its official occupation of Hong Kong.

In modern-day Hong Kong, I found myself strangely moving interchangeably between two contrasting worlds.

In the same day on weekends, I could hike the scenic trails along the sea or soak up some rays at the beach while later jumping on a ferry, bus or subway to do another kind of hiking trawling the streets and malls for the latest sales at Causeway Bay or Tsim Sha Tsui.

Part of Hong Kong's charm is the Star Ferry crossing the harbour and the HK$2-fare "ding dings" (century-old trams that are a classic Hong Kong icon), the cute little shops sprinkled in slim sloping streets, and manicured little parks wedged between buildings.

Still, I was eager to head for nature's trails. Normally (and shamefully) a couch potato back in North America the land of shopping, fast food and celebrity obsessions I had shockingly become a convert in another way after living abroad. I had discovered I loved what lies beyond my neighbourhood mall and movie theatre.