It was trendy, it was fashionable - it was the Cyberport. The Cyberport is Hong Kong's answer to the computer revolution. It is a futuristic, expansive complex that cost more than $2 billion in U.S. dollars. It is the grand vision of Tung Chee Wa, Hong Kong's chief executive and the first person to rule after the territory was returned to China. He sees the Cyberport as a chance to solidify Hong Kong as "Asia's World City."
The Hong Kong media, however, has been merciless in its criticism, assailing the project as an embarrassing failure for the government. Office space has been selling slowly, and the government is in danger of losing money on the project. Articles claim the government awarded contracts to cronies and businessmen with connections, and sacrificed a large section of Hong Kong's harbor front.
I decided that I needed to know which side was telling the truth. I boarded a bus, laptop in my shoulder bag, in a quest to find out.
There was a reason I had not been to the Cyberport: it is not centrally located. Tucked away on the west side of the island, it is nearly 30 minutes from Hong Kong University, and almost an hour from parts of the main business district.
En route I passed a project that exemplified what Cyberport was supposed to be. There were seven looming concrete towers, all in various stages of construction. It was the future home of Bel Air on the Peak.
A fence around the property showed pictures of boats, southern colonial buildings, and cars, all with a fancy "BA" logo superimposed on them. Though months away from completion, these high-rises are almost completely sold out, at a rate of $1,500 per square foot. They all come with high-speed broadband connections and a commanding view of the harbor.
I arrived in the actual Cyberport at about 3 p.m. on a Monday, but it was almost deserted. It was eerie to see such a large complex with only a few people around.
I followed the signs for Le Meridien Hong Kong. I was intrigued by the use of French. The building turned out to be the Cyberport's deluxe hotel and restaurant, with $50-a-plate eateries and $1,000-a-night rooms.
The signs also marked the entrance to a massive courtyard. Suddenly, a group of an equal amount of Asian and Caucasian men in business suits milled around the courtyard: Hewlett Packard was hosting a two-day conference on software.
I spotted a coffee shop, went inside, and ordered a bagel and cream cheese - which was a surprisingly cheap $1.50. That is when I met Michael, who was working behind the counter - and that is also when the difficulties began.
I asked the server if there was wireless Internet available (the place was called the Cyberport, after all). He conferred with a female associate, who then in turn told me, "There is wireless in the entire Cyberport; you can certainly log on."
As I powered on my laptop, I was prompted to join the wireless network "Cybernet." Suddenly, a screen appeared that said I was trying to access a wireless network and that I would need a screen name, password and $7 per hour to continue.
Michael came over, looked confused, and ran right out to find a tech person. He was gone for about 10 minutes. Upon returning, he said, "I'm sorry, sir, but the wireless is maintained here by NOC [Network Operations Center]. I asked the guard to give me the access number, and he will be right over."
Ten more minutes passed before he came back. He apologized, but said the cafe had not joined the wireless server yet.
I was puzzled and pressed Michael a little further. He had been at the cafe for six months, since the building opened. He explained that the large screen was turned on every day at lunchtime, so the employees could eat outside and watch business news.
The Cyberport was nice, he said, but boring. Most of the offices were still not occupied. There was not much traffic at the cafe. He said he hopes that things will change when the complex fills up, especially when the last office building opens this summer.
Michael again apologized for the lack of Internet, and suggested I try the caf?©'s other locations downtown, or the Starbucks down the street.
I left Michael and continued my exploration of the Cyberport. It was very impressive. There was a large, conical lobby that resembled the queue for Space Mountain at Disney World. There was a food court, but there was also an "IT Court." Everything was decorated to make sure it seemed ultra-modern.
But the luster of the Cyberport cannot last. Just like the units at the Bel Air, its demand is at its highest before completion. In five or 10 years, the Cyberport will probably be just another office park and apartment complex.
For now, though, the Cyberport is state-of-the-art. I am glad I took in the ambience while it was still fashionable, even if it meant a Cyberport with no wireless.
