Kayaking in placid Double Haven, far from Hong Kong’s bustle and crowds

The map showed an idyllic patch of water hemmed in by parkland islands. I could see small coves and passages, the perfect place to explore in a kayak. Its name, Double Haven, completed the tranquil image.

But we’re not there yet. First, having set off from Tan Ka Wan on the Sai Kung peninsula, we have to cross the lumpy, grey seas of Tolo Channel, our kayaks bobbing in the waves as we wait for a ship to pass. Then we round Wong Chuk Kok Tsui, where hikers scrambling along the rocky shore to get to the Devil’s Fist shout and wave at us as we paddle by.

We land on Tung Wan for lunch, where my paddling partner, on her first big kayaking trip, slumps down onto a rock, exhausted.

“Is the whole trip going to be like this? With wind and waves? This cold?”

I make reassuring sounds and promise better conditions ahead, but I’m not sure what to expect. After an hour of shivering on the beach and gulping hot tea from a thermos I cajole her back into her kayak. We point the boats through the narrow gap between Crescent and Double Islands and enter a whole different world.

Double Haven lies spread out before us, unfurled like an old Chinese scroll painting, complete with overlapping hills that disappear into the blue haze. The water is calm, like an inland lake. The sun comes out, turning greys into greens and blues, the light catching the silver flash of a jumping fish.