“Excuse me, bai bai,” I say as the old man looks up from his work with the air of an ancient dragon that was busy admiring his hoard of gems. This is no ancient dragon though, this is Mr Ho and the object he is so carefully handling with his gnarly fingers is not a precious gem, but someone’s broken umbrella.

Mr. Ho, affectionately known as “The Umbrella Man”, has been working from his shack at the top of the dangerously steep Peel Street for more than 70 years. His shack is really little more than a small metal cabin that opens up and is extended by a number of ropes tying down a cheap plastic red white and blue awning to provide shade for the Umbrella Man from Hong Kong’s often unpredictable weather. Against its modest appearances, Mr Ho’s shack is decorated with a number of brightly coloured community awards and certificates of recognition, as well as laminated newspaper clippings of his star appearances in the local media.

Mr Ho readily confesses to his humble beginnings, “There is no shame in telling you, but I never had much of an education,” he says, his gaze on the broken umbrella in his lap, “But I still managed to get a job at an umbrella factory as a scribe. After I struck out on my own, I simply took to the practical side of the trade I was working in, rather than the theoretical side.” And he’s done pretty well for himself - he says that business over the past 70 years has remained consistent and when asked whether he still gets a lot of business today, he chuckles over my silly question, “Well take a look for yourself! There are so many umbrellas here I don’t have space for them anymore!”

He takes a moment to look up from his work and blinks at me with a hidden smile that reaches his eyes and makes them sparkle with pride, “You know I brought up nine sons with this business. Not all of them help me out here much, but I don’t care - I always wanted better things for them.”

That feat alone is impressive, but what’s more impressive is the thought that this old man - who is probably well into his eighties if not early nineties - makes his way to work here every day from Sham Shui Po. Surely he could have set up a business closer to home?

“See, I’m superstitious,” he says. “When I first set up this business, I believed that the Feng Shui was good here as there weren’t any tall buildings hovering over this spot.” However, he admits that urban developments over the past seven decades don’t seem to have affected the Feng Shui much, despite the numerous buildings that now surround the umbrella shack. “Actually, I think I’m busier than ever now!” he laughs and returns with a dedicated smile to his work.