Outside, the temperature in Hong Kong is a scorching 33°C or more, with the humidity turned up to max. My glasses immediately start fogging up every time I venture outdoors. I am wearing my finest, lightweight linen top and trousers, ready to battle the damp heat. Yet, packed inside my canvas tote bag is my ultimate summer secret weapon: a heavy, woollen, oversized cardigan. For any expat in Hong Kong, this may sound like madness, but surviving the city’s summer heat means preparing for the indoor winter that awaits inside the establishments.
To the uninitiated tourist or newbie, carrying knitwear around in summer will seem like absolute madness. But to any young professional or long-termer living in this city, it is a vital survival tool.
Hong Kong is a city of two extreme climates operating simultaneously. Step out of your flat, and you are faced with stuffy, extreme humidity and tropical temperatures. Step inside an office tower, a mall, an MTR carriage, or basically anywhere that has the air-con blasting, and you are instantly transported to the Arctic tundra.
Nobody warns you about having to survive the cold before you move here. The common understanding amongst residents seems to be that if the air-conditioning isn’t actively generating frostbite, the thermostat isn’t set low enough. The places with the most consistently freezing AC that I’ve encountered include: my local supermarket, the public library, the bank, and my office building.
My typical workday is a game of thermal whiplash. My morning speed-walk to the station usually culminates in me perspiring way more than I would like, and desperately fanning myself to try to avoid ugly sweat stains on my crisp office attire. Once inside the MTR, the initial AC chill always feels like a welcome respite, until I end up sneezing from the drastic change in temperature. By the time I enter my office, my fingers are starting to turn blue. I watch as my colleagues – all sharply dressed professionals – pull on puffy down vests and fleece hoodies, and drape cashmere scarves over their corporate wear. We look like an expedition team preparing to cross Antarctica.
Navigating this indoor winter requires lived-in experience. You learn to strategically choose restaurant tables that do not sit directly beneath the ceiling vents, where the wind speeds can rival a Signal 8 typhoon. You know exactly which cinemas require you to bring a literal blanket just to enjoy a two-hour movie blockbuster without getting hypothermia. And you map out your entire day’s journey in advance so you can pack the most appropriate indoor-outer-wear for the occasion.
Surviving summer here has less to do with sunscreen or hydration (although those are important), and more about tactical layering. It is a daily battle that keeps us on our toes, but, in the grand scheme of things, it’s a battle that I’ll gladly endure. I may dislike the constant flux in temperature, but I do love living in Hong Kong. My plan for this fine summer afternoon will be to enjoy a good book and an iced coffee inside my favourite café, whilst dressed in a t-shirt and shorts, and my fluffiest winter cardigan.
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This article on how to help fat cats first appeared in the Autumn 2026 issue of Expat Living magazine. You can buy the latest mag or an annual subscription, or read the digital version for free now.
