Gianluigi Bonelli

It’s summer in the city, and Hong Kong is sizzling hot. Gianluigi Bonelli weaves his way deftly through the slow-moving crowds of window-shopping Chinese tourists idling in their flip flops and mini skirts. Looking like a football star who’s been beamed in from another planet, and despite the steamy heat, Bonelli is dressed from top to toe, neck to wrist, in black with just an occasional flash of red from his socks or the Prada strip on his backpack. Tall and lean, his hair neatly scooped back in a small pony tail, he cuts a dashing figure as he moves knowingly through the warrens of dingy back streets and glitzy shopping centres of his adoptive home town.

We’re returning from a pre-dawn excursion to the city’s Western…

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