Jackie Chan on Macau

Regency Macau Hotel He was born Chan Kong-sang, which means "Born in Hong Kong Chan. And while he has become one of the world's most beloved movie stars, Jackie Chan remains, first and foremost, a citizen of the city where he was born and raised - Hong Kong.

Chan had already starred in more than 100 films in Asia before exploding onto the scene in the U.S. with 1996's Rumble in the Bronx, followed by Rush Hour, Shanghai Noon, and Jackie Chan's First Strike. Today, he has his own comic book series, Saturday morning cartoon, and Sony PlayStation game.

It's been a long climb to stardom for the son of parents who worked as cook and housekeeper for the French ambassador to Hong Kong. His parents enrolled him, at 7, in the Beijing Opera Academy, where he trained from 5 a.m. to midnight daily in the martial and performing arts.

In 1971, he became a stuntman in Bruce Lee's Fists of Fury. Like Lee, Chan performs all his own stunts, which, he claims, has resulted in breaking practically every bone in his bionic body. “Everything from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet,” he has said.

One thing has remained unbroken: his abiding love for his hometown, where a life-size cardboard Jackie Chan welcomes travelers at the airport. Here's a weekend with the action hero in Hong Kong.

Excursion

“The colony of Macau is probably the best excursion. It's like Hong Kong, but instead of the British taking over, it was the Portuguese, so Macau has a very European flavor.

There are temples and casinos and museums and great restaurants. It's like going to an old city in Europe — only an hour by boat from Hong Kong.”

ONE SPECIAL DAY

“One day when I was 7, my dad, who had never taken me on an outing before, told me we were going on a trip. Excited, I ran and changed into my best outfit: a cowboy costume, complete with 10-gallon hat and plastic six-shooters. I'd never been down to the lower city before, though I'd seen it from Victoria Peak.

We boarded the ferry for Kowloon. When I asked where we were going, my dad said, "Somewhere special.” On the ferry, I watched the skyline approaching, holding my cowboy hat tight against my head with one hand.

The ride across the bay is a short one, and minutes after we'd left, we were told to prepare to land in Kowloon. Even though it was still early, I'd already decided this was the best day of my entire life.

Kowloon was dirtier and more crowded and louder than anything I'd ever seen in my life, and I loved it. I'd never seen so many people. Everyone had a purpose — heading to work after a long night's sleep or home after a long night's play.

What, I wondered, was our purpose? My head spun with curiosity, but my father was determined to move on, and I was dragged along in his wake. Finally, one last turn brought us onto a street lined with tenements whose windows were dark and shuttered.

“Here we are,” he said. The sign before us identified the building as the Beijing Opera Academy, a name that told me nothing at the time, but meant everything for my future as an actor.

My father had just taken me to my new school.”