Injured Insanities and Failures

It’s been one of the most bizarrest weeks of my life. I had it all planned out. I was feeling more prepared than I had in years: say goodbye to mom and hello to Hong Kong and then proceed to find my flightless way to Borneo. Simple[ish].

 

I was doing well too. On day one I’d already visited immigration and the maritime authorities - I had leads of all sorts and life was good as it glistened under the sparkly city sky. I handed a friend my camera as we watched the sun drop down into the bustle, I clambered up a little building and leaped into the air as he clicked away and I clicked to the ground in a ball of pain.

I’m still trying to work out why exactly I can’t walk – it seems to be a bit of a combination of a sprained ankle and maybe a hairline fracture and… well, whatever it is, it’s messed up my head mostly! And there’s no medical explanation for that! 

I spent day 2 limping between boat/ yatch/ maritime clubs and busses speaking to any and everyone and plastering notices on whichever sign boards would accept. It wasn’t looking good though; monsoon season has hit and even cargo ships have been rerouted!

Hong Kong hit me with another picturesque sunset that sent my head into a spiraling vortex of ponderings that kept me up all night. And even 5 cups of coffee on Day 3 and a long session in the massage chair couldn’t help me! And then I messed up massively. I made what could potentially be the biggest mistake of my life…

 

…It was weird standing back where I’d hugged mum goodbye only 3 days earlier. I didn’t belong there. I felt like my lunch was going to escape my body. I looked nervously from person to person around me, why were they all so calm?

An hour later I finally found the front of the queue. I was shaking. “I’m sorry ma’am, but unless that bear is boxed, we cannot allow it to board” I should have run away right then, but I didn’t… “May I see your return ticket please?” “Return ticket?” You can't enter the Philipines without an exit ticket. I tried to subtly photoshop one on my laptop but I was a wreck and after an hour of standing I was about to fall over in a ball of pain   so, almost in tears, I followed Nini across the airport and allowed her to book and cancel me a return flight to the cheapest destination possible and she telephoned a colleague to check my bag in and another to get Teddy through customs and then she acted as my crutch as we ran to departures where I caught a train across terminals and heard “final call for Miss Adeena…” and then I boarded a bus and a plane and the doors shut and just like that 8 months of flight freeness [and my soul] were destroyed.

The flight was pretty at least.

  

Two and a half hours was just long enough to calm me down again and when I touched down I was a happy smiling me again – even if it was raining and I was still disabled (They even tried to get me into a wheel chair).

And that’s how I became a Pilipino.

From there it was a staggering 6 jeepneys to Cebu Guesthouse (I might have taken a flight, but taxis are still against my religion) where, even though all the stores were shut, I was lucky enough to meet an American with a broken leg and painkillers and I slept.

A Jeepney

I woke up to find I had a dorm mate. She’d arrived at 3am after breaking her leg… Bringing 75% of the guesthouse to ‘disabled’… She, being a physio, told me that I should get a good 3 or 4 days of solid rest in and I’d probably be alright. But if I was going to rest, I was going to do it in a hammock…

It’s supposed to only be 3 hours to a little paradise called Loboc. And as I was leaving I found an American heading the same way and together we took a wrong jeepney and then the right one and then a ferry and then a trikee and then another jeepney and we were only a few kilometers away when the wheel blew and the driver lost control and we crashed into the sandy curb where our jeepney was laid to rest.

A Trikee

It was a VERY long walk that may have involved me falling a couple of times into pools of stagnant mud and I may have a very dirty teddy, and a very swollen ankle and it may have taken us 4 and a half hours longer than it should have but I now have a hammock and beautifulness all around and that makes me happy.

The washing of the Teddy the Fourth

Anyway, I’m afraid I’ve made many many mistakes of late and I think life’s trying to get me to slow down a little so, before I venture onward to Borneo [to become a vegetarian, etc], I’m going to rest and heal and absorb beautifulness (wow, I sound like a hippy) and then a whole new type of adventure continues. Life is brilliant, even when it hurts.

Mum : Mother Theresa on a Pony

Finally... 2years later, a reunion

So, after two years apart it's been nice ro have a mum again... for all of two weeks... And mum and I have hit China so hard that Mao has almost risen from his mausoleum!

Mum’s like a real life mother Theresa incarnate on a pony (I would say steroids, but mother Theresa types don’t quite fit that description… a pony’s the next best thing). If someone is hungry, she will feed them; thirsty she will beverage them, struggling with luggage, she will pick up their pack, drape them over her shoulder and personally haul them to their destination. The worst punishment in all the world for her, even worse than 39 lashes, would be to have someone else pay the bill.

Together we’ve climbed a 3706m mountain for sunrise (4am - it sucks having only one time zone in such a big country!)…

Mt Emei Shan at sunrise

Endured many many bus and train and undergrounds and bus and train and undergrounds and… come to mention it, we’ve been lost that many many times!

We’ve cycled the dark alleys and valleys and highways of the South.

We’ve visited mud baths and caves and hot springs and countless beautifully sceneryed locations

Yangshou

Sporting our matching hats...

Mud bathing in a cave

Xiaping

We’ve been caught in the rain more times than we’ve stayed dry and even when we have stayed dry, we’ve sweated so much we’ve been drenched.

We’ve eaten so much chilli we’ve both cried (and I eat chilli for breakfast, so that' saying something)! And eaten so many strange bits and feces that I'm sure come out looking better than the way they came in!

We’ve met good people and bad people (many more of the former) and spoken far too much Chinese and I’m more confused than ever, but I guess that’s a given… it’s what you come to China for in the first place!

Mum's perfected the asian squat - she's becoming more chinese by the day

I’ve tried to get mum to play beer pong, but failed. I’ve tried to find her ‘the one’, but failed. I’ve tried to get her to bungee jump (but sadly 2010’s car accident injuries won’t permit)…. But a suitable substitute to all of the above shall be found – someday!

And just like that my two weeks of motherhood are over. Very sadly! We’re about to catch a bus to catch a train to catch a bus to catch a plane and then mum’s off to South Africa for two months. If you’re there, you should definitely say hi!And normally I'd be about to start looking for new adventures... but not this time. This time I know exactly where I'm headed... I'm off to Borneo (flightlessly I hope) to become a vegetarian, and not by choice!

The Power of Thumb: And then there was Mum

So once again I’ve accomplished my mission (finally), I’ve done what I set out to do. Trouble and awesomeness have stuck to me like shadows and it’s been quite a ride... But it’s over, it’s almost time for new adventures….

 My shortest distance yet (111 km) took 4 and a half hours and three different rides from Tagong (somewhere Tibetish in China), but that’s okay – I actually had company for a change – one Irishman and a Swiwi (Swiss-Kiwi) - and when in good company, little can go amiss! Apart from your mind that is – especially when you play silly car games. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is trying to think of a song with the word “motorbike” in it? For 2 hours. In aggravated silence.

We flew past crazy icy cliffs and hot springs and waterfalls and all sorts of beautifulnesses with three sets of very non English-speaking Tibetan rides!! The last one was hornless (hooterless) – If you’ve ever been to Asia, you’ll know the horn is the most importantest part of a vehicle. You can ride without wheels or even an engine, but without a hooter, you die. Fortunately we didn’t (because when it’s your time to go, it’s your time to go and apparently it wasn’t ours. Yet.).

I joined forces with an Israeli hitcher from Danba and we lucked out with the lovely people from China Mobile who drove us the last 387 km all the way into Chengdu. Stopping on the way to feed us and shower us with gifts and show us ALL the touristy attractions on the way including a 6500 m mountain and the earth quake zone and far too many comunisty signs and monuments and pandas.

And that was that. 2687 km. 18 rides. 18 Chinese and 9 Western converts to the power of them. And then, after two years apart, there was mum.

The Power of Thumb – It’s Contagious!

7 of us ended hitching out of Shangri-la last Monday. 2 were headed South, and the rest of us North. I was quite looking forward to some good company. But it was only when I was checking out that I consulted a map and found out that my planned route cut straight through the Tibetan Autonomous Region. Foreign tourists can’t enter the Tibetan Autonomous Region at present – unless of course you have a guide and a permit and, as of two weeks ago, 4 other people from the same country. It’s harder than you may think finding 5 South Africans or Dutch (because I’m apparently also Dutch) people in China, let alone ones who plan to go to Tibet…

So although the streets were littered with hitchers, it was another lonely walk for me while the Chinese tourists roamed free… and the road to Litang had me off the highway heading down the dirtiest road yet.

There was a lot going through my mind as local construction trucks sprayed mud all over me and Teddy. Litang was still apparently out of bounds for us touristy types. Rumour has it that two monks had burned themselves and over 600 people had been arrested there just a few days earlier. I walked onwards half fearing that I’d spend a whole day hitching and walking just to be sent all the way back again.  I don’t like doubling back.

Whilst far away in worry land, a car pulled up and offered me a ride. My first Tibetan hitch. They only drove me 30 odd kilometers, but it was far enough to be committed to my path! I walked across the next village and carried on to nowhere in particular, joining some Tibetan ladies in a bit of chit chat on the run- I didn’t understand it at all, but it had to be good, I had them in stitches! And then started the accent. Things were getting steep!

2 trucks, a tractor, and several herds of wild horses later, a car flew by so fast that I actually fell off the road. It was either the elegance of my fall or a sense of deep routed guilt that made them double back and pick me up, either way, I was in.

They had mumbled something about not going to Litang so I figured I was only going a couple of villages down and kept my pack on my lap, not wanting to get too comfortable. It was only 4 hours later, when we were far from anything that even resembled a road that I started to ease in. The driver had a GPS (and a beer) and we were racing up mountains and around rivers and it was a mad quest to prove the capabilities of the car.

It was a wild ride over and around and through rocks and mountains and rivers and herds of yak and sheep and villagers and I felt a little guilty that I had nothing to offer in return; but once I showed them my altimeter I was in. I had them driving towards the biggest mountains they could find just so to reach the 5000m mark. We were just short (5m). But the scenery from way up there was phenomenal!

At some point I glanced at the full back of the truck and wondered if they were all out on a boys camping trip. To be honest I had no idea where I was and seeing as China has blocked the GPS function on my camera, even my compass doesn’t quite work properly – they could have been taking me anywhere!

Darkness was rapidly descending and by 9pm (sunset, that’s the beauty of having a massive country with only 1 time zone) we were still in the middle of somewhere. And then we climbed a mountain and on the other side was a road. A tarred road.

I flipped through my phrase book and found “Women xianzai dao nail le?” (where are we now?) ... “Shan-go-li-la” (Shangri-la) and then I flipped out a bit because I realized that we’d just been on an 11 hour joy ride. Which was nice, but…

By 11pm we were finally in some sort of actual civilization and I may have been wrong, but it wasn’t Shan-go-li-la so I looked perplexedly at my new found friends and they seemed to know what I was thinking “Shang-ho-liii-la something something something  bu (not) Yunnan” they said and I accepted and thanked them kindly and pondered off to find a more affordable hotel. It’s amazing how you can negotiate down from Y580 to Y90 for a room…

Tuesday bought with it even more confusion. Very picturesque confusion.  I had no idea where I was and my map didn’t list any other Shangri-la’s and nobody spoke English, or Mandarin for that matter and everything was written in Tibetan so nobody could even understand my hitching sign and although the village was beautifully paved, there didn’t appear to be any roads to anywhere in particular.

With all the Tibetan about I had to wonder if I’d illegally crossed into Tibet and had to wonder what the implications are for doing such. Even if I was now in Sichuan, I’d crossed illegally too… hmmm… It was going to be an interesting day!

The village was all run on generators, but somehow I found stray wifi and I tried google translate, but no – even google doesn’t do Tibetan! I tried to search for other Shangri-la’s  - but with all the internet blocks in China it was a failed mission! So I did what any of you might do, I picked up my pack and started walking asking any and every person for “Litang?” I walked and walked and found a road and walked some more and a couple of hours later a car finally passed and I got a ride to Doa Cheng. Doa Cheng is on the map.

From there it was a long wait until a mini bus driver offered me a “mianfei” (free) ride all the way to Litang.

Now despite being on the tourist trail (for some bizarre reason) – Litang is a hole of a city – it has no soul, no vibe, no nice hostels… I was greeted by a mob of cowboy hatted Tibetans trying to chase me into moldy guesthouses and I have low standards but really… I spent one night observing the caterpillar larva trade on the street, eating my worst Chinese food yet, and then listening to the dogs howl at the full moon till 6am. At first light I left. In the rain.

I was feeling quite sorry for myself as I walked up yet another hill with an umbrella and a poncho and a wet sign, but then I looked up and saw the snow capped hills surrounding me and I felt a lot happier about life.

15 minutes later Jeshu pulled up and I was off again. His snazzy car thermometer measured 1degree. He was great. We chatted about everything from the weather to work to “do you think that China’s present rural reform is making progress?” gotta love the ‘friends’ section of my phrasebook. And when we ran out of conversation he played some bad club anthem CD and he flashed the lights and we danced as we sped past hundreds of cyclists on a terribly muddy road. 200 km took a whole day.

Tagong was incredible. The hills were alive with prayer flags and monks. It was kind of like being in a sort of western – One dusty road in, one dustier road out – but yaks and short people instead of life size gangsters and big horses …

A beautiful Tibetan lady pointed me to the hostel and it greeted me with a dead horse and a viscious dog. I’d been bitten twice that week already, I’m starting to develop a slight phobia of rabid looking dogs. I almost ran away from the hostel owner who was trying to get me in and I’m quite glad I did because just down the road, under a beautiful rainbow I found a haven of niceness…Tagong won my heart and, because I’ve promised mum I’ll be in Chengdu by Friday the 15^th, four days of my life!     

Also if you're wondering why this blog post is black on white... i don't know... computers hate me. Deal with it.