Tragedy in New Zealand

I have just returned from a two week trip to New Zealand. It was an amazing journey, but I just recieved heartbreaking news. Approximately 12 hours after I left, a vile attack was launched on two New Zealand mosques. As of writing, 49 people are dead. I feel shaken. As a cynical American it is easy to feel detached from a mass shooting. This feels different for me. Not just because of relative proximity, but because it feel like something that should not have happened there. New Zealand is a relatively safe country and I never felt like I was in danger there. The entire country has that small town feel, like you expect everyone to know everybody else. It feels wrong for a place that has so many friendly people from so many backgrounds. On of the first people I met in New Zealand was a hindu Uber driver. A nice, talkative man. The staff at the hostels I stayed at were often travelers from other countries. I met a lot of people with on working holidays that were from around the globe. They would work at some place in town to afford their trips. There were lots of shops and restaurants run by immigrants. Sometimes it felt like there were more people from other countries than natives. That is part of what makes the place special. Having so many people from so many backgrounds come together to make it all work. I have visited and prayed at churches, temples, and mosques on four continents now. In all of them I have found welcome and peace. I have had the chance to talk to people of different faiths, including Islam. There are few things as profane as violence on sacred ground. People go to these places to feel closer something deep and personal, to be inspired, and to be part of their communities. Real people, with real lives the world over. That is the thing about traveling. You get the chance to step out of the familiar and learn what is around the bend. Things seem scarier when you do not know what they are. I am glad that I have stepped around the curve and seen things are less frightening. Part of that is meeting people and learning what they are like. I am not a super social traveler, but I still come into contact with people as I explore. I learn their story as they learn mine. These shared bits of light join together to drive away the frightful darkness. We will say things about the people that have enacted this evil. We will call them crazy. We will call them extremists. Most importantly, we need to call them failures. We have to make it clear that they have failed to frighten us and failed to spread their darkness. I will not be stopped from traveling to New Zealand by this. I will not be stopped from traveling anywhere, including mosques. I hope others will not be scared away either. In fact, I hope they will be emboldened to take a step past the shadow and let their light drive back the darkness. This tragedy has left me sad. Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. To those that feel pain from this, I hope that you can find something to latch onto. Today is for mourning, tomorrow is for living. And too those who have passed on, peace be on you.

Celtic Calling: Part 1

In me flows the blood of celts. It is ancient blood that mixed with the fey and gods of old. It is the blood of people that held back the Romans and cast the vikings back into the sea. It is this blood that called me to fog shrouded isles.

The myths, legends, and history of Ireland and Scotland are a subject of fascination to me. When I made my decision to go on The Grand Adventure they were at the top of the list. I wanted to see for myself the places that had inspired fairytales and fantasy stories. I have always wanted to explore a castle. How can I properly write about one if I have never seen one? A thousand films have told me that there is unmatched natural beauty to be experienced. Granted some of that was probably in New Zealand, but that is another day.

This trip started before I headed for Europe. After several years of living abroad it was time to visit home in Ohio. My parents missed me. My friends missed me. My stomach missed American food. My father upon hearing about my plan got curious himself. A recent DNA test had confirmed our Celtic/Germanic/Scandinavian (West African?) heritage. While I had managed to survive Asia, my family was a bit concerned about me meandering around the continent all on my own. It did not help that someone had told my mother that people’s organs get harvested in Eastern European hostels. And so I gained a traveling companion in the form of my father.

Trying to pack for multiple climates is a special kind of headache. I expected Ohio to be warm in July, but it wasn’t (at least after the heat and humidity of Taipei). I had expected to pick up some old clothes at home...though they had disappeared in my four year absence. I arrived with one pair of shoes and left with two. Oh, and so the celtic lands are cold, where did that sweater go? I left with a bag bordering on bursting. I would have liked to leave three or four things at home...if I had been leaving from my home.

Who likes flying? No one. The joys of a TSA body cavity search, sardine seating, and wondering if you will make your connection each time they change your flight. All of that crammed into the one day that feels like two. Our first flight was canceled, but that turned into a surprising boon. Our rescheduled flight turned two connections into one and we arrived about eight hours earlier than planned. Make the most of what happens.

We landed in Dublin feeling exhausted, but ready to stretch our legs. I was groggy, and a touch grumpy, from a very cold, sleepless flight. That did not help with the issue of confusion while trying to get bus tickets. I had the directions for getting to our Hostel, but getting the tickets to get there was a different matter. In our confusion we ended up purchasing a two day ticket for the DoDublin hop-on hop-off bus. I was pretty miffed, but we managed to keep our cool.

We got on the 747 bus into the city. It took us to the city center which was packed with tourists. Our hostel, the Gardiner Hostel, was located a small walk out of the crowd. I did not want to be surrounded by pub goers in the evening. Lugging my pack up the road did make me wonder about that choice. The hostel was actually quite nice. Gardiner is inside an old church and well maintained. We stored our luggage until our afternoon check in and headed back into the city center mess.

The Spire

The first order of business was getting some lunch. The hostel staff had suggested we try a place called Murray’s for some Irish food. It was undeniably touristy. Right on the main drag and screaming that it was Irish. That said, the stew we had was pretty good. It was also our first use of our bus cards. They had a buy one get one free deal for people with the hop-on hop-off tours.

The center of Dublin is a mix of old buildings and tourist traps. The Spire, which is suppose to be the tallest sculpture in Europe, rises up over the buildings like a beacon to be guided by. Tour buses run up and down the road pass gift shops, casinos, and tour offices. One of the things I found most surprising was the amount of Asian food. Just off the main drag you will find an entire street of Chinese, Thai, Indian, and Middle Eastern food. I think I saw more advertisements for curry and kebabs in Dublin than I did for Irish food.

We managed to hop on a tour bus for a very slow tour. Up on the top of the double-decker bus we were able to take in a few sights until we finally reached the museums I wanted to see. We took a little stroll through Merrion Square. The little park is a good place to have a picnic or relax, though that is more for the locals. Travelers are more likely to seek pictures of the statue of Oliver Wilde. I don’t think I have read anything of his except his quotes, but the quotes are good enough to justify a quick photo for me.

Oliver Wilde

Across the street we visited the National Museum of Ireland - Natural History. It is a two story building that is crammed full of things to see. The first floor is dedicated to extinct and Extant species of Ireland. It is easy to believe that every animal and insect has been cataloged there. It is packed tight with old displays of flora and fauna. For me the most interesting was the skeletons of the extinct Irish elk. They were some of the largest members of the deer family to ever roam the world.

The second floor is not limited to Ireland. You can view stuffed animals from around the world. It almost seems like the lodge of some well traveled hunter. The stuffed animals are old and I imagine some likely over a century old. While I have seen better preserved or recreated, the cramped atmosphere is surprisingly fun. While local children are likely to get more out of it than most travelers, it can be a fun stop if you like to read about Alan Quartermaine.

Giant Irish Elk

We finally found our way to the National Museum of Ireland - Archaeology. This one was a big deal for me. I wanted to see the artifacts, especially those dealing with medieval and prehistory. On the first floor they had an exhibition dedicated to Ireland's gold. They had a selection of golden jewelry that the ancient Celts would have worn. I excitedly made my way through it. Up on the next floor they had exhibits on medieval Ireland. From there I worked my way towards the section on Vikings in Ireland. There were displays about how the vikings invaded, integrated, and were eventually pushed back. They had a number of weathered swords on display. I had finally made it to the section on weapons (what I wanted most) when I was hurried out for closing time. Keep an eye on your watch. Also, set your watch for the local time.

Ireland's Gold

We were fairly tired at this point. A 16 hour flight followed by sight seeing will do that to you. We hopped on our bus and figured to ride most of the way back to our hostel. That was less productive than planned. The 5 o’clock rush hour was atrocious, though the driver suggested that there may have been an accident. Whatever the cause, we were sitting, not moving. The driver eventually told everyone that we were ahead to just get off at the next stop. Everything along the tour route would be closed by now and it was just going to be traffic for the rest of the evening.

We exited so we could walk. It was now that we discovered just how small Dublin is, or at least the city center where the sights and tourists are. Almost everything is a ten minute walk from the Spire, including our hostel. We had sat in traffic longer than it took for us to just walk to our temporary home.

Needless to say, we slept fairly well that night. Gardiner House is one of the most comfortable hostels I have stayed at. So exhaustion and a fairly soft mat worked together. The next day I woke feeling pretty good. Our room had been a bit warm in the evening, and a bit chilled in the morning. All I needed was a long sleeve shirt and pants and I was ready to go. Dad had woken earlier than me and already been exploring. A breakfast of Nutella toast, cereal, and hot coco was a pretty good start to the day.

Once we were ready to go we headed out into the brisk air. We found the hop-on hop-off bus stop so we could start the tour over from the beginning. Things were going a bit better this time. We could hear the driver tells us where we were going and take in a few sights.  

We hopped off at the Little Dublin Museum. We could see it for free with our bus pass. Well, except that we had an hour wait for the next tour. With time to kill we headed over to Trinity College and bought tickets to see the Book of Kells. We spent some time wandering around the exhibit, looking at blown up images from medieval manuscripts. There was an impressive level of details in these older books.

Before finishing the exhibit we had to head back to the Little Dublin Museum. Sometimes seeing everything requires a bit of back and forth. A lack of willingness to backtrack a little can limit what you see. If we had not been willing to do that, then we would have missed out on two great options.

The Little Dublin Museum has a 29 minute (very specific) tour they put on for visitors on the second floor. You start in a room decorated with donated memorabilia of the city’s history. The story starts around the beginning of the 19th century and the presenter goes on decade by decade around the room. Then in the second room things start to move towards more recent history. There is a collection of artifacts that will hold your attention even if local history is not your thing. For me, it was a painting from the Celtic games held at the beginning of the 20th century as a way to strengthen Irish identity as different from English. Up on the next floor are rooms that you can visit after the tour. There are a pair of rooms dedicated to influential political figures. However, it is the room dedicated to Bono and U2 that will probably interest most travelers.

Just around the corner we found a nice place to have lunch. It was a Turkish salad stand. It was one of the better meals I had on the trip. Its name is Tang.

We walked the short distance back to Trinity College and back to the Book of Kells. This time we made it to the room where the book is actually held. The ancient bible is protected inside of a glass case. Walking around the table you can look in to view the tight writing and artistry. It can take time though. The crowd came to a standstill because someone would not move along. Me and someone else finally had to start demanding the rude individual move on.

Upstairs is a bibliophiles dream. Under a vaulted ceiling is the college’s library. The old tomes are preserved for researchers in stacks that stretch to the second floor ceiling. Busts of natural philosophers line the way. Walking around it can make you feel quite tiny as you look up at the records of the ages.

Back on the bus we rode around the city. We passed by the Guinness distillery. I had thought dad might be interested, but he was not. He knows enough about how it is made. He just wanted a good drink. The chemistry of it is a curiosity to me, but as a teetotaler I have no motivation to see how it is done when there are better things to be about.

We got off at Phoenix park. It is supposed to be the largest park in Europe. There certainly is a vastness to it. We rented bikes and headed around the little trails. Biking in parks is nice. You are moving, seeing new things, and do not have much to worry about. The park is fairly level with mostly gentle grades to go up and down.

I knew there were suppose to be deer in the park, but did not really expect to get lucky enough to see them. I was wonderfully wrong. We came to a heard of them resting on the side of a hill. After dismounting I moved in for some pictures. The deer are clearly quite tame and use to people. However, I make a point of taking care with animals. I did not try to pet them as some people did and tried not to startle them. It was nice being among them and it offered a peaceful feeling of being at ease with nature even as the city bustled around us.

Up close with the deer

We had to wait a good while for our last bus home. Dad went on to a pub. I went in with him for a bit, but was not overly thrilled with it. I collected some dinner and went back to the hostel to work out our next day.

A Little Adventure and Travel Philosophy

You will see lots of blogs and guides about travel that say anyone can do it. Anyone can be a world traveler! The problem is that it is a lie. Not everyone can just up and leave their life behind to go off to exotic locations. Traveling around the world requires time and money among other things. If it was easy, everyone would do it.

I get to travel and see new places. I geared my life towards that and made the sacrifices that go along with it. I also recognize that I am very lucky to have that opportunity. I have never had to starve or feel insecure about my living situation. I was in a position to put away money to use for my travels instead of living paycheck to paycheck. I lack any responsibilities such as a family to take care of. That is why I can do what I do. Of course, that comes with an uncertain future. I’m spending a lot and not saving up or setting down roots for later in life. That is a trade off that I have made, for better and for worse.

The good news, though, is that everyone can have an adventure. An adventure does not have to be a whirlwind trip to far away lands. It is something that you can have in your own backyard (or equivalent for city dwellers). All it requires is a little time and a willingness to be fascinated with the world around you.

Even with my travels I can still find pleasure in a very small adventure. On a recent visit to Ohio I spent some time walking some old trails and roads. I had walked them before years ago. There were only small changes. Still, it was exciting to see. It was a chance to let my mind and spirit free as I followed these familiar paths.

To make sure I was ready for a big trip I wanted to keep my legs in shape while I was at home. Daily walks down the road were my prefered method. One evening after it rained I took a particularly long walk that went well past my usual turning point. Mist hung in the air, floating over the pastures I passed and between the trees that shaded me. As I turned down a seldom traveled road I felt as alone as I might have in a deep forest. For me, times like that spur my imagination. I like to think up ideas for fantastic stories that I will try to write down.

I visited the Lake Katherine State Nature Preserve. Again, I had to wait till after the rain had fallen. I had planned to just walk down to the lake for a few short pictures, but the little voice in the back of my head urged me to go a little farther. I listened, again and again, until it was clear I would be doing the full loop. The rain came back just as I neared the end. While I did not end up soaked it was enough to make me pick up the pace.

When I am in Taipei I will take little walks. There are lots of streets just in my neighborhood that I still have not gone down. So now and then I will choose a new street to walk when my interest is piqued. I get lost, but I see something new as well.

And that is something anyone can do. Take a new street. Turn over a rock. Just wander around someplace new. By all means, if you can, go to a new town, state, or country. The farther you go the more you will see. But if your life prevents that then look for ways to make your own adventure. Take an interest in plants, insects, and rocks. Suddenly the world will become a bigger, stranger place. Develop an interest that requires you to go off the familiar path. Explore graveyards or old buildings, make a game of finding certain houses, or just use an app that tracks how far you go. Most importantly, make the adventure yours. You do not have to worry about impressing the world so long as you are excited and making your own story.

New Year on the Mountain

It is fair to say that 2015 was a pretty good year to me. Steady work, lots of travel, new experiences. I knocked some things off of my bucket list. I visited Japan. I got my writing published at Focus Taiwan, a news website. So I wanted to send it off in style and ring in the new year with hope for a good start.

I asked my friend Grace to watch the fireworks and sunrise from Jiantan Shan. She has been my constant companion and support throughout the year. Things have been up and down, with fights and stress, but somehow we keep finding our way back together for new adventures.

Things started off a bit rocky. It was a last minute plan with a lot of dependent factors. There were questions about exactly what we were going to do. Should we bring her tripod for her camera? Miscommunication. Lots of miscommunication.

Still, after work we met up at the Xingtan Temple MRT and got dinner at Taco Taco. It was her first try at eating a burrito. After that, it was on to Xingtan Temple to pray for good fortune and get a blessing. As a note, if you go to the ladies with incense for a blessing, take your backpack off before hand or you look silly trying to get it off while she is standing there.

We walked across the city and over the Keelung river to get to the Grand Hotel. Grace thought the we could just go up there instead of all the way up the mountain. I was none to surprised that they would not let us up to the top. There was a party going on up there, so guests only and we could not bluff past. This lead to some arguments, but somehow we kept it together. We could have gotten a shot from the parking lot, but figured to soldier on to the top.

We marched up the mountain steps. The trails at Jiantan have short stone steps and there are numerous areas set aside for temples, patios, and badminton courts. We ended up following along with some other hikers while listening to people sing karaoke at their own little parties. We would stop now and then to test the view, but always kept marching on in search of a higher, better view.

The problem with any winter hike is the fight between sweating and freezing. That was particularly the case because as we rose higher the wind picked up to steal away our heat. It was a nice 15* C out, but the wind might as well have made it bellow zero, or so it felt. It was not so bad while in the tree cover or on the west side. In other words, places not suited for taking photos.

We finally reached a high area with viewing platforms. We were not the only ones wanting to take pictures though. I advocated just crowding in, but Grace did not want to do that. With a bit of searching we found an old trail below the platforms that was partly roped off. With a bit of work we got the tripod set up there and waited in the wind for the show to start.

At midnight Taipei 101 erupted in a pyrotechnic plume. Red, blue, and gold fireworks burst in stunning patterns. I did what I could to captures a few shots with my little camera. I was counting on Grace to get the good shots with hers though. I watched the show and enjoyed the distant sparkles. It was over a bit too quick though, and I am sure it went on far longer last year. We could at least watch a few of the other light shows going on below, including a group of teens down by the Keelung river setting off their own.

We huddled a bit and planned our next move as the others started to disperse. With the bone chilling wind we decided it was not in us to stay up on the mountain all night. We trotted back down the mountain to the Grand Hotel. We sat around a lobby to get warmed up until we were kicked out. Of course, once we were down low the wind was less of an issue.

We sat around and talked before finally going to see if anything was still open at Shilin Night Market. While it seemed dead at first, there was indeed still life. Others were hunting for late night food and there were a few stalls still catering too us nocturnal creatures. A coffin sandwich provided me with a bit more energy to try and ride out the night.

After some time sitting around an underpass for warmth, it was time to head back up the mountain. We dragged our worn out rears back up. I was cursing bringing the tripod along. By 04:30 and 05:00 there were already some people hiking up. Old folks wanting early exercise before the sun even rose. I guess that is the secret to living forever. I for one shall pass on that.

We made it up faster than planned. We found a familiar spot on the leeward side to talk as time passed. We huddled together to keep warm until the sky started to lighten. We hurried over to the observation deck where a few others joined us to great the first sunrise of the year.

The city below was shrouded in a thick haze. Either smog from China or fog from the Keelung and Tamsui rivers. 101 was barely visible and we feared that it was all for not. Things were saved, though, as the rising light burned away the clouds above Taipei. The city itself was still mostly obscured, but up above were vivid hues of orange and purple as dawn broke at 06:39. I took as many pictures as I could, counting more on quantity over quality. I might not get 101 bathed in light, but I could at least have the painted sky.

Our quest complete, we headed down the mountain. We were tired, sore, and hungry. As it turns out you can get breakfast at KFC. Also, you should not. We made our way to the MRT and said our goodbyes. We both needed showers and to lay down for a long rest so we would be fresh for the new year.

A Taiwanese Wedding

Cultural adventures are as important as hikes and trips to museums. They provide a chance to connect and understand people. Last weekend I went to a Taiwanese wedding. It was interesting. I do not think it would fit the image that a lot of westerners would picture for a wedding though. I am not sure how typical it was, but it did provide me with a chance to see a new side of Taiwanese culture.

The night we got the invitation.

To start this tale we have to jump a bit farther back in time. The original invitation came when I was still with my girlfriend. It was for her friend Peggy’s wedding. I was invited as Grace’s date. However, Grace and I separated. We are still friends though, so I told her I would still go with her.

Now let us speed forward to the wedding day. There was no big ceremony like at a western wedding. They did that at home, just the newlyweds and their parents. Instead, everyone was meeting for the wedding party. At first I thought we had arrived at a car dealership. It was actually a building set up for multiple wedding receptions.

Inside was crowded and bustling. There were at least three weddings going on at the same time. People were milling about and talking. There were a lot of different decorations. The most prominent of which were copies of the wedding photos. Wedding photos are a big deal in Taiwan. Couple love to go to parks, historic sites, and other nice areas for gorgeous photo shoots. A book was set out on a table so that we could flip through them. My personal favorite was of them wearing Mickey & Minnie Mouse ears.

Grace took me to the Bridesroom where Peggy and Rodge were getting their hair done. I sat back and let the girls gab as well as help take some pictures. I did end up teasing Grace. I claimed if she ignored me to much I would tell people I was her fiance or husband.

There was a table set up to hand over red envelopes. Rather than giving gifts, it is traditional to give a red envelope with money to the couple. After we signed a banner for the couple we got our seats in the hall. We were seated around a table with relatives and friends of the bride. Apparently they were having a separate wedding party for the grooms side at a different place because his family lived outside the city.

After a bit things were ready to go. The lights focused in and the happy couple walked down the aisle to their table. There were toasts and pictures. I was busy drinking down cup after cup of mango juice thanks to a case of dehydration. Then the food started to come. As a dish decorated with lobster shells was set down, the bride and groom went back to their room to relax. Duck, beef, and salad were brought around. The newlyweds were not missing out too much, they had lunch in their changing room.

I think I might have ate slower if I had known how many courses there would be. Shrimp and bowls of pork and scallop soup came out. There was a plate piled high with mushrooms and abalone. To me the best part was the lamb ribs. Of course there was still chicken soup to come as well. There were some pastries that even Grace could not identify for me. The final dessert was rum raisin ice cream cups.

The happy couple and their parents. Photo credit of Grace.

The show was not over though. The newlyweds came back, and in style. They, or at least Peggy, had changed cloths. She was in a nice blue dress. Rodge pedaled a tricycle into the hall with her sitting on a back seat waving. She handed out some candy, which the kids mobbed her for. Having promised not to embarrass Grace, I stayed in my seat. They came around each table to toast and take pictures.

Me on the wedding bike. Photo credit of Grace

Adequately stuffed, the last stop was pictures with the couple on the way out. We got our picture with them and Grace shot some photos with her new camera. It turns out that no matter what side of the world you are on, it isn’t really a wedding until someone’s uncle has a bit too much to drink. Grace and I snuck off to look the rest of the wedding building over. It’s kind of our thing. Act like we are some kind of spies. It was a neat little look around. A final wave good bye, and a doggie bag full of ribs, and we were ready to walk off our meal.

Afterwards. Photo credit of Grace.

Maintaining the Chronicle

One of the things that fascinates me about the explorers of old are the records they leave behind. Pioneers carved markers into rocks. Mountain men worked maps onto their powder horns. Travelers such as Louis and Clark left behind journals. All of these are ways to record discovery, preserve memory, and let the world know that you were there.

Running a 5k by the river.

As much as I love writing about my little adventures and sharing a bit about the things I do, I am a slow writer. This increases the longer after I have done something. It is less fresh in the mind as to be expected. My procrastination is amplified when I have a lot that needs to be wrote. Sadly, I have a pretty big backlog at this point.

The key to this goes back to around a year ago. My laptop broke so I was unable to write for around a month. Of course, I was still out seeing the world. By the time the thing was fixed, I had a lot to write, but not so much time to write it in.

Happily, I am finally catching it all up. This has meant focusing on the biggest stories, like trips to Hong Kong. Others are getting left aside though. As well, some of the smaller stories are being compiled or being told slightly out of order.

The light festival.

I have decided to compile some things together. A lot of little things like the Miniatures Museum and Puppetry Museum are really quite cool. However, they do not really need a story all to themselves. They have common themes and complement each other nicely.

There are lots of things I want to tell, such as trips with friends and hikes up mountains. In my rush to get out big stories, like Manila, those ones get sidelined. They will still come though, I think, but they will be out of order. Oh how I loath to have things in disarray! I feel that is for the best though. I am going to work on a way to note chronology so that there is no confusion on the order of events.

A hint of what is to come soon is in order to keep you interested.

I look forward to talking about the Sky Lantern Festival and the Light Festival. The beauty of Taiwan in December. Hiking in Tianmu and nearly getting lost in the woods after sunset will be exciting. Long one of my favorites, a compilation of bike trips along the river. Of course, the story that everyone is looking forward to, my trip to Japan.

Bare with me now. I hope that everyone is patiently waiting. Good things are in store. As I ramp up work here, other ideas are being floated around. I hope that by my next really big adventure I can utilize video footage.

Hong Kong

I arrived in Hong Kong late in the evening. I was less excited about it than other trips I had made. A big, modern city was not the kind of thing that really appeals to me. I had chosen it because it was a cheap flight and fairly safe. After Manila, I was inclined to choose destinations that did not prove quite so much threat to a lone traveler.

The Hong Kong airport was nice and modern as was to be expected. Most importantly it had free wifi that let me check things online. I had the details for getting to my hostel write down, but it never hurts to be able to make some last minute Google searches. I checked my email and such as I waited for the bus.

Down by the bay

Pro Tip: Get an Octopus Card if you are going to be spending much time in Hong Kong. You can use it to pay for buses, MRT, and other things. It is a lot easier than trying to find the correct change.

It was the first time I have ever had the opportunity to ride a double decker bus. Wanting the best view possible of the city I was about to explore I chose up top, right in the front. That turned out slightly less exciting than envisioned. The bus rout did not go by anything terribly exciting. After I tired of watching the night lights roll by I took some time to read.

One nice thing about Hong Kong is that after a century and a half of British rule a lot things are in English. That probably explains the double decker bus too. I found my stop easy enough. As a bonus I found someone else looking for the same hostel as I got off. Between the two of us we were able to find the place.

The Hong Kong Hostel proved to be quite different from what I am use to. After checking in and seeing the common room I was told how to get to the dorm...down the street. The quarters were located in a separate building. More....odd...was the fact that a sign was displayed inside of the building explaining that an illegal hostel was being run on the premise. To be fair, I think that is actually a pretty common practice in Hong Kong.

I want to take a moment to speak of the area that the hostel is located at. It sits along Causeway Bay, one of the major thoroughfares for Hong Kong Island. It is a bustling area illuminated with the glowing lights of commerce. Restaurants, stores, and theaters were situated to cater to travelers, shoppers, and partiers. Right outside was an open air book market.

I spent some time in the common room to get to know some of the other guests. I did talk to an older gentleman named Jay that much like I was looking for cheap entertainment the next day. We agreed to meet in the morning. When I went back to my dorm room I met the other residents, some young men from Finland.  They were a friendly lot, but were more interested in the night life. They were nice enough to share some Finish candy with me that tasted like fish before they headed out.

The next morning I met with Jay then grabbed my breakfast. Rather than spend a lot at a restaurant, I bought some fruit and a delicious fresh pastry at the Welcome across the street. It had strawberries and kiwi in cream cheese. I determined it to be breakfast the next day as well.

Pro Tip: You can get fresh fruit at stores or street markets a lot cheaper than anything else. Portable, full of energy, and one of the few things good for all three meals.

We headed for the bay by MRT and foot. It was a sunny day out, but the air was a bit crisp. The kind of day where you sweat in the light and shiver in the shade. The water was blue with with slow waves. The sky was a slightly different matter. At first I had thought things were blurred by distance and morning mist, but it became clear that there was a haze in the air. It was not a choking fog, but it made things seem out of focus. Hong Kong’s infamous air pollution.

A morning cruise on a junk would be nice.

We watched the boats go about their business. Ferries came to take tourists from one island to another. Most interesting was watching an old junk, or at least a recreation of a junk, pull in to birth at the pier we were standing on. It was a tour ship for those that wanted to sit on an old boat and sip drinks. The boat ride did seem fun, however I do not want to go on a booze cruise.

There is a nautical museum at the wharf. I was not so keen to visit it. The local history of boating over the last century is a subject that I was not interested enough in to spend my thin cash. So instead we looked at the free exhibits along the boardwalk. A visit to a photographer's shop near the various gift shops was a neat way to see different views of the city.

After a fruity lunch we talked over what to do next. I persuaded Jay to take a ferry to Lamma Island. It was the right price and would kill the right amount of time. We found good seats at the back with an unobstructed view. I also figured out that the PFD made a great seat pad, plus it added to my height. As we cruised across the bay we could see different little islands. I was thankful that I had brought my binoculars. I could check out curious details, like the question of the three things in the distance. Buildings? Smokestacks? Later determined it was smoke stacks. Binoculars rock.

Our boat pulled into a little cove. Other small fishing boats connected by planks formed a kind of floating community. It reminded me of what I had seen in movies. Right off of the dock was a line of seafood restaurants catering to tourists. There were several paths we could take, though getting our bearings proved a bit tricky. We finally settled on hiking up the island to another port where we could catch a different boat back.

The paved trail led us uphill and into the greenery. We passed by locals houses as we ascended and descended our winding path through the foothills. It felt like we passed through a half dozen environments on what was a relatively short hike. We passed through banana orchards and hiked up a boulder strewn mountain. We looked out over a bay where the waves crashed against the rocks then stood down on the sand itself. We passed thick bamboo to something more like a jungle. We sweated as we hiked up, and then shivered in the cool air and wind up high.

The island had history to show us as we walked the path. We passed by graves, old and new. The little shrines were set into the mountains. Some were old and forgotten while others, crowded closer together showed the signs of recent visitation and attention. There was an old village of stone buildings. Most were half collapsed. Trees grew up through them and the vines seemed to be the only thing holding them together. The people had moved out as Hong Kong started to modernize. There was a shrine to the local god located near an old stream. The people of the village had left it behind when they were forced to answer the call of society’s unflinching progress. Now it was just a reminder that all things fade in time. 

As we hiked near the peak we finally discovered that our path was not as we had planned. We had missed a turn apparently. Instead we circled the lower half of the island and would be coming right back to where we had started. Frustrating, of course, but the trip was still delightful in the extreme. Before we headed back to the docks, my final foray was to a gazebo at the top of a rocky outcropping while my partner of the day rested. It afforded me a chance to survey the area from on high. Being up there in the cool breeze was a chance to think and reflect. My mind was spurred with inspiration and rejuvenation.

There is little to say of the return. We were inside the boat with little view. I was too worn out to really care much anyway. I hunted up some dinner once we got back. Hong Kong is not a cheap city so I had to pay a good price for just a bowl of noodles. I retired to my bunk and planned the next day before sleep overtook me.

I rose early the next morning with a sense of purpose. I was going to hike the Dragonback. I grabbed some breakfast and lunch from the Welcome then took the MRT to the bus. It was a pleasant ride up the winding mountain, though I wish I had seat with a better view.

The bus dropped me off at the side of the road with the other hikers. It overlooked a good view of the bay. A lot of people like to get out of the urban jungle on the weekend when the weather is nice. I was part of a crowd of locals and tourists (mostly with British accents). There were young people and elderly. I was surprised to see people with toddlers packed in what looked like a cross between a papoose and a high end trekking pack. Bringing a baby on a three hour hike strikes me as a less than wise choice, but some people do not let being a parent change their lifestyle. I for one was glad to not have the extra weight on my back.

A lot of shrubs. I think some of it was Chinese olive.

The mob thinned out as I started up the trail, everyone finding their own pace. I had grown to use to the pathed trails of Taipei. This was more to my liking, a trail pounded into place by hikers' boots. The path was dirt and rock. The forest at the trailhead thinned down to shrubs and a few pinetrees. It matched the more rugged terrain. The grasses waved in the winds. Shade was stripped away by the shortening of the foliage.

I took a relaxed pace. My intent was to enjoy myself, not run some race to the end. There were few flowers to stop and smell, but I halted to examine rocks and insects. I may have seemed a bit strange to others as I kneeled down to take pictures of ants and look at minerals with my pocket microscope. It was my trip, I will indulge the sciences if I want.

A long walk along the ridge.

The ascent grew steeper as I pushed towards the top. I was panting a bit as I finally reached the ridgeline. I could see out across the bay now and look down at the waves licking the beach below. It was a powerful view. The walk along the ridge was a whole different beast. The wind whipped at me as I strode the Dragon's Back. It chilled the sweat that had formed on my hike up. The path was narrower, or at least felt so, because it was now running exactly atop the mountain’s ridgeline.

Pro Tip: A shirt with sleeves is a good idea for any hike in the mountains. Even on a subtropical island the breeze can get cold.

Looking down into the bay bellow. The haze makes it hard to see.

Making friends.

It was invigorating to be up there. Who would have thought such a place could exist in Hong Kong? I felt charged as I crossed the ridge. I ended up becoming the photographer for a group of girls from Indonesia. If you cannot bring a friend along, make some there. At no point did I want to turn back. I was in too good of a mood and filled with curiosity. Crisp air has a way of leaving you ready for more when you are up on a mountain. That is why I travel. The chance to feel alive and to wonder what lies over the next peak.

Finally, I reached the top of Shek O Peak, the highest point of the trail. There is a strong “made it” feeling that goes along with that. You are at the top of the rollercoaster and can start the ride down. I took my photos and burned the memory deep into my brain. This was my accomplishment, my literal high point for the trip. I had gone somewhere and done something new. No matter what, I was contented with that.

Top of the mountain.

That which goes up will eventually come down. I hiked the path until open expanses and shrubs gave way to cool forest shade. This was my comfort zone. I am very much a forest creature. A hike through the woods always plays with my imagination. It puts you inside a living thing. Streams and trickling waterfalls were a common. I stopped to watch them and wished I had more of lunch with me. I found a nice spot where I think I could have sat all day.

The last leg brought me down to the beach. I was glad to have reached the end. I was exhausted and the soles of my feet were killing me. I took some time to sit on some rocks and watch as people swam and surfed. If I had a bit more energy I would have been tempted to play a bit in the water. Then again, wet pants are no fun for a ride home. So instead I enjoyed the gentle lapping of the waves from atop a stone outcropping.

Big Wave Bay

Despite of my fatigue I did force myself to take one last little hike. I walked up the seacliff trail to look at some ancient petroglyphs etched into the stone. It always fascinates me to look at such things. I puzzle over what they mean and why they were placed there. I would actually like to find a way to leave my own mark on the places I have been. Nothing as vandalizing as spray paint or gaudy as names carved on a tree. Just a symbol that proclaims I was there that someday might cause another sojourner or scholar to wonder about who came before.

Here in we enter the boring parts. I waited for a bus probably longer than the ride itself took. I found a simple dinner. Then I laid down to rest, quite exhausted. When I woke in the morning I had time to kill. On advice from my girlfriend, Grace, I decided to head up Victoria Peak.

People getting wedding photos by the tram.

Buses are not the foreigner's friend. I got off a stop late, or maybe a stop early. Maybe I missed a transfer. In the end I was not where I wanted to be with little ability to determine where I was or where to go. I did know I was close though. After some wandering and consideration I finally found a group of middle school boys. One of them spoke enough English to tell me how to get to where I was going, more or less. After a nice cut through a park I found myself waiting in a rather long line.

The tram up the mountain is an interesting ride. It's history goes back to Hong Kong colonial period. Waiting in line gives you a chance to take in some of the history, looking at old machinery and the fashions of a bygone era. The team itself is cooked at a steep angle like a roller coaster that leaves you feeling half reclined. As it rolls upward you are afforded an excellent view with a few stops to snap pictures. My attention was drawn more to some of the interesting bridges and overpasses. Unique architecture has a way of spurring the writer in me and I think of how it might be used in a story or game. I also thought it would be fun to hike and climb along the stone gutter that runs alongside the tram. I am inclined to believe that would be "highly discouraged."

The tram comes to a stop at basically a tourist trap mall. It is filled with overpriced souvenirs and restaurants. I did my best to steer clear of all of that. There was also an ice cream shop with special ice cream for dogs. So, that's a thing.

I found the best view I could and enjoyed looking down at the city as the sun shone brightly on the maze of glass and concrete. I think I could have hiked further and reached the exact top of the peak, the highest point in Hong Kong. I was short on time already though. I settled for buying my preferred souvenir, a patch for my backpack, and rode the tram back down.

At this point I was trying to make my way back to the hostel. I happened across Cheung Kong Park. It was quite beautiful, but I lacked the time to explore it fully. Something for another time I suppose. Hong Kong has a number of elevated walkways in some parts of the city. It helps a good deal in avoiding the traffic. An efficient system that I think other cities would be ahead to adopt.

When I returned to the hostel to checkout I received an unpleasant shock. I was informed that my estimation of how long it would take to get back to the airport by bus was off by a good bit. The only way to make my flight would be to take the train, but I lacked enough HKD. The hostel owner saved my rear at that point. Even though they did not normally exchange NTD, he agreed to do it in my case. That alone is enough to earn the hostel a 5 star rating from me!

The train ride to the airport was swift and I was able to drop my heart rate back below panic levels. The plane ride home was a welcome return. Hong Kong had not been at the top of my choices to visit in Asia. I had thought it to just be a big city. It surprised me though. I found a chance to see history and explore nature. I do hope to visit again. There is still much left to see, especially if I can go back on something other than a shoestring budget.