From Kowloon Pier the Hong Kong city skyline glistens in the night. Like a jewel encrusted guardstone by the great doors of China.
What discoveries I might make there flash through my mind like the laser light firing from the pulsing towers. It illuminates the stubborn mist for mere seconds at a time, exciting for just a moment, the mystery of what is yet to come.
The Hong Kong Island light show
Climbing Victoria’s peak there was a strange mix of British engineering and glimpses the alien landscape below. One second a sea strewn with countless ships, haphazardly formed and arranged. The next, a regiment of pipework and concrete water courses, purposeful and precise. It was familiarity in a foreign land, shrouded still by that stubborn mist.
Ascent to Victoria’s Peak
The mist it seemed would follow us for a few days at least, but all trace of familarity was dispelled the instant we boarded the bullet train and shot toward Yangshuo.
In to the belly of the beast
If the rolling limestone panorama in Ha Long Bay had been the descending dragon’s back, then the sharp karsts of Yangshuo were undoubtedly its teeth. The jagged and crumbling peaks seemed to be battle scarred by China’s rich and turbulent past. Something which is hinted to in Hong Kong for those with a keen eye (or like me, a friend’s guidebook).
The Dragon’s teeth
Stephen and Stitt, two fierce bronze lions, guard the Hong Kong Shanghai Banking Corporation HQ on what used to be a shoreline centuries ago. But look to their hide and they bear the shrapnel marks from the Japanese, who used them for target practice during their occupation. This, just one small crest on this country’s mountainous history.
Target Practice
Now, even at 300km/h it felt like our train was being slowly swallowed by that mountain. Our first day in real China would be deep in the belly of the beast.
What I found in Yangshuo town was not what I expected. Those ancient peaks fill your mind with fire and magic but what remains today is noisy and neon. Still unique and multi-faceted, but no longer a jewel. You can still dream of that mighty dragon while adrift on bamboo rafts along the Li river.
Then in the streets the smells of mysterious foods entice and affront in equal measure. There’s beer pong on the roof terraces and Yahtzee in the nightclubs. You might find yourself seated with a giant stuffed bear or biting down on a sweet raw sewage pancake (durian).
The most unexpected thing though was that I might connect with someone who spoke no English at all.
Energy Accounting
Despite how easily it comes to other people and even species, interacting with my own kind has never been easy for me. The peaceful proboscis monkeys back in Lambuk Bay would so naturally gather and be at rest in each other’s company. For me though, even sitting within a group would draw on my energy like some old and failing smart phone. An ember warm and comforting, but continually using fuel as it burns.
Family at rest
This often shocks people who believe me to be a naturally friendly person. As a good friend of mine with a similar personality explained though, we are just a different kind of personality.
An extrovert can often withdraw energy from a large group, feeding from the buzz in the room. An introvert can be opposite. Enjoying just as much the interaction but depositing their energy in the process. I don’t see it as a price, more like heat lost from a light bulb. Something barely noticed by those dancing in the lights.
Strange Connections
It’s easier for me in quiet places with fewer people. So as I rammed in ear plugs in a Yangshuo nightclub, surrounded by people I could neither hear nor understand, I was quickly losing my patience. Then Mĕi Líng, a miniature ball of energy in black Converse and a Coca-Cola top forced me on stage.
She showed me that the weird government approved (monitored?) version of WhatsApp can do instant translation. So we stood there and chatted without ever speaking a word in the same language. By closing time I had a new friend, a Chinese name, and a strange feeling that the future had arrived.
The next morning I was so tired, and not just from the hangover or late night karaoke! The enjoyment and exhaustion I get from a meeting like that is partly imagining that person’s life.
My saviours back in Borneo had been Alwin and Aline a naturally friendly couple who kept me company whilst we waited patiently for those Oceanic Engines to do their thing.
With nothing but a plain cafeteria and instant coffee to pass the time, they did what humans do best – they told stories.
In the space of two hours they transported us to Ho Chi Minh and the Walking Street. We saw thick hot coffee, giant melting middle pizza and rooftop bars.
Ben Tre and a little girl surrounded by creatures and coconuts. The myriad ways in which their lives could have gone, and all that brought them together to this very spot. These are all at once alive in my mind. With little thought or expectation these strange connections had given me whole new journeys to places I could never have seen by myself.
Although my fierce independence and failing batteries would gladly have me spend every second of this trip alone. I feel already richer that I have not.
I’ll always be the tired looking one on the edge of the group photo, but I love being there all the same.
