Bruce Lee days... To new lands.

In my final days in China I visit a vast tea market to purchase some fine quality goods. Apart from that, most of the final days before Hong Kong are mostly idle waiting, though I manage to find some appropriate gifts.

In Hong Kong I meet friends again, starting with a welcome lunch and being shown around town a little. I managed to shake the typhoon off my trail back in Japan, but it found me again in Hong Kong. Unimpressed by heavy rain and fallen trees, we drop my still cumbersome luggage at my friend's apartment and head to a market to purchase ingredients for the night's dinner. My friends remember my kitchen skills from when they visited my home and I gladly offer to prepare dinner in exchange for lodging.

Despite the weather I go out with one of my friends the next day to see three Avenue of Stars and pose for a picture next to the statue of Bruce Lee. We also visit a marketplace where we strike a bargain for a Bruce Lee T-shirt shirt, which is nice. On the evening I cook again, this time a speciality of mine that turns out to be a modified version of Shanghai dumplings. My friend's mother plays lottery, using my birthyear as one of her lucky numbers.

In the morning my friend's family treats me to a massive breakfast, courtesy of the mother, who won a sum of money from the lottery. I write down dishes that I like in Asia to my journal and ask my friend to also mark down the Chinese names, in proper characters and phonetically, of the Chinese and Hong Kong ones.

After sending my second parcel home, I spend the day in Mong Kok eyeing the shopping district but refraining from buying anything. I check into a guesthouse after slightly haggling the price down. This area would be simply great for practising that particular skill. In the evening I eat some delicious food from street stalls before tucking in for the night.

Come morning, I dig out my deck of cards and work half a Karl Gotch Bible to wake myself up. I meet my friend one more time for lunch and make my way to there airport to catch my flight, only to find out it has been canceled due to weather conditions. I wonder if the sun catches the pilots' eyes in such a terrible way, as the skies are clear in both Hong Kong and Taiwan. After queuing for quite a while, I am transferred to another airline and make it to a new land only an hour later than expected. There I meet friends again, and we drive to a teahouse on a mountain near Taipei to have fine tea under a starry sky. There is nothing more I could ask for.

All the roads we have to walk are winding.

I wake up early to catch the sunrise. After a short time of waiting I start my descent, visiting all other peaks but the West peak in the process. My former fear of heights seems to be almost completely gone.

I am quite happy with my decision to take on the mountains alone. Though the experience is worthy of sharing, climbing alone bears a certain boast and a different feeling of accomplishment. In addition, I cannot think of many others who would agree to sleep on bare stone or keep up with the pace I took to ascend.

After descending from Mt. Hua I read it is considered one of the most dangerous hiking trails in the world. This information changes nothing, and would not have changed a thing even if I had known it before climbing. It is still morning, and after having lunch for breakfast I set out to find a hostel to stay at. I happen into a supremely cheap place, which is approximately the dirtiest place I have ever spent time in. Hardly anything works, but I do not care. I rest for a while before going out to town to kill time and have dinner. In the evening I do some slight training in my grimy room, take a shower and rest.

The next day I return to Zhengzhou to meet my friend at the train station. That day we only rest, and on the following days we spend quite a deal of time only having tea and discussions. We also visit an antique market, where I purchase some curiosities and gifts. A mute artisan carves me a name chop out of onyx, and I am fairly sure I shall scarcely use it.

Before leaving for Guangzhou, I want to take all I can from the discussions , so we stay up late over tea every night until my departure. I find it peculiar that this could happen, though it is what I awaited from the visit. A chance encounter from almost a year ago left me with a dear friend.

Finally it is time to leave early in the morning. There are no hard goodbyes, merely a promise to meet again. My road takes me through Wuhan to Guangzhou, which means spending another whole day in a train. This gives me time to think. Again. The road is long and winding indeed.

Stranger in a strange land... No limit.

I am writing this at the Southern Peak of Mt. Hua, elevation 2154,9 metres. It took me just short of five hours to get here.

During my first days in Henan, I am taken to Luo Yan grottoes to see enough Buddhas for a lifetime, Bai Ma temple to see some more and a family dinner where people immediately make the assumption that I wish to marry my friend. Reminds me of a similar assumption made by certain other people in the past.

I am also taken to Shaolin Temple by my friend and her friends, but at this point relics are not very interesting to me. Also, someone loses our tickets so we cannot go see the monks give a martial arts presentation. I do not much care, as things quickly got to a point where the rest speak Chinese among themselves and I, hating to interrupt, leave myself out of the conversation completely. In the evening, as another person joins, I learn how to make steamed buns and take a long walk. People stare at me on the street quite shamelessly.

In the evening I am informed that the plans of travelling with my friend have changed completely. There would be another person accompanying us to mountains and a trip around China is not going to happen. I think long and hard during the night and wake up early to catch my friend and inform her that all things considered, it is best if I go to the mountains alone. Both of us are upset at how the situation has evolved, but after an argument, discussion and agreement, it is decided that I will take to the mountains alone.

And I am glad that I do. I first go to Mt. Tai. The train trip there is pure torment, nine hours in a car with people with no sense of personal space at all. The mountain is quite disappointing. At first, naturally I am worried if I do it alone, and I think I must be crazy to climb a mountain in the dark. It turns out there is no climbing involved, and it is merely a three-hour hike up some stairs. At the top I rent a coat and sleep on a rock basin for a few hours before waking up to see the sunrise. Sadly it is very cloudy and not much can be seen. I sleep for a while longer in a nook without wind and hike back down to kill time before hopping on a train back to Zhengzhou. Arriving, I get a ride on a flimsy vehicle, the main building materials of which seem to be optimism and the sense of danger. This is not helped by the driver going against the stream on one-way streets.

The next day I take on Mt. Hua, which is considerably less a pleasant walk to scenic places. The climb takes some time and I do not stop for sightseeing as it is already dark, but at last I reach the Southern Peak. There, I dry my clothes a little in the wind, have a modest supper, find a place with the least wind and fall asleep so hard I am sure my body leaves an imprint on the stone.

In transit, in waiting.

Three cheers for The Party, which forbids me from publishing photos while here. I will update these entries from the jurisdiction of Hong Kong.

After waking up, I almost immediately leave for the train station after thanking my host for the night. I buy the first possible ticket for Zhengzhou and set out to kill time, which is a little easier said than done when one does not speak the local language.

I make it to Tiananmen square to check out the sights there a little. As someone who is decidedly unimpressed about sights, especially urban ones, it does not take too long for me to simply start strolling about and thinking about what to do next. It is then that I run into someone offering tours to the great wall and, when I say I have no time for it, to just guide me about town for a while. I agree, and express my wishes for tea. This one takes me to a famed tea house where I gladly drink some Longjing tea. Due to my guide's limited skill of English and my nonexistent skill of Chinese, conversation is not very deep, but good to pass the time nonetheless.

After tea I ask if I could have lunch and am promptly taken to a nearby restaurant to remind myself how much I like Chinese food. I thank my guide and catch a taxi to the train station. It seems I miscalculated and therefore miss the train. I head to the ticket office to exchange my ticket, and when the person behind the glass says the next available ticket is tomorrow, I almost want to start a fight. However, another person manages to inform me that for a small extra fee I can take the train after two hours in first class. I do not need to think twice.

The trip is uneventful. In the evening I meet my friend, who is a sight for sore eyes. Arriving to her home, it is time for supper and soon for rest.

Goodbyes and greetings.

On the day second to last in Japan, I meet a girl who was hosted by my family some seven years ago. Though we merely walk around before a light dinner, I have once again the wonderful feeling that everything is taken care of. After having dinner and exchanging pleasantries we part ways, and before I return to my host's home, I make a final visit to the Weird Café in Osaka Station City. There people there seem surprised and happy to see that I come back alive to redeem the promise I made as I took my leave earlier. I wait until closing time to catch another photo of them. This time I am also in the photo with them.

The next day I send a parcel to myself. I should remember to send a written permission to my friend so that he can pick the parcel up in my place. The rest of the afternoon passes on trains and waiting for check-in.

As a coincidence, the only non-Asian person on there plane sits next to me. We chat for the duration of the flight, transit and next flight, as our destination is the same. Arriving in Beijing, I meet my new, Bosnian acquaintance's two friends, one from Taiwan and the other from China. Everyone speaks Japanese, which is then used as the lingua franca for the evening. These new faces help me check for train schedules. As there is no night train to where I want to be and meet my friend, they invite me to hunt for a hostel to stay at. None can be found, since I have no reservation and most places are fully booked at this time. We divide the group into two, two staying at a hostel where they have a booking and me and the Chinese one continuing our search. After a while of driving around and coming up empty-handed, she makes the judgement that I am not a bad man and says I can stay at her hotel room for the night and that she will help me catch a train in the morning.

The friendliness, shower and comfortable bed are welcome and it does not take long for me to fall asleep. It would be an early morning the next day.

From Dragon Gate back to Comedian's town.

The final days in Kyoto are enjoyable. For the most part I simply enjoy the feeling of the town and Kamogawa river as well as the company of my host and her other guests. We enter a language exchange party, which turns out to be less than thrilling. Mostly people stick to their own tables with people they already know. After eating, I slightly chat with a young man sitting next to me.  He seems bored out of his wits, and I talk him into going somewhere with me. He does not put up a fight.

After all we end up mostly walking around some streets and talking about nothing in particular. Bars seem to be a perfect storm of boring and too expensive so we do not go inside. I am corrected about my blue-eyed assumption that "girls bars" are posh establishments only females may enter. After walking around for a while we exchange contact information and go our separate ways.

The next day promises me one thing and one thing only. Regardless of that, I still visit the Gion area to see a garden and check out shopping possibilities. There I buy two scarves that I end up tying around my messenger bag. They might come in handy as torques, or at least to tie around my hear to prevent sweat from dripping into my eyes when things get hot.

In the evening I go to see a show of Dragon Gate Pro. As expected, it is amazing. After the show I go to exchange a word with the champion trio of Masato Yoshino, Naruki Doi and Pac, asking for a photo together with them as well as Dragon Kid and BxB Hulk. The Englishman takes the lead in the conversation, telling me that if I can wait until they are finished with autographs, he will find me in the arena for the photographs. Indeed he does, and immediately tells me I speak perfect Japanese. He and his teammates briefly lament the absence of an audience in Finland, as they assure me they would want to perform there as well. If only...

Pac then disappears to go find the other two, and quickly comes back to inform me they are coming right up. My language skills are again commended before the pictures. I cannot tell if BxB Hulk is discomfited by the situation, or just playing his heel role very well. Afterwards, I make my way to base to prepare dinner.

The next day I move back to Himeji for two nights. It is mostly uneventful, though I visit a hot spring bath in a nearby town. My host is the same as last time, and he is polite as ever. He seems a little sickly, which makes me feel slightly uncomfortable. I find a host in Osaka for the remainder of my stay in Japan. This one is more lively and reminds me of two people I have met earlier. Without a clear plan I merely walk to a post office nearby to purchase a box in which I can send excess baggage home while my host goes to pick up groceries. Afterwards we have dinner and then talk until I am exhausted and go to sleep.

Nothing like the rain... Ise revisited.

With no clear plan in sight for a day, I head to Ise, where I went near the beginning of my trip. On the way there it starts to rain. Naturally I forgot to take my umbrella with me.

I find my way back to the old part of town near the inner shrine I visited earlier. By this time it is really pouring. I walk around for a while and note that two of the tea shops I saw on the earlier visit are closed. I then sit down to eat at the same restaurant I went to earlier, and have exactly the same Ise speciality noodles with fried prawn I had last time. Before I leave there, my waiter insists that I take an umbrella from the ones they have lying around at the shop. This is a nice surprise.

I then take a look at one of the tea shops. After a long, hard search, I end up buying a small teapot. It is not perfect, but close to it.

When I decide it is time to leave, I ask for directions at a convenience store, promptly being guided to the nearest station. At the parking lot, a man in a car signals me and asks if I am going to the station and says he can give me a ride. For a moment I stall for time and try to figure out if he wants something. Turns out he does, but it is only to save me the trouble of walking to the station. Not all goodwill is gone from the world.