It's raining this morning, the day
that I will leave Ascension House, the same sort of heavy drizzle that soaked
through my suitcases when I came here almost a month ago. I'm drinking my
second cup of strong coffee and trying to make out the silhouettes of hills
through the fog, without any success. It should be good and muddy when I take
my suitcases back up the hill to the Christian Center and call a taxi to take
me to the MTR station. That's terrific--the mud on my suitcase wheels has just
begun to flake away and I would hate to travel without it.
I am not a
jungle-dweller, I've discovered. When faced with a monkey the size of an adult
border collie, I turn back and take an alternate (longer) route. And then I
book an urban hotel--I'm just that kind of girl.
Maybe because my
formative years were filled with mud and mosquitos, I have a real aversion to
those things. The hotel I'm going to later in the day will have small rooms,
smaller bathrooms, and quite possibly noise from other occupants. Been there,
done that, and I know it well. I like that.
And I did life in the
wild kingdom for almost a month, a feat that I would be proud of if a large
monkey, taking up the entire pathway hadn't cut my visit short by five days. On
the other hand, there is sanity to be considered, and I treasure my tenuous
grasp on mine. Five days in the midst of Kowloon, with excursions back to
Shatin, Tai Po, and Sai Kung is just fine with me.
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