A haphazard chronicle of my inevitable misadventures during a year in Vietnam and points east.

p.s. I'll be pitifully grateful if you send me email during my exile: TravelerKaty@hotmail.com

October 2002 November 2002 December 2002 January 2003 February 2003 March 2003 April 2003 May 2003 June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 November 2003 February 2006 March 2006 May 2006

 
Emei Shan, China

Day 1 of the Emei Shan Mountain trek was a very long day. My ankle still hurt a bit when I woke up, so I decided to take the bus to the top and walk down the mountain, ratherr than walking up. OK, I admit it, this plan has been in my mind for some time. It was a plan based on pure laziness, plus a generalized loathing for climbing stairs. And Emei Shan has in the neighborhood of 2500 vertical meters, which translates into about 8200 feet worth of rock or concrete stairs. Whichever way you slice it, I wimped out, and I'm not at all sorry, particularly after watching some of the poor saps heading uphill.

Have I ever mentioned how I love to go for long walks in the rain? No, I didn't think so, because I hate it with a white-hot passion. I hate feeling wet, I hate wearing plastic over my clothing, I hate it when I sweat under the plastic and get my clothes wet anyway, I hate not being able to see through the droplets on my glasses, I hate walking on slippery rocks, and I hate it when my watch fogs up on the inside. Are you getting the idea that it rained during my hike, or am I being too subtle?

The first two hours of the hike were grim, no two ways about it. I hiked up (see, I can do some "up") to where you catch the cable car to the summit if you're too lazy to hike (which I am). It was raining so hard and the clouds were so dense that I figured it would be a waste of time and money to attempt it, so I slogged back down, getting ever wetter despite my previously reliable 15 cent baby blue plastic rain slicker I bought in Saigon. I was basically cursing the day I ever thought of coming to Emei Shan. I was wet, miserable, extremely cranky, and the clouds were so low that there was no view whatsoever. However, since there was no way I was going to hike back up to the bus stop at that point, I soldiered on.

Things did indeed get better after lunch, as the deluge metamorphosed into "light rain" then "sprinkling" and then "scattered showers". Can you tell I've spent lots of time listening to Seattle weather reports? In fact the weather got decent enough for me to appreciate the scenery and take a few photos that will never come out because it was too dark.

To provide a little background material (a little late in the day, I admit -- I was way too obsessed by the weather to start out with exposition today) Emei Shan ("shan" means mountain in Chinese) is one of China's four Buddhist holy mountains, and by the 14th century there were around 100 holy structures housing several thousand monks. Not much of this reemains, however, as most buildings fell victim to fire, war, or the cultural revolution. Today there are around twenty temples and monasteries, some restored, and several offering lodging for the night for exhausted pilgrims and hikers. The Chinese government is very proud of the mountain and how it has been preserved, and appears to be in the habit of bestowing honors on it every couple of years. Thus, Emei Shan has been officially honored as a "Sanitary Mountain", "Safe Mountain", "Civilized Mountain", "The Advanced Unit for Managing and protection Wrold Class natural Heritage of China [sic]" and "The Civilized Sightseeing Sample of China." With all these accolades, it is very popular with Chinese tourists, though relatively few of them walk the whole thing like the insane foreign backpackers do. Most take a bus to near the top, hike 20 minutes and take the gondola to the Golden Summit where they might have a chance of seeing "Buddha's Light". This phenomenon reportedly occurs only 14 times a year, at dawn on unpredictable days, and when it happens you can see your shadow cast from the peak into the mist before you, with a colorfully glowing halo surrounding the head as though you had achieved enlightenment. I have my doubts about that whole concept, but it definitely sells tickets.

The setup at Emei is as follows. There's a little soulless tourist village at the bottom, utterly commercialized, with enticing road names such as "Tourist Commodity Street" and "Famouse [sic] Snack Street". There is more than one route to the Golden Summit, so there's very little backtracking involved if you're extra-energetic and decide to walk up and down, which takes a minimum of three days. As I had talked to Nathan, the friendly Chinese cafe owner in town, I simply chose the most scenic of the various paths.

I would describe the area, having no real understanding of climate zones whatsoever, as a temperate rainforest. And that's not just because it includes the word "rain" -- the whole place is overrun with trees and vegetationn. The walk, once the rain stopped and I got over my crabbiness, was truly lovely in an eerie, misty way, with wispy clouds floating through verdant canyons, waterfalls crashing through rocks and down steep cliffs, and chattering streams winding throughout. Even the path itself was scenic, made in the usual Chinese labor-intensive mannerr with large attractive stones mortared together into uneven but very sturdy steps. Every fifteen or twenty minutes you come upon a building of some sort selling hot food, drinks, walking sticks and rain gear.

After walking way farther than my poor muscles would have liked, I put up for the night at the Venerable Trees Terrace Monestary. When I arrived I was treated to the sight of five monks huddled around a small television watching a children's program. One was willing to break free and show ttme to an extremely spartan room with a lovely view.

Then came the challenge of dinner. Unlike the other monasteries along the way, I had not seen a handy restaurant on the way in. In addition, I didn't think my feet would carry me any farther than the front gate. So I went on another Monk Hunt, this time traking one down in the kitchen. After an elaborate session of pointing, mimee andd writing in chinese on little pieces of paper involving me and three brown robed, fuzzy slippered monks, I managed to get a bowl of rice and some delicious spicy stir-fried eggs and tomatoes for a dollar.

On Day 2 I set off early in the morning, due to the gongs or bells or cymbals or whatever the hell they were that were calling the monks to action of some sort at the (to me) ungodly hour of five a.m. Actually, it was a bit surprising that I slept that long, considering I went to bed at 8 p.m., absolutely exhausted and sore. I can only imagine how tired I would have been if I had been going up those stairs.

The walk was as lovely as the day before, and included an "Ecological Monkey Reserve" with wooden walkways and stairs adn bridges all over the place. Frankly, having encountered these nasty, menacing, thieving macaques the previous day, I was in no way interested in visiting the "Platform for Teasing of The Monkeys" or the "Plank Road on Cliff Side for Teasing of Monkeys". Those monkeys didn't need teasing -- they needed a good shot with a taser. Thankfully, I was carrying what is popularly called a walking stick, but could more accurately be referred to as a back-off-you-wretched-growling-monkey stick.

The rest of the walk was uneventful, and I made it back to town in time to catch a bus to my next destination, Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan province. Relaxing in Chengdu is mandatory -- I don't know if my legs have ever been so sore. What kind of religious sadist thought up that whole stair-filled mountain pilgrimage idea? Although now that I think of it, one of the basic premises of Buddhism is that Life is Suffering. I guess I know what they mean now.


Click here for a site showing pictures of Emei Shan.

Copyright 2003 Katy Warren
posted by Katy at 12:25 AM