Almost having clouted the village idiot's head off during the night I was ready to head out of this town. As hospitable as the villagers had been I didn't want to risk my luck anymore. But there was one more hurdle to escaping this town...
The Kingpin, as I coined him to be, lived across the river from the town. The only house across the bridge. The sole occupant that lived on the eastern side of the river. Opposite to the side that I slept on. Well, he came and sought me out this morning after hearing about my woes with the idiot. Village news travels fast I guess.
Kingpin invited me into his home for some breakfast. I could tell all this by his body language. But most of all, I couldn't resist his Cheshire grin. He had a spring in his step as he rustled together a fried rice and pork dish. I'm sure some of the salty seasoning came from his brow. The dish itself was delicious, along with the beer that I couldn't not drink. I promise I did try and refuse the drink but there was no 'no' in Kingpins body language repertoire.
I spied about the house while Kingpin was putting some serious elbow grease into making my first meal of the day. At first I saw these humongous plastic sacks filled to the brim wooden pegs with and sealed with wire. On a visual inspection they seemed like pretty good quality. Next, I followed the sound of the clicking to the stairwell. At the base I saw granny slipping the pegs together seamlessly using some contraption. Did she put all those pegs together.
After the scrumptious breakfast and beer tea was on the agenda. Kingpin has one of those tea displays only found in a tea shop. Those round exquisite numbers looking very gentle yet elegant on center stage. The tea tray itself was a table complete with electric water boiler and pump. It was perfectly laid out to hold the clean cups and dry tea leaves on one side leaving ample space for a generous number of people to be entertained by their host. Today it was only Kingpin, myself and the interpreter.
After more than sufficient time has passed while I explained my route and getting of the comments of bewilderment I excused myself as I still had a long way to get back to South Africa. This being taken as a suitable excuse to leave I was allowed to continue... only after the obligatory photo session with every member of the village.
Finally out I tackled the looming hill with surprising ease. I regret one thing from my stay in the mysterious village. I didn't get the interpreters WeChat address.
On the other side of the I heard this enchanting singing from a temple not far off from the road.
The Kingpin, as I coined him to be, lived across the river from the town. The only house across the bridge. The sole occupant that lived on the eastern side of the river. Opposite to the side that I slept on. Well, he came and sought me out this morning after hearing about my woes with the idiot. Village news travels fast I guess.
Kingpin invited me into his home for some breakfast. I could tell all this by his body language. But most of all, I couldn't resist his Cheshire grin. He had a spring in his step as he rustled together a fried rice and pork dish. I'm sure some of the salty seasoning came from his brow. The dish itself was delicious, along with the beer that I couldn't not drink. I promise I did try and refuse the drink but there was no 'no' in Kingpins body language repertoire.
I spied about the house while Kingpin was putting some serious elbow grease into making my first meal of the day. At first I saw these humongous plastic sacks filled to the brim wooden pegs with and sealed with wire. On a visual inspection they seemed like pretty good quality. Next, I followed the sound of the clicking to the stairwell. At the base I saw granny slipping the pegs together seamlessly using some contraption. Did she put all those pegs together.
After the scrumptious breakfast and beer tea was on the agenda. Kingpin has one of those tea displays only found in a tea shop. Those round exquisite numbers looking very gentle yet elegant on center stage. The tea tray itself was a table complete with electric water boiler and pump. It was perfectly laid out to hold the clean cups and dry tea leaves on one side leaving ample space for a generous number of people to be entertained by their host. Today it was only Kingpin, myself and the interpreter.
After more than sufficient time has passed while I explained my route and getting of the comments of bewilderment I excused myself as I still had a long way to get back to South Africa. This being taken as a suitable excuse to leave I was allowed to continue... only after the obligatory photo session with every member of the village.
Finally out I tackled the looming hill with surprising ease. I regret one thing from my stay in the mysterious village. I didn't get the interpreters WeChat address.
On the other side of the I heard this enchanting singing from a temple not far off from the road.
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