I cycled up a gorgeous valley with small villages dotted along the river side. A very rural area with terrace rice fields and orchards. The main fruit were pears with the occasional grape vine.
The road coasted gently upwards higher into the mountains. It was a hot hot day, as every day is. I got relief from the beating sun from the breeze blowing down and the occasional puffy cloud that drifted in front of the sun casting a refreshing shadow.
Every few kilometres of pedaling I'd take a break at a roadside stall to buy some local snacks (mostly fruit) and a drink.
Some 60km up stream at the head of the valley I faced a cliffside, where the road wound upwards, switch back after switch back.
Being the end of the day I decided to tackle this beast in the morning. I approached some of the local population to enquire where I could pitch my tent for the night. After some confusion the crowd that gathered (crowds always seem to gather) declared I could sleep in the village's cultural hall. I felt very welcome.
After depositing my bike in the hall I was lead to a pond in the now steam where I could take a swim to freshen up. I took the opportunity to wrinse out my sweaty clothing too.
This is when the village idiot had gotten into the hall and rifled through my bags. When I got back from my swim I found another, some what irate, crowd had gathered inside the hall around my bike and belongings. Still dripping wet I had to deal with and placate the individuals who had accosted the 'thief'. Through much humorous body language it was communicated to me that the idiot wasn't in fact all there and was just plain and simple 'the village idiot'. From a similar character back home I knew he meant no malice.
The crowd was relieved to see my calm candor and apparent disinterest. Nothing was actually missing and I just wanted the folks to disperse so that I could change out of my soaked boxer shorts and cover my semi naked body before the mosquitoes attacked (imagine the scene of me standing in wet underwear surrounded by babbling Chinese folks having a go at the village idiot. They didn't seem to take notice of my near nakedness).
The relived villages eventually got on their way doing their evening villager business and left me in peace to dry off and put some clothes on.
Much later that night (after a spot of gambling) the village idiot came and paid me another visit in my slumber. Being startled awake I sent him on his not so merry way. The whole experience was some what comical. I think the villagers will laugh at the memory.
The road coasted gently upwards higher into the mountains. It was a hot hot day, as every day is. I got relief from the beating sun from the breeze blowing down and the occasional puffy cloud that drifted in front of the sun casting a refreshing shadow.
Every few kilometres of pedaling I'd take a break at a roadside stall to buy some local snacks (mostly fruit) and a drink.
Some 60km up stream at the head of the valley I faced a cliffside, where the road wound upwards, switch back after switch back.
Being the end of the day I decided to tackle this beast in the morning. I approached some of the local population to enquire where I could pitch my tent for the night. After some confusion the crowd that gathered (crowds always seem to gather) declared I could sleep in the village's cultural hall. I felt very welcome.
After depositing my bike in the hall I was lead to a pond in the now steam where I could take a swim to freshen up. I took the opportunity to wrinse out my sweaty clothing too.
This is when the village idiot had gotten into the hall and rifled through my bags. When I got back from my swim I found another, some what irate, crowd had gathered inside the hall around my bike and belongings. Still dripping wet I had to deal with and placate the individuals who had accosted the 'thief'. Through much humorous body language it was communicated to me that the idiot wasn't in fact all there and was just plain and simple 'the village idiot'. From a similar character back home I knew he meant no malice.
The crowd was relieved to see my calm candor and apparent disinterest. Nothing was actually missing and I just wanted the folks to disperse so that I could change out of my soaked boxer shorts and cover my semi naked body before the mosquitoes attacked (imagine the scene of me standing in wet underwear surrounded by babbling Chinese folks having a go at the village idiot. They didn't seem to take notice of my near nakedness).
The relived villages eventually got on their way doing their evening villager business and left me in peace to dry off and put some clothes on.
Much later that night (after a spot of gambling) the village idiot came and paid me another visit in my slumber. Being startled awake I sent him on his not so merry way. The whole experience was some what comical. I think the villagers will laugh at the memory.
No comments:
Post a Comment