Everything that was graveyard-white is now scrubby-green with patches of white, even here at what appears to be the top of the world. The pressure on my body is rough; I’m so glad we will descend. It’s like my heart and lungs are being squeezed, though it’s not unbearable but noticeable. I wonder how I will fare at higher altitudes when I eventually venture to towns further into the high latitudes.
Just before noon, we just pass the mountain with the boulders that spell out “The Love Song of Kangding”, signifying the famous mountain and its eponymous song. This bus ride is a heck of a lot less scary than the minibus ride last time! The driver goes slower and is more cautious. There is no ventilation in the bus, and it is hot and stuffy with the bright sun, at such a high altitude. Of course, it is interesting (well, on this trip I can say “interesting”) to be passed by another bus on a curve. The other bus passes both our bus and another tractor-trailer truck. Also, I can’t get over all the cyclists slowly pedal-trudging up the mountain pass; what endurance! I wonder how far they ride between overnights, considering all the switchbacks, elevation gain, weather variance—not to mention all the traffic! I think it would be fun, terrible, and an extraordinary accomplishment!
At 12:18 we pass through the tiny village of Ji Tou, at least I think that is the name; it could simply be the name of that one hotel among the 10 Tibetan-style buildings welcoming you to the rest of the village. Here, every other building is a hotel or inn, with the largest building being an obnoxiously grand police station. That overdone pretentiousness seems to be a pattern in at least this part of Sichuan. I don’t know if this is a village, or why there are 20 hotels in a village of 25 buildings.
Toward the end of the bus journey, for the past 15 minutes or so, (it’s 12:44), we’ve been stuck in a traffic jam on this two-lane road. It has become very slow going into Kangding and frequently, we wait at a dead stop, while the driver itches to light his cigarette during our pauses. When we arrive, I ask to be let off in the downtown square and lug my carry-on up the short set of stairs to Himalayan Coffee. I am exhausted from lack of sleep and being up at 5am; don’t know if a cappuccino will help, but it sure can’t hurt!
The weather app warned of scattered showers, but I sat on a stuffy bus with high altitude sunshine burning my skin, and had to remove my fleece! Even in Lucheng, the main town center of Kangding, I disembarked with sunglasses on, to bright sunny skies and a hot sun, offset only slightly by a slightly chilly breeze.
As I came out of the temple, the sky was no longer kidding! The KABOOMS I’d heard were not accompanying the other construction sounds, they resounded from well above the surrounding ridges that ring the city, and seemed to come from everywhere, directly overhead, and right next to my ear, all at once! The denizens and tourists were scurrying about like a monsoon was approaching—or a plague. We were all cowering under the explosions, contracted and hunched, awaiting the next one. Earlier I had decided to walk up the hill (15 minutes of steep elevation and 698 steps, if I recall) to the inn, rather than call a taxi for the roundabout route, and with another punch from above, I started to regret that. I also started walking much faster. The sky, the wind, the lightning, the thunder, all portended a serious rainstorm. Fat drops began to splat the sidewalk, though only a few, and inconsistently; I thought I might get lucky and make it to the top before all hell broke loose from the now scary, blackened sky. I made it up the hill, my calves and quads screaming, my carry-on banging along the grooved concrete, increasing my drag and decreasing my speed and endurance, as the booming from above spurred me with fearsome encouragement. I arrived huffing and puffing to the driveway of my inn just as the clouds coalesced into one big storm on top of me!
After settling in, a pot of welcoming cha (tea), and a rest, dinner was served. Once again, Nu Wen invited me to join them for dinner. The food made me wish I had skipped lunch! The food is so savory and inviting, nourishing and healthy! Multiple dishes with multiple flavors, yet complementing each other, accompanied by a big pot of rice! I ate what I thought was some sort of short, flat noodle; it turned out to be made from rice (cooked rice ground into a flour) and it was chewy and full of flavor. There were chilled “salad” type dishes, not salad in the western sense, but vegetables with various spices and savories, served chilled, such as eggplant prepared two different ways, and another vegetable dish that was super-spicy and delicious! So, so, so thrillingly good. And of course, enjoying the company of these lovely women who are such gracious hosts. Nu Wen told me that she will offer my meals gratis, since I am by myself. So nice!
Although it’s early, I am soon going to sleep. I am anxious to arise early and meet the trail! My plan is to hike the two other mountains I missed last time, Ju Lian, and Paoma. There are also two Tibetan restaurants to try: even though I can eat here for free, I want to experience a meal or two out. Maybe I’ll depart early, return for lunch and a nap, then head out on a second trail or to one of the museums, and of course, the temple.