I'd rather be elsewhere. We came here before. And I still have difficulty being a fan of military museums. You can probably tell from the things I choose to photograph. See these shapes? They're interesting, don't you think?
I'm finding this very frustrating, returning here rather than taking advantage of what's over there.
Because it is hiking season in Hong Kong. For that, read, the weather is now cool enough to walk the mountain trails.
But am I walking them? I am not.
I am 100% irritated by what I am about to say - I can feel the irritable bowel syndrome squeezing my insides right now - but I cannot walk those remote trails without assistance. More specifically, the assistance of someone who has a sense of direction.
Now everyone should understand why I stay married to Dig. Only he can find the way out of the paper bag.
It is difficult for people to believe - especially if they attempt to cross Nathan Road, ride the trams, or get off the underground at Mong Kok - but not every inch of Hong Kong has seven million people standing on it.
Hong Kong has beautiful remote mountain areas where there are no people, no sodium lights, no street signs, and - horror of horrors to the directionally challenged Grit - choice of more than one route.
Now I dare not embark on those trails offering me more than one route if there are only kids alongside me. Twenty minutes in, and Shark will say, with her usual hint of contempt, Mummy, do you know where you're going?
I will begin to doubt. Tiger's radar will pick up my fake laugh. She will ask in a trembling voice, Where are we going? Mummy? Is this the right way?
I will answer brightly, Yes, of course it's the right way! But a little creeping doubt will niggle in my mind. What if she has an intuition I do not? Back there? We took a left, and we had the choice of a right.
Think about it. She has inherited Dig's sense of direction. I had to rely on her to lead me out the Elements Shopping Mall. I was in there an hour trying to find the exit before she took control.
The silence will be broken with, Are you sure? Mummy? MUMMY? MUMMMYYYYY? WE ARE LOST! LOST! LOST!
In an instant, panic will spread amongst the masses. Squirrel will photograph every tree as a desperate means of finding her way out again, Shark will stomp off in a huff saying IT IS THIS WAY, Tiger will fall to the ground in tears. Then ten hours later, alone on the mountainside, in the dark, we will all die. The End.
I know it will go like that because it has damn near happened before.
So even though I so dearly want to head up the mountains and across those trails, and even though I am so totally pissed off by my own inadequacies in this department, I know it is wise to wait a little longer for a responsible adult to pass this way, take me by the hand, and lead me and the mini grits safely over the mountain trails. (And if it all goes bellyup, I can blame them.)
2 comments:
It's too bad that you can't bring a GPS with you and use it. That way you'd always now where you are. But you know, it's when you begin to doubt yourself that hysteria creeps in. You mustn't let yourself be influenced by the triplets too much. Does the island have a map of the trails? Surely there must be one. You could always scatter bread crumbs.
sympathy, all solutions have their buit in methods of tripping you up.
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