Who Will You End Up Traveling With?

My husband Sam agreed to write me a guest post after his recent trip to China.  However, he didn’t want to actually write it, so I’m ghost-writing it for him.  It’s a Guest Ghost Post.

When Sam was nine years old, living in Hong Kong, he met Ping, a family friend who was a college student. Sam looked up to Ping and was slightly intimidated by his intellect and seriousness, especially because Sam was a little troublemaker, always at odds with teachers and parents. Sam and Ping kept their respective distances from each other until Ping became a family member 15 years later when he married Esther, Sam’s older sister.

During the following years, our families lived near each other and got together for holidays and special occasions, looking after the older generation and watching the younger generation grow. Esther was the hub of our family wheel, and when she died of cancer four years ago, we all struggled to readjust in our relationships with each other. Ping and Sam, always on good terms but never intimate, began to find common interests: politics, religion, food. Then, they decided to take a trip together.

Neither of them had seen the Yellow Mountains, located in Anhui province, Sam’s father’s ancestral home, so they decided to go there. The Yellow Mountains are the Yosemite of China--big, beautiful, and enjoyable for everyone. They visited the Yellow Mountains, stopped over in Shanghai, and wrapped up the trip in Hong Kong.

The Yellow Mountains are not yellow.  They’re named after Huang Di, the Yellow Emperor.  Yellow symbolizes the Earth, which is one of the five elements make up the physical world.

They flew in to Huangshan, spent the night in a hotel at the base of the mountain (“the good hotel,” sorry no pictures). From their hotel window, they could see donkeys carrying their loads up the mountain. Donkey Power.

They went up the mountain in the cable car the next morning. China has some very exciting cable cars, and these are no exception.

To get to their mountaintop hotel (“the bad hotel”), the White Cloud Hotel, they had to haul their luggage across the mountain.  Good thing these guys are light packers. If you’re really tired, you can get a lift in a bamboo chair. Bamboo Uber? Bamboo-ber?

Look at those abs!  You’re welcome, ladies.

The hotel Sam picked had decent reviews, and their first sight of it was quite striking. The white building is the main hotel building.

I’m only showing you the nice part of the room.  Since I try to keep this blog on the positive side, I’m not going to show you the dirty walls, the moldy baseboards, or the haunted sink (it spread water over the whole floor no matter what they did). If Sam ever takes me to the Yellow Mountains, we’re going to stay in the other mountaintop hotel--it has the same reviews, but dignitaries stay there.  It’s gotta be better.

The hotel did, however, have a lovely buffet breakfast. The unrecognizable stuff in the round bowls is preserved vegetables, nuts, dried fruit. If you have never eaten buffet breakfast in a Chinese hotel, you’re missing out. All four major food groups, plus a bunch of stuff you can’t identify. Delicious and nutritious! Plus, if you time it right, you won’t need lunch. ​

They hiked around the mountains for two days. The paths are wide and well-maintained and there are restrooms along the way (which might be closed because the attendants are on a smoking break but hey that’s communism for you). The sights are magnificent, and you can buy roasted corn for a snack.

Sam tried his hand at some dramatic black and white shots. Nice!

The weather was usually bright and clear, but turned foggy the afternoon they left.  This turned the trip down on the cable car into a visual Descent into the Underworld.

These intrepid travelers had a four-hour layover at the Huangshan Airport, so what did they do? No stiff waiting-area plastic chairs for them! They went to the airport hotel (“the best hotel”), got a room and snacks, and had showers.  For four hours. All for $40.

Evening arrival in Hong Kong.

What do two Hong Kong natives do when they hit their hometown? They eat.

Another hotel breakfast buffet.  If you’re not yet convinced that you need to partake of a Chinese hotel breakfast buffet, come with me next time we go and I’ll take you.

Breakfast taken care of, they waddled over to their favorite mango restaurant.  Yes, a whole restaurant devoted to mostly mangoes. Mango pudding, mango jello, mango with tapioca, fresh mango, mango pastries, mango with unrecognizable but yummy sauce. Also chicken wings, because they’re delicious.

If someone had told Sam and Ping 50 years ago that they would travel together to China’s most beautiful mountains and have a great time eating, sightseeing, and relaxing together, I doubt they would have believed it. Losing Esther, wife and sister, made a hole that can never be filled. Things don’t always end up like you thought they would, but, thank God, sometimes you get joy where you didn’t expect it. ​