Walks, Shoots, and Leaves
Walks, Shoots, and Leaves
Walking the familiar and the unfamiliar
I am in Hong Kong right now and the photograph above depicts the path up to High Junk Peak that is increasingly familiar to me.
One of the benefits of retirement is that you have time. Well, maybe not in an existential sense. But I am able to take longer trips than when I was constrained by work, limited holidays and the kids’ school schedule.
The difference all that time makes to me when I travel is that I am much less inclined to tick off a list of must-sees wherever I am. I visit London frequently but have never been to the Tower of London, and I am fine with that. Nor have I ever been up the Eiffel Tower.
Often, I just like to walk and take photographs when I am travelling as when I am home. Of course there is a basic tension between the two. It may not interrupt a walk to take the occasional snap. But when you decide you will wait for a particular cloud to make its way to a particular place, or for a bus to get out of the way, it’s a different matter.
This can be a problem if you are walking with someone who wants to get on with things, whether you are travelling or at home.
When I am in Ottawa, every week or two I have a stroll with my friend, Ross, who is an excellent photographer, and we focus on the pictures, not our speed or the distance travelled. I have a photo file labelled “Ross Walks” on my computer. Here are a couple of the hundreds I have stored there.
Wherever I am, a principal pleasure is walking in an only semi-intentional way. Earlier this year, my friend Jim and I headed out for a ramble on Hampstead Heath, but as we made our way from the Tube, we noticed we were near Highgate Cemetery, home of the remains of Gabriele Rosetti, George Eliot, Herbert Spencer, Ralph Richardson, Bob Hoskins, and most famous of all, Karl Marx. After having nearly circumnavigated the entire large cemetery twice in opposite directions, we found the entrance, as well as other important facilities.
We logged more than 30,000 steps that day, so there are also health benefits to this flexible approach.
But for me, walking or hiking on vacation, as at home, does not always need to be about novelty. In fact, I frequently find some place pleasant to walk wherever I am and return to it repeatedly. I have written before about my almost daily walks out along The Cobb in Lyme Regis, Dorset where my sister lives, when I am visiting there.
As I said above, I am currently in Hong Kong, where one of my brothers has lived with his family for more than 25 years. In a few days, I will post about sightseeing in Central and Kowloon, going on the Star Ferry, visiting the Palace Museum and attending the Hong Kong Rugby Sevens.
But I’d say one highlight of this visit for me has been a walk out their back door in the New Territories of Hong Kong.
This is aforementioned High Junk Peak. It got its name because it overlooks a fishing village that harboured the flat-bottomed sailing vessels called junks once favoured by fisherfolk here.
I have hiked up to the peak roughly every second day since I have been in Hong Kong. The trail is mostly through a thick tropical forest, but occasionally it opens up to offer stunning views of Hong Kong.
Each time I go up, I become a little more familiar with the trail. There is a stand of bamboo about two-thirds of the way up to the first lookout, which is itself about three-quarters of the way to the peak in terms of distance, but probably no more than halfway in terms of effort. I am no longer guessing where I am or how much energy I need in reserve.
I don’t listen to music or podcasts when I am walking on the trail. I listen to the music of cicadas and unfamiliar birds.
On one occasion, my brother came up High Junk Peak with me, which was good because he told me about the wild boars that interrupted his walk along the same path with another one of our brothers not long ago. I confess I am a bit jealous, though I suppose I might feel differently if I suddenly found a pack of them blocking my path.
But most days, I ascend on my own. The first few times, I took a lot of photographs. Now, I only do if I see something in a way I haven’t before. The path is becoming familiar. It makes me feel a little bit at home.
Always a delight to read, Paul - and pics are equally great
Your Mud lake photo has Monet Water Lily Pond qualities.
Fun story and wonderful glimpses as usual.