Le Voyage

A colleague introduced me to hiking about ten years ago. Although I am not a keen enthusiast, I try hiking once a month, except during the summer. Most of the time, I am a follower in a hiking group made up of colleagues from work or their family members. Knowing my own limitations, I never challenge myself to conquer famous peaks or dangerous spots in pursuit of this hobby. Instead, the unique periods of solitude with nature during a journey are the motivation that keeps me in this pastime.

On a Saturday in May 2016, we went on a popular but unlisted trail. Although it traverses a vast area of uninhabited land, it is not part of the country parks but a military restricted zone. Access to certain sections is prohibited, yet nobody seems to care about the warnings. At the start, the group leader jokingly told us that we had built up enough strength to attempt this trail. Honestly, the only challenge, I reckon, was the long, steep, and winding concrete uphill road. After the strenuous ascent, we were rewarded with a beautiful, gorge-like landscape and a long stretch of the estuary of the river that separates this city from the mainland. No wonder it was flooded with hikers and KOLs of social media. It was definitely one of the most unique trails I have travelled in the city. However, the leader reminded me not to hike alone in this area because I am hopeless at sensing direction, and some of the side trails can be treacherous.

In May 2021, I went on a solo hike on this trail, hoping to get some fresh air from the constant fear of catching the deadly coronavirus. Perhaps because some buildings around the start of the trail were temporarily locked down due to the spread of the virus, the trail was quiet, and I only met a few people throughout the journey. That was a special experience. With only the howls of the wind, the crunch of the sand under my feet, the chirps of the insects, and the tweets of the birds, most of the time I felt as if I had lost connection with time and was completely immersed in the wilderness. The solitude brought unusual joy, peace, and serenity. The red, yellow, orange, white, and grey rock formations and the different shades of green of the trees and bushes kept reminding me of the possibilities of nature and every living moment. I simply love that small slice of time.

Two years later, the hiking group almost disintegrated as most members found it more satisfying to travel abroad or to spend time and money in shopping malls and restaurants across the border. However, we had a reunion trip to this same trail to bid farewell to a colleague I had recently reconnected with. We used to work closely together for several years before she left after giving birth to a son. Her son and his father moved to live in the UK two years ago. The son settled down quickly and was going to start his first year of university study in September. Inevitably, she had to make the decision to join her family.

I was surprised at how our friendship rekindled so quickly after a gap of 18 years. We are not colleagues anymore, so she did not have to call me “boss”. Still, she offered me her belated appreciation for the efforts I put into work. It came late but warmed me. She was full of ambivalence and uncertainties about leaving for the UK. She was in her prime at work here but had prepared to restart from whatever position there. We had made decisions to venture into different places, but somehow, we met again momentarily at a crossroads.  Who knows if we will meet at another juncture in the future? She is a committed worker, and I wish her success in the new journey of life, though I believe it will be a challenging one. Seeing the landscape, I could see that she was overcome. She missed the place she had been in for nearly 50 years, let alone the bonds and love with her friends and extended family.

Early October this year, the old colleague who introduced me to hiking invited me to hike. We missed the time when our hiking group would meet every now and then, so we made efforts to invite others to join. Two retired colleagues showed interest, and we decided to go for this trail again since we all live near the start of it.

We started early on Thursday morning, the 16th October, and met many old folks walking uphill. One of us had to catch her breath very soon, so we adjusted our pace. That was fine, as it gave us more time to catch up on how life had been treating us.  She has been trying to regain her strength after a persistent chest infection and a nasty fall on the bus.

All morning exercisers seemed to stay around the large mid-hill clearing. As we walked deeper into the hilly area, we hardly saw other morning exercisers. After twenty minutes of walking, we started hearing distant rumbles and thought they were thuds of lorries unloading at the landfill. Soon after, the rumbles became more regular, and dark smoke started rising behind a distant headland opposite the landfill. A helicopter lifted off and hovered around the smoke. It became clear that they were conducting military training behind the headland. Part of the area must have been closed for military training, keeping the keen hikers away. We wondered if we could continue on the trail but decided to press on.

After ascending to a low elevation, I finally understood why we did not see any hikers or morning exercisers after the clearing. “What the heck is going on here?” I exclaimed. We expected to see the gorge-like landscape and the mini wilderness, but they became more like a stretch of patched badlands. Some clever individuals had made improvements to the unique landscape, making it safer and more accessible to drive through. Things worsened after we passed the gorges. Trees were felled, and trails were widened and paved with rough concrete. Spurs were cut back, and valleys were leveled with rocks mixed with domestic waste and cement to form large flat terraces with tire tracks crisscrossing all over the surfaces. We finally realized that the whole area was being turned into large stretches of barren land. We were completely disappointed and hastened to leave as soon as possible. This would be the last time I hiked this trail. If I were here again in the next one or two years, there would be construction sites everywhere. What a waste, I thought. But, the whole area has never been a country park before. It is a prohibited area with few markings on an official map. But soon, it will be well mapped.

We always choose a certain journey for a reason and insist on going on even when people dissuade us otherwise. The landscape and scenery of the selected journey may turn out quite different from what we expect or dream of. We can grumble, blame, and leave, or we can whine, protest, and change the scene. Unfortunately, in reality, only a few people can change the scene to fit their dreams. Still, we can enjoy the unexpected scenery as it unfolds itself. We may not avoid the inevitability of change, but we can accept it. We may be angry about the undesirables that are beyond our control, but we can choose to change ourselves.

This journey reminds me of the right to make changes in my own journey of life. Though, I fear that making changes is becoming harder and harder as I journey down the path.

I am surprised I did not take any photos on the last journey on this trail. I am grateful my friend lent me a few photos she took to complete the photo circle of this journey. I leave those taken in the past years here as well as a reminder of the disappearing landscapes that were once there.