I got a taxi eventually up to the mountain top where Buddha sits. The taxi driver was particularly fond of overtaking at blind corners, usually when a lorry was coming the other way and there was a sheer drop. I suppose it's quite a dull job, so he has to keep it interesting. Or perhaps he was Buddhist, believes in reincarnation, and quite fancies coming back as a sheep.
The weather was beautiful - a warm 23 degrees or so, and sunny - like those first tentative few days at the end of April or start of May. Not enough to sunburn you, but enough to make you sit with the warmth on your back and smile. Apologies for gloating to all those of you in the UK (and possibly the US) as I hear you're going through something of a cold snap at the moment. Anyway, as an atheist (with a particular dislike for Buddhism, which is perhaps a separate story), Buddha himself installed no feelings of inner peace for me, and neither did his tacky gift shop. But the mountain scenery and the beauty of the day (admittedly marred by pollution smog from China) lifted spirits immensely.
I took the bus back to the tube station - again some near-death experiences, mostly caused by a large furry caterpillar that had found its way onto the bus and was terrorising the Spanish girl next to me to the extent she fell off her seat twice. I swear this caterpillar actually had teeth. It might have been auditioning for a horror film. I'm not sure. Though it looked a lot less scary about ten minutes later when it got a bit of pink fluff stuck in its menacing black fur. Big gay caterpillar.
Finally, to make you laugh or smile, a couple of photos of amusing things I've seen over the last few days.
Just once I'd like to go abroad without "whore fun", or however you spell it. Porridge is optional.
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