A One Way Flight and Other Stories

Last time I went traveling, proper traveling, with a backpack, a money belt and a mini first-aid kit, back when my journal was made of paper and the word blog was an embryonic concept, I spent a few months in China. It was my first real backpacking experience and whilst I wouldn’t like to describe myself as naive, there were times when I didn’t always make the wisest decisions. Like the time that, instead of taking an 8 hour train ride from point A to point B, I decided to take four ten-hour-a day bus rides, crammed to the brim with locals, up twisting mountain tracks, mostly unpaved, driven by extremely inattentive Chinese men with very little regard for the road.

Why did I do that? Because I heard that you could and I figured that if someone else could do it then so could I.

And whilst I suppose…

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