#BigBuddha

I arrived on the island of Lantau to go see the big fella in the sky. Not your usual Christian god, oh no! This guy in the sky is an enormous Buddha! (Not sure if that entire paragraph was really culturally insensitive to both Christians and Buddhists but we’ll just plough on!)

The island was gorgeous! Far away from the hustle and bustle of the city and high up in the mountains. I was the first to arrive at the gates. If it had been a competition to see who could get to Buddha first, I would have gold! I looked back smugly at the late comers who looked back at me with green, envious eyes.

The gates opened and I was up. 15 million stairs stood before me. I took a quick selfie before anyone could obstruct my picture and then began to climb. And climb...and climb some more! At the top, the view over the mountains was stunning. The cloudless sky allowed for maximum distance viewing and I could see across the rolling hills and water.

I asked a man to take a photo for me with big Buddha, we’ll call him B.B.
“Thanks!” I said. I

thanked him too soon; the photo was terrible! He hadjust taken one of me in my tragic outfit that I usually wear for running! (I had to wear leggings while the chub rub heeled!) “Um..could you maybe take another one with B.B. in it?”
Another photo...cut off B.B’s head but got in my sexy trainers! One last time! Huzzah! Finally! He got a decent shot with both myself and B.B. visible!
He asked me to take one of him and I considered taking one of the floor to be spiteful but I knew B.B. wouldn’t approve!

Next stop was the monastery. Most of it was private but the grounds were so peaceful! Two big coy ponds lay beneath the impressive Chinese temples, the walls were covered in red and gold traditional paintings and artefacts. On the way back I could hear the scraping of wheels on the floor beside me. A guy was dragging his suitcase along the path.
“Did you have to drag that up all those stairs?”
“Yup!” He answered with an Italian accent.
We both did the usual traveller questions. Where you from? How long you travelling for? Yarda yarda yarda! When I told him I was born in Italy he asked where.
“Oh it’s a really small town, no one’s ever heard of it...Vimecate.”
“Oh! Near Milano! I’m from Milano so I know it!” (I love the way he says Milano...did I say it out loud...?) we went to the village together and had a drink. He showed me his artwork that I should have photographed in case he becomes famous. The accent was really throwing me! I forgot how to be human and spoke gibberish. He asked me geography questions like, was it north or south Italy you went to? Sounds like an easy thing to know the answer to but I didn’t have internet to look on maps so I guessed, um, south? ..I was wrong. When I told him it was near lake Garda he was quick to correct me.

“Well this has been lovely but I must get on.” I needed to get away so I could be a normal human again and not a geographical moron! I navigated my way to the cable cars and caught one back down the mountain.

I got on and became an awkward unwanted 3rd wheel to a couple clearly on a romantic getaway. We headed down the mountains over lush grasslands, waterfalls and plants. It wasn’t long before the view of the city came into sight.