The Return – A Two Day Flight Back: August 29 – August 29
And, no, that’s not a typo. Because of time zones and the international date line, I left on the 29th at 1 AM and I got back to the United States at 7 PM on the 29th. It also means I’ve technically only had this cold for a day and a half to two days (though it feels much longer… and it is… but it feels like I’ve been sick even longer than that… like FOREVER).
As the flights and layovers piled up, and the time in the air stretched as thin as the atmosphere we were cruising through, I downward spiraled. I’m pretty sick at the moment and super jetlagged. But I’m trying to get photos uploaded and finish up the index pages. I kinda have to as I’m off to a Mainly Marathons series in the Northwest in 36 hours. No rest for the wicked… the wicked slow marathoner, that is.
In any case, I thought I’d close out the Road to Bali series with a few photos from the voyage home.
Here’s my host at Clamonic House and a few of his family members (his nephew and if you can believe it that’s his Mom). Super nice guy and great folks all around…. But maybe the best part was the whole back story soap opera he filled me in on during the ride to the airport. It’s nice to know families are kinda universally screwed up, no matter your what hemisphere, latitude, or longitude.
The DSP airport before midnight.
The flight to Guangzhou was uneventful and I tried to doze before the sun came up.
Upon arriving at CAN airport, the transit visa process was equally convoluted and bureaucratic. A bit of excitement though as they were detaining a particularly abusive traveler in a room and he would occasionally bellow curse words at the Chinese officials who would shush him and say “no speaking!” I don’t know what the issue was but I’m 100% sure yelling at the visa officials was NOT going to get this guy the paperwork to enter the country.
Anyhoo, as I mentioned in the teaser to this day, I took advantage of the free transit hotel Southern China Airlines provided for the long layover. Would that I wasn’t such a buffoon on the way TO Bali and had availed myself of this service then.
A just under an hour subway ride later, I beheld the Canton Tower.
Fortunately, the Hop On/Hop Off Bus was right at the Canton Tower when I finished shooting my disappointingly faux-Gojira Kev attacking large tower photos. I hopped on and rode round and round on the bus.
Weirdly, the stops didn’t match the brochure the bus offered. Some were there but there were a few bypassed sights and then some random places along the route that weren’t highlighted on the guide. They were however well documented on the complimentary audio guide that I could plug into at my seat.
I was enjoying the experience right up until these two kids started smoking… and right underneath the No Smoking signs. I would’ve said something but I didn’t know how to say in Chinese, “Are you kidding me? The sign is RIGHT FREAKIN’ THERE! No Smoking!” Oh, who am I kidding? I wouldn’t have said that in America either. I would’ve done what I did in this case — moved and shaken my head dismissively and angrily but not saying a word for fear of confrontation.
There’s something about foreign cigarettes. US ones are horrible enough but the foreign brands are even stronger and heavier and more… smoky? I’m sure Don Draper would say it’s because the US cigarettes are toasted but then I think the point of that Mad Men episode was EVERYBODY’S tobacco is toasted before being rolled… it’s just Don Draper made it a thing before others could claim it.
I transferred to a few other routes (hopping off and hopping on to the next bus). All well and good and there were a few funny sights and sounds.
I’m a huge fan of signs and iconography. All a holdover from my Communication Studies degree and my lifelong fascination with language in general. It’s amazing we are able to understand each other even when we speak the same generally agreed words. If I got all rootin’, tootin’ highfalutin I’d go into semiotics or the study of signs. Each sign has two parts – the signifier and the signified. The former is the physical manifestation of the sign – the curves that make up letters, the octagon of a stop sign, etc. The signified is the meaning itself conveyed by the physical manifestation – the curves of letters joined together to form a word that means something according to a mutually agreed definition, the idea that when approaching a red octagon emblazoned with the letters S-T-O-P we should cease our forward momentum. One of these days I should do a post that collects a few of my favorite signs/icons I’ve come across in my running travels but in the meantime, here are a few just from Bali and the layover in Guangzhou:
I finally hopped off at the Temple of the Six Banyan Trees because, well, that’s just a great evocative name. Visiting it, I guess I could see the Banyan Trees and looking back I really should’ve snapped a photo or two with them. But as I most recently said in my Travels with Andi piece, I kinda felt like I’d seen enough temples. Yeah, it was pretty all right, and therefore pretty alright, but I was kinda done.
So I metro’d back to the hotel and grabbed some dumplings from a street vendor. When in China, right? I kept wandering back and picking up a few more – what can I say? There’s a reason I’m overweight and chunky. Hard to resist those dumplings.
I was able to grab a nap and shower in the transit hotel – a real bonus I have to say, given the long flight still ahead of me.
As for that 12.5 hour flight, man, they never get easier. But I made it home, eventually. Lots of issues at immigration and on Lyft Line to get back home but I made it. Air travel can be a marathon unto itself.
And so as the sun set on my Road to Bali adventure, I look back fondly on the trials and tribulations, the sleep deprived misadventures, the mostly highs and occasional lows of traveling and running.
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Funny… not “ha-ha” funny, but funny in “isn’t that strange?”… I don’t think I mention my time for the marathon. It was just under 3:45. I guess I should put that in here since the blog is called Run Kevin Run.
