The Finish Line
I started making my way through the crowds toward the main gate but didn’t get very far when I was cornered by two serious policemen who did not seemed very impressed to have a hairy wild looking fella pulling a suspicious looking cart behind him (with big black box and foreign flag tied to it) towards their national treasure. I chanced my arm and told them where I wanted to go to which they replied a flat no. Fair enough I thought, and I was not foolish enough to cause a scene where armed soldiers with machine guns were stationed not far away. I asked the best way to get to my hostel, which required me taking my last and annoyingly long detour south of Mao Ze Dongs Mausoleum.
In a quite little lane among the old alleys of Beijing, I pulled up outside my quaint little hostel and slipped out of the harness for the last time. A couple of backpackers who were at the hostel stopped to ask where I had come from to which I gave them a quick summary of how I spent my last 2 months. When they left, apparently stunned at my antics, I turned and hung my head into the harness and I smiled to myself. At that moment I realised that no matter how many times I tell the story, write it down, share pictures or try to explain it, I would never be able to fully portray the magic that I felt within from the last 2 months on the road, but that's OK. The joy of seeing such beautiful lands and the humbling honour of meeting some of the kindest, generous and friendliest people in the world has been the best reward I could have ever wanted. In a way, I set out to learn more about myself, but it was by way of meeting those amazing characters on my adventure that I really got to know who I am and who I want to be.
And to those who ask me what it was like? I will tell them, go find a comfortable pair of shoes, put one foot in front of the other and you can find out for yourself!