![[monumentum]](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrZ35Jk04DOExa4SYKxFysEeLnDhRMoPecY-CUwBqjyvQX0NBLlYUljq47hmRNyt_z4DWYjMhXqC8AfRZNpgjDmoqlDuUrMT_SoJGXcGoYBZ151nCN9A2b8XBjQ126wRjU-T0K8XUzT1qR/w950-h400-no/IMGP3970%2528v02+-+cropped21%2529.jpg)
This shall be the journey in May 2013.
(Just a simplified pictorial representation)
Across Andaman sea to transit at Colombo. Then from Karachi to Lahore by rail.
On to scenic Karimabad (Hunza), Sost, Khunjerab Pass/Karakoram Highway, Kashgar, Urumqi (Xinjiang), along Inner Mongolia and so on.
Awesomeness by land. I'm actually excited.
Though this journey is highly dissuaded from on account of "safety reasons", gut feelings say that it's a potential once-in-a-lifetime journey. Not that instinctual judgments can usually be relied upon, research has proven the region to be (almost) free of security issues.
They say, take a flight, it saves time, and a safer option. Sometimes their obstinacy questions our decision. Would we regret it should we encounter mishaps? Have we been too naive about the world and its people? In essence, the world has deteriorated to the stage where even male [the feminist side of me is screaming] companionship does not guarantee absolute safety. However, encounters have so far proven to be antagonistic to these worries (I'm not denying that shit did happen to us), but nevertheless each time I hear discouragement, the conflict inside never fails to be aroused.
Yet, what is travel without the tons of little fragments that make up the experience, and the bitter-sweet bits that spice up relationship with your travel partner?
Ultimately, the goal is not to teleport from destination to destination, but to count the distance markers together semi-consciously on a dizzying bus ride along mountainous freeways, battle through horrid weathers in shabby ponchos and soaked shoes while knowing warmth is just beside you, and to collapse at the end of the day in whatever cosy little abode offered by ambassadors of humanity around the world.
I hope they'd understand, but I find it really hard to get this across. Because more often than not, discouragement only comes from those who hardly ever step out of their comfy little microcosms where decisions hardly mattered to their survival. They probably had to choose between Charmin Ultra Soft and Kleenex, between Esprit and Zara, between chicken fillet and fish fillet for their dinners, but that's about all.
Holding onto one-way tickets gives no option to turn back. And I look forward to a blast (I hope not literally) of surprises that the world can offer.
(Just a simplified pictorial representation)
Across Andaman sea to transit at Colombo. Then from Karachi to Lahore by rail.
On to scenic Karimabad (Hunza), Sost, Khunjerab Pass/Karakoram Highway, Kashgar, Urumqi (Xinjiang), along Inner Mongolia and so on.
Awesomeness by land. I'm actually excited.
They say, take a flight, it saves time, and a safer option. Sometimes their obstinacy questions our decision. Would we regret it should we encounter mishaps? Have we been too naive about the world and its people? In essence, the world has deteriorated to the stage where even male [the feminist side of me is screaming] companionship does not guarantee absolute safety. However, encounters have so far proven to be antagonistic to these worries (I'm not denying that shit did happen to us), but nevertheless each time I hear discouragement, the conflict inside never fails to be aroused.
Yet, what is travel without the tons of little fragments that make up the experience, and the bitter-sweet bits that spice up relationship with your travel partner?
Ultimately, the goal is not to teleport from destination to destination, but to count the distance markers together semi-consciously on a dizzying bus ride along mountainous freeways, battle through horrid weathers in shabby ponchos and soaked shoes while knowing warmth is just beside you, and to collapse at the end of the day in whatever cosy little abode offered by ambassadors of humanity around the world.
I hope they'd understand, but I find it really hard to get this across. Because more often than not, discouragement only comes from those who hardly ever step out of their comfy little microcosms where decisions hardly mattered to their survival. They probably had to choose between Charmin Ultra Soft and Kleenex, between Esprit and Zara, between chicken fillet and fish fillet for their dinners, but that's about all.
Holding onto one-way tickets gives no option to turn back. And I look forward to a blast (I hope not literally) of surprises that the world can offer.
