I bislike the iron road

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Jishan is actually more than 30km from Xinjiang, but someone had told me that the railroad was a more direct way to get there.

So I walked the iron road:

railroad track

You know what sucks about this: the distance between the horizontal boards is just too small, so you have to make tiny little steps if you want to walk on them:


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Not very manly, and not very effective for speed either.

About every 30 minutes, I would have to step aside and wait for a while:


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Apart from that, there was really not much happening on the tracks:

snow and trees

Just whiteness everywhere, with hardly any people around:

dog in the snow

Sometimes I would cross tiny villages, but I would be high above them, walking on the tracks:

village road

Also, one thing I hadn’t thought of before: food. There was absolutely no way to find anything to feed on during the entire day. I had two muffins and a can of walnut milk from the depths of my backpack here:

rest in the snow

The rest of the way meant sinister starving.

Once I ran into a dude who was also walking on the tracks, trying to get to his friend’s wedding:

train passing by

He cheered me up a bit and told me that I had almost made it.

Then I found this:

I bislike you

“I bislike you”

And not just one – six or seven of these, all beautifully written in the snow:

I bislike you again

Someone must have really bisliked someone else here.

Anyways, at some point I got fed up with all the cozy warmth rushing by every 30 minutes:

Nanchong - Beijing West

I would comfort myself: “Those captives sitting on their flat asses should envy me – I am roaming about freely, I am experiencing the outdoors, they don’t know what it’s like!”

But I guess they didn’t even notice me.

Well, at some point, after what seemed like a million tiny steps later, I had made it to Jishan train station:

train passing at night

It was only then, when I stepped on the boarding platform and walked through the train station, and I could feel the eyes of all the other people who were there waiting in the waiting hall, that I actually felt that some part of the lie I had been telling myself for comfort was maybe becoming real.

At least for me.

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