The collected writings of a Renegade Tourist

Tag Darkness

Loushan Forest Road, 10:14pm

I'm walking in nearly complete darkness, only able to navigate thanks to my head lamp. As I come around a bend in the road, there's a gap in line of trees along the right hand side, their black silhouettes dropping away to reveal the view. This is what I had been hoping to find when I ventured out of camp, so stop and turn off the light. In front of me lies the valley, almost not recognizable compared with its daytime self. The night sky, almost but not completely black, is studded with stars. The dark outline of a low hill in the middle distance; spots of light scattered sparsely across it, each little cluster signifying a farmhouse. Behind it, the orange glow of a town. At this distance you can't make out any shapes - it's barely visible in the daylight- but the light radiating skywards marks its location like a beacon. There are thousands of pinpricks of brightness within that diffuse radiance; each one denoting a single streetlight, a single lighted window, or the headlights of car. I don't know if it's an illusion, but from where I'm standing, they seem to be twinkling like distant fireflies. It's funny when you come to think of it, you come out here to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city, but once you're up here, looking down at the city lights from the stillness of the mountain, it's actually quite beautiful. 

Loushan Forest Road, 9:36 pm

I'm sitting here in our little campsite just taking in my surroundings.  The evening chill is just starting to set in, not too hot and not yet cold. Next to me, my wife is reading under the light. A few meters away, our son is snoring in the tent. If I face away from illuminated circle of the campsite - in any direction - I see nothing but black; it's like a solid wall of darkness just beyond the edge of the light. All around me are the sounds of the night; the whistling of a bird; the faint chirping of insects; the woosh and gurgle of the nearby waterfall; the croaking of a lone frog in the distance. Above me are myriad stars, spread out across a sky that's a single shade lighter than the surrounding forest. In quite a small way, this is perfect.

Bar Resurf, 10:22 pm

This place is all atmosphere. It's dark, only a single dim spotlight over each table and a few warm yellow lights behind the bar, nothing more, the tables like islands of light in a sea of darkness. Soft jazz in the background, so low you almost don't notice it but loud enough to fill the silence and bridge the gaps in your conversation. Limited customers, only two people at each table and a few pairs spread evenly along the length of the bar, the gaps between them enveloped in shadow. No beer, no wine, no shots, only cocktails, mixed with precision from quality ingredients, served in stylish glasses, well balanced subtle flavors. Low conversations float through the room, it almost feels rude to laugh or talk too loud, and looking at your phone must be sacrilege. Three bartenders, dressed in black shirts and suspenders, calmly working their craft, serving the drinks in a laid back but friendly manner. This is the coolest bar I've ever been to, it could be some kind of hipster place but it doesn't feel pretentious, the coolness is genuine.

Treehouse, 02:28 am.

I’ve woken up and can’t go back to sleep, so I stand at the railing looking out into the night. Despite not having any lights I can see shapes in the darkness, the silhouettes of the trees, jet black against the charcoal grey of the night sky. Beyond that, stars, more of them than I have ever seen before, twinkling all over the sky. I take in the scene for a few moments before the night chill forces me back under the covers.… Read the rest

Treehouse, 10:01 pm 

I’m lying in my bed listening to music before going to sleep. I can feel the chill of the night air on my bare skin and hear, over the sounds of the music, the whoosh of the waterfall in the background and the occasional frup frup of a moth hitting the protective cocoon of the mosquito net surrounding my bed. It is pitch black like it only gets in really remote areas, far from any kind of civilization, the only light is the tiny amount spilling out around the edges of my phone where it lies face down on the … Read the rest

Pak Ou caves, 3:42 pm

The cave is long and dark, a single candle at the far end and the light spilling in at the entrance are the only sources of light. I shine my flashlight over the walls, there in the corner is a raised platform in a kind of alcove. On it a number of Buddha figurines in faded gold against the bare rock walls. The only sound is the wirr click of my camera and the soft humming of the ticket lady at the entrance. I put down the camera, turn off the flashlight and just listen for some moments in the … Read the rest

Vinh Moc tunnels,  entrance 9, 11:44 am

I’m only a few meters from the entrance where a little bit of daylight spills in, and already it’s completely dark when I turn off my flashlight, I literally cannot see my hand in front of my face. I am truly in the underground, where human eyes cannot penetrate the darkness no matter how used they get to it. I don’t dare to go further in because there are no lights to guide the way and getting lost down in some old tunnels from the Vietnamese war is not a particularly appealing prospect. Instead I just stand here for a … Read the rest

Road in Hualien ca 6:20pm

The night is dark, the road is straight and I keep my hand firmly locked at the 50 kilometers an hour mark. The wind is ripping at my rain cloak and the rain drops pelt my body like little stones. The helmet’s visor is covered in droplets that cloud my view, I have to concentrate on the white lines to see where I’m going. Lifting the visor to see better is not an option as the drops hitting my face will sting my eyes and my soft exposed skin. The rain is so heavy I can even feel it drumming … Read the rest

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