Awesome Beauty

It looked like a piece of cardboard, bobbing up and down in the water far below. I was standing high above it, maybe 20 metres away, on top of an enormous rock. Yangtze river rapids exploded all around me. This is Tiger Leaping Gorge, one of the most stunning places I have ever been.

Joining the ranks of numerous others, I hiked the cliff-top path of the gorge for a couple of days, taking good care of my footing. I watched the Yangze from a giddying distance as it flowed with great dignity along the bottom of the gorge. Small hillside villages of the Naxi people provided food and accommodation on the way. Abundant waterfalls crossed my path. The weather was very hot. To cool down, I meditated on the snowy peaks towering above me at high altitude. It seemed to help.

Penelope was with me of course and was awe struck, as I was, by the immense beauty of it all. We took hundreds of photos of each other and of the gorge. I won’t pretend that I wasn’t concerned; her legs are more wobbly today than when we first met and I didn’t like the fact that to get a good photo, she kept taking a step back on the narrow goat path we were following. Just a small step in the wrong direction would have been fatal. It was a long fall. Unlike Australia, I doubt that China has an advanced search and rescue team for travellers. And if they do, all resources would certainly be tied up with earthquake rescue missions currently taking place in the Sichuan province. Penelope accepted my concerns and treaded lightly.

As I surveyed the gorge, the slippery waterfalls we needed to walk through along the narrow clifftop path and the rough stones that lended themselves to a sprained ankle, I kept thinking of whether I had chosen the right travel insurance company.

Having completed the hike, we rested overnight at a guesthouse halfway down the mountain before descending next morning to the water flowing beneath. It was a hard climb down. Local villagers have installed ropes and cords to help visitors with their balance, as well as a few wooden bridges and disconcerting ladders.

We made it to the bottom. A local village woman stood watch as I climbed onto Tiger Leaping Rock, the legendary rock that a tiger once used as a stepping stone when leaping across the gorge. The rock was steep, and losing one’s balance could have frightening consequences. I was surrounded by the thundering river (see photo) and was pleased that the village woman was there to make sure things were ok. P and I took our photos. It was spellbinding.

Another French tourist asked me about the body that the village woman had showed him. “Body?” I shouted back above the screaming water. “Down there” he pointed. I again looked down, this time laying down on my stomach so as to anchor my body to prevent myself from falling. P couldn’t hear our conversation and I thought it better that way. Peering over the rock edge I saw it, bobbing up and down. A man’s body, naked, caught in a rock crevice with other flotsam and jetsam. I hadn’t noticed it before because it had looked like a piece of cardboard. I quickly turned away and called to the village woman. From what I could understand from her explanation, the body had washed downstream two days earlier. I did not understand why it was naked. “Who will take it away?” No-one she said. What about family? We don’t know if he has any, she replied. The people with me took photos and we were all shocked that the woman had proudly pointed out her find without taking any steps to deal with it.

I thought about how safe I had felt seeing this woman supervise us tourists. Now I realised that if something happened to me, it would have passed unnoticed.

After the arduous climb back up to the main path, those with me contacted a local hostel and showed them the photos. We were assured the police would be notified.

The entire incident raised so many issues for me. Attitudes to death. Approaches to safety. The role of the authorities. Adventure. Adventure travel. Who was that poor fellow, lying there in the water for days on end? A local? A hiker? Where were his clothes? What is my responsibility towards him? What would I have expected from him had the tables been turned?

I vowed to consider the import of these issues as we left the gorge and made our way north to a new town, new sights and new issues.