Camping at Golden Ears Provincial Park
It has been a long time since I went camping. Since I did not have much to do ( actually I do have some pretty important things to do ) after the robotic course ended, I joined Auntie Linda and her family for a camping trip in Golden Ears, which is about 3 hours away from the campus. Auntie Linda has been there a day before of us, so everything was set up by the time we got there.
We did most of the usual stuff when people camp, i.e. talking and dozing off around the bonfire, playing cards, going to the beach, and eating. The food was really good, my friend even kidded that it was better than what we had at home, since Auntie brought a lot of ingredients with her, and a gas stove, etc. We had sate, chicken rice, cucur ikan bilis, eggs ( most important food ), chicken pasta with alfredo sauce, this and that. I must have gained at least 5 kg during that 4 days of camping. As for cards, we mostly played at night and we played Gin Rummy. Since I have abstained from any sort of card games during my stint of academic pursuit, I have to relearn the game. I am proud to say I did fairly well by the final night in the camp, having beaten everyone (even though I still suck at poker - and I blame my luck).
The beach? The scenery was pretty pretty (haha), and the body of water (dunno whether it's a creek or sea - never been down there) was surrounded by mountains. All was peaceful and serene, and for once, even though it was for a few minutes, I felt inner peace. And we went to another spot where there was this mini cliff where the kids and my friends jumped off and swam. The road there consists of rather steep slopes, and I have never overcome my fear of getting dragged down by gravity, taking small, cowardly steps forward while my companions jumped and hopped lightly and youthfully and nimbly, seeming oblivious to the fact that it was not flat ground. Fear grasped me, as there were no absolutely safe spots, and then all of them were jumping into the water, swimming, laughing, and playing with each other, enjoying the caress of the crystal like water, while I with a hunched back, tried to hid my face from the sun, as though hiding from shame and humiliation, read a book, the book was about a man's futile struggle against a permanent totalitarian government, and I struggled against my fear, and it was all the same, nothing was changed, I was dead, and they were in the water, laughing, and Auntie's son asked me to jump. Me? Jump? I can't swim. I have long lost the courage to take risks, it was being consumed, by what? I know not. But I stayed, the struggling getting feeble, and before I knew it, I was struggling against the struggle itself, and I won. But even though I won , I was defeated. And after some pages, we left the place for the comfort of the campsite.
Days went by. Food was good, and except for the first night in the camp, I did not get good sleep. The tent we stayed in had a broken zip, and with a broken zip it is almost the same as not sleeping under a tent at all, since thermal equilibrium was easily established. I underestimated the cold, and without a blanket, I woke up long before everyone did. I had nothing to do, so I jogged. For how long, I knew not, but I was trying to burn all the food that went emotionless into my stomach. I felt good. But in the end it was in vain, for the harder I ran, the more I ate afterwards. The temptation was irresistible. I told myself, I'd run again tomorrow, but that night it rained. All the towels were wet, my running shoes were wet, and rain leaked in through the broken zip, and I woke up with a wet sweater, and a full bladder. After numerous failed attempts to go back to sleep, I gave in and went out to take a leak. I could not go back to sleep so I tried to zip up the tent properly. Like many things I did in life, it was in vain. There was a limit that no one, regardless of sincerity and hardwork, could ever achieved. Then there was the aroma of food, and I deserted my post and swallowed food, not because of need but because of the unncessary desire.
But on the day before, we went canoeing. It was going well, and we went pretty far from the shore. I was with Auntie's son, I felt pretty safe because he seemed to know what he was doing. And then my friend's canoe capsized, she was covered by her tudung, she yelled for help, and I was not moving, I was just looking. But no, Auntie's son dove into the water, hats and sunglasses still on, going for her rescue. And I watched while he rescued her. Under Auntie's husband's command, I paddle the boat towards where everyone was and offered what meager help I could give, but watching nonetheless. I was supposed to feel afraid and worried. I supposed I felt afraid and worried. I was quiet and watchful. And she climbed up to our boat, and the boat was slanted to the other side, I was worried that my boat, now just me in the boat, might capsize too. But uncle did well in tying our boats together, making our boats really stable. And I paddled, and steered; she was cold and afraid, I was worried that she was sitting too much to the right, causing imbalance to the boat. We arrived at the shore finally, the boat rocking side to side. All the while I was wondering why I was so void of reaction, and so void of expression, and deep down, am I also void of emotion?
On the day when we were supposed to go home, one of the car died on us. I left everyone while they tried in vain to revive the car, clueless as to what was wrong. I wondered why we didn't get help. I went to sit by Auntie side, as she drove a few of us back home first. I sensed that something was wrong, but I did not know anything, I just wanted to sleep. We got back home, and two hours later, Auntie drove the rest of the people home from the camp site. I knew the car was dead. Time has past, and we are home now. Time has past, but have I matured, or have I just aged? Or have I grown bitter and increasingly impotent, insensitive? I do not know. Shall I sleep, or shall I do some work? I think I have work to do. We'll see.
Farewell.
We did most of the usual stuff when people camp, i.e. talking and dozing off around the bonfire, playing cards, going to the beach, and eating. The food was really good, my friend even kidded that it was better than what we had at home, since Auntie brought a lot of ingredients with her, and a gas stove, etc. We had sate, chicken rice, cucur ikan bilis, eggs ( most important food ), chicken pasta with alfredo sauce, this and that. I must have gained at least 5 kg during that 4 days of camping. As for cards, we mostly played at night and we played Gin Rummy. Since I have abstained from any sort of card games during my stint of academic pursuit, I have to relearn the game. I am proud to say I did fairly well by the final night in the camp, having beaten everyone (even though I still suck at poker - and I blame my luck).
The beach? The scenery was pretty pretty (haha), and the body of water (dunno whether it's a creek or sea - never been down there) was surrounded by mountains. All was peaceful and serene, and for once, even though it was for a few minutes, I felt inner peace. And we went to another spot where there was this mini cliff where the kids and my friends jumped off and swam. The road there consists of rather steep slopes, and I have never overcome my fear of getting dragged down by gravity, taking small, cowardly steps forward while my companions jumped and hopped lightly and youthfully and nimbly, seeming oblivious to the fact that it was not flat ground. Fear grasped me, as there were no absolutely safe spots, and then all of them were jumping into the water, swimming, laughing, and playing with each other, enjoying the caress of the crystal like water, while I with a hunched back, tried to hid my face from the sun, as though hiding from shame and humiliation, read a book, the book was about a man's futile struggle against a permanent totalitarian government, and I struggled against my fear, and it was all the same, nothing was changed, I was dead, and they were in the water, laughing, and Auntie's son asked me to jump. Me? Jump? I can't swim. I have long lost the courage to take risks, it was being consumed, by what? I know not. But I stayed, the struggling getting feeble, and before I knew it, I was struggling against the struggle itself, and I won. But even though I won , I was defeated. And after some pages, we left the place for the comfort of the campsite.
Days went by. Food was good, and except for the first night in the camp, I did not get good sleep. The tent we stayed in had a broken zip, and with a broken zip it is almost the same as not sleeping under a tent at all, since thermal equilibrium was easily established. I underestimated the cold, and without a blanket, I woke up long before everyone did. I had nothing to do, so I jogged. For how long, I knew not, but I was trying to burn all the food that went emotionless into my stomach. I felt good. But in the end it was in vain, for the harder I ran, the more I ate afterwards. The temptation was irresistible. I told myself, I'd run again tomorrow, but that night it rained. All the towels were wet, my running shoes were wet, and rain leaked in through the broken zip, and I woke up with a wet sweater, and a full bladder. After numerous failed attempts to go back to sleep, I gave in and went out to take a leak. I could not go back to sleep so I tried to zip up the tent properly. Like many things I did in life, it was in vain. There was a limit that no one, regardless of sincerity and hardwork, could ever achieved. Then there was the aroma of food, and I deserted my post and swallowed food, not because of need but because of the unncessary desire.
But on the day before, we went canoeing. It was going well, and we went pretty far from the shore. I was with Auntie's son, I felt pretty safe because he seemed to know what he was doing. And then my friend's canoe capsized, she was covered by her tudung, she yelled for help, and I was not moving, I was just looking. But no, Auntie's son dove into the water, hats and sunglasses still on, going for her rescue. And I watched while he rescued her. Under Auntie's husband's command, I paddle the boat towards where everyone was and offered what meager help I could give, but watching nonetheless. I was supposed to feel afraid and worried. I supposed I felt afraid and worried. I was quiet and watchful. And she climbed up to our boat, and the boat was slanted to the other side, I was worried that my boat, now just me in the boat, might capsize too. But uncle did well in tying our boats together, making our boats really stable. And I paddled, and steered; she was cold and afraid, I was worried that she was sitting too much to the right, causing imbalance to the boat. We arrived at the shore finally, the boat rocking side to side. All the while I was wondering why I was so void of reaction, and so void of expression, and deep down, am I also void of emotion?
On the day when we were supposed to go home, one of the car died on us. I left everyone while they tried in vain to revive the car, clueless as to what was wrong. I wondered why we didn't get help. I went to sit by Auntie side, as she drove a few of us back home first. I sensed that something was wrong, but I did not know anything, I just wanted to sleep. We got back home, and two hours later, Auntie drove the rest of the people home from the camp site. I knew the car was dead. Time has past, and we are home now. Time has past, but have I matured, or have I just aged? Or have I grown bitter and increasingly impotent, insensitive? I do not know. Shall I sleep, or shall I do some work? I think I have work to do. We'll see.
Farewell.