按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
〃What’s there？ Scenery？ Temples？ Historic sites？〃 you ask； trying to be casual。
〃It’s all virgin wilderness。〃
〃Ancient forests？〃
〃Of course； but not just ancient forests。〃
〃What about Wild Men？〃 you say； joking。
He laughs but without any sarcasm； and he doesn’t seem to be making fun of himself which intrigues you even more。 You have to find out more about him。
〃Are you an ecologist？ A biologist？ An anthropologist？ An archaeologist？〃
He shakes his head each time then says； 〃I’m more interested in living people。〃
〃So you’re doing research on folk customs？ You’re a sociologist？ An ethnographer？ An ethnologist？ A journalist； perhaps？ An adventurer？〃
〃I’m an amateur in all of these。〃
The two of you start laughing。
〃I’m an expert amateur in all of these！〃
The laughing makes you and him cheerful。 He lights a cigarette and can’t stop as he tells you about the wonders of Lingshan。 Afterwards； at your request； he tears up his empty cigarette box and draws a map of the route up Lingshan。
In the North； it is already late autumn。 Here； however； the summer heat hasn’t completely subsided。 Before sunset； it is still quite hot in the sun and sweat starts running down your back。 You leave the station to look around。 There’s nothing nearby except for the little inn across the road。 It’s an old style building with a wooden shopfront and an upstairs。 Upstairs the floorboards creak badly but worse still is the grime on the pillow and sleeping mat。 To wash； you’d have to wait till it was dark to strip off and pour water over yourself in the damp narrow courtyard。 This is a stopover for the village peddlers and craftsmen。
It’s well before dark； so there’s plenty of time to find somewhere clean。 You walk down the road with your backpack to look over the little town； hoping to find some indication； a billboard or a poster； or just the name 〃Lingshan〃 to tell you you’re on the right track and haven’t been tricked into making this long excursion。 You look everywhere but don’t find anything。 There were no tourists like you amongst the other passengers who got off the bus。 Of course you’re not that sort of tourist； it’s just what you’re wearing： strong sensible sports shoes and a backpack with shoulder straps； no…one else is dressed like you。 Of course； this isn’t one of the tourist spots frequented by newlyweds and retirees。 Those places have been transformed by tourism； coaches are parked everywhere and tourist maps are on sale。 Tourist hats； tourist T…shirts； tourist singlets and tourist handkerchiefs bearing the name of the place are in all the little shops and stalls； and the name of the place is used in the trade names of all the 〃foreign exchange currency only〃 hotels for foreigners； the 〃locals with references only〃 hostels and sanatoriums； and of course the small private hotels competing for customers。 You haven’t come to enjoy yourself in one of those places on the sunny side of a mountain where people congregate just to look at and jostle one another； and to add to the litter of melon rind； fruit peel； soft drink bottles； cans； cartons； sandwich wrappings and cigarette butts。 Sooner or later this place will also boom but you’re here before they put up the gaudy pavilions and terraces； before the reporters come with their cameras； and before the celebrities come to put up plaques with their calligraphy。 You can’t help feeling rather pleased with yourself yet you’re anxious。 There’s no sign of anything here for tourists； have you made a blunder？ You’re only going by the map on the cigarette box in your shirt pocket； what if the expert amateur you met on the train had only heard about the place on his travels？ How do you know he wasn’t just making it all up？ You haven’t ever seen the place mentioned in travel acomounts and it’s not listed in the most up to date travel manuals。 Of course； it isn’t hard to find places like Lingtai； Lingqiu； Lingyan and even Lingshan on provincial maps and you know very well that in the histories and classics； Lingshan appears in works dating back to the ancient shamanistic work Classic of the Mountains and Seas； and the old geographical gazetteer Annotated Water Classic。 It was also at Lingshan that Buddha enlightened the Venerable Mahakashyapa。 You’re not stupid； so just use your brains； first find this place Wuyizhen on the cigarette box； for this is how you’ll get to Lingshan。
You return to the bus station and go into the waiting room。 The busiest place in this small town is now deserted。 The ticket window and the parcel window are boarded up from the inside so knocking is useless。 There’s nowhere to ask so you can only go through the lists of stops above the ticket window： Zhang Village； Sandy Flat； Cement Factory； Old Hut； Golden Horse； Good Harvest； Flood Waters； Dragon Bay； Peach Blossom Hollow … the names keep getting better； but the place you want isn’t there。 This is just a small town but there are several routes and quite a few buses go through。 The busiest route； with five or six buses a day； is to Cement Factory but that’s definitely not a tourist route。 The route with the fewest buses； one a day； is sure to go to the furthest destination： it turns out that Wuyizhen is the last stop。 There’s nothing special about the name； it’s just like any other place name and there’s nothing magical about it。 Still； you seem to have found one end of a hopeless tangle； you may not be ecstatic but you’re certainly relieved。 You’ll need to buy a ticket in the morning an hour before departure and you know from experience that with mountain buses like this； which run once a day； just to get on will be a fight。 Unless you’re prepared to do battle； you’ll just have to get into the queue early。
But； right now； you’ve got lots of time； although your backpack’s a nuisance。 As you amble along the road timber trucks go by noisily sounding their horns。 In the town the noise is worse still as trucks； some with trailers； blast on their horns and conductors hang out of windows loudly banging the sides of the buses to get pedestrians off the road。
The old buildings on both sides stand flush with the road and all have wooden shopfronts。 The downstairs is for business and upstairs； washing hung out to dry—nappies； bras； underpants with patched crotches； floral…print bedspreads—like flags of all the nations； flap in the noise and dust of the traffic。 The concrete telegraph poles along the street are pasted at eye level with all sorts of posters。 One for curing body odour catches your attention。 This is not because you’ve got body odour but because of the fancy language and the words in brackets after 〃body odour〃。
Body odour （known also as scent of the immortals） is a disgusting condition with an awful； nauseating smell。 It often affects social relationships and can delay life’s major event： marriage。 It disadvantages young men and women at job interviews or when they try to enlist； therefore inflicting much suffering and anguish。 By using a new total treatment； we can instantly eradicate the odour with a rate of up to 97。53％ sucomess。 For joy in life and future happiness； we welcome you to come and rid yourself of it …
After that you come to a stone bridge： no body odour here and there’s a cool； refreshing breeze。 The bridge spanning the broad river has a bitumen surface but the carved monkeys on the worn stone posts testify to its long history。 You lean on the concrete railing and survey the township alongside the bridge。 On both banks； black roof…tops overlapping like fish…scales stretch endlessly into the distance。 The valley opens out between two mountains where the upper areas of gold paddy fields are inlaid with clusters of green bamboos。 The river is blue and clear as it leisurely trickles over the sandy shores but close to the granite pylons dividing the current it becomes inky green and deep。 Just past the hump of the bridge the rushing water churns loudly and white foam surfaces from whirlpools。 The ten…metre high stone embankment is stained with water levels： the new greyish…yellow lines were probably left by the recent summer floods。 Can this be the You River？ And