Every now and then I lug my giant SLR around for no good reason. It gets x-rayed, poked and prodded by airport security but stays comfortably tucked away in my luggage upon arrival. It’s a (rare) sign that I’m on vacation, and not traveling. The difference between a getaway and an adventure.

The last three years has been an adventure of a different sort, and with graduation only a week away it’s time for some much needed R&R. I was lucky enough to steal away to the Bahamas for a few days, where the only photographing I did was with my mind’s eye… and my iPhone . I feel refreshed, and maybe even ready to tackle the bar exam. Maybe.

It’s hard to believe that Spring Break was just a week ago. Back in Cambridge it’s nose to the grindstone with classes, readings and long days in the library. Right now sunshine feels like a distant memory. I went on my first cruise to the Caribbean over the break, and for someone whose travel repertoire has mostly consisted of backpacking and sleeping in yurts – it was quite the culture shock. I’ve never been so pampered and fussed over in my life. I can now fully relate to David Foster Wallace’s experience in Shipping Out.

Cruising is part luxury travel and part magic. You can never quite shake the feeling that you are the target of an elaborate scheme everyone else is in on but yourself. You wake in the crystalline waters of Aruba, and when the sun sets it lights up the sky, and turns the sea into molten gold. Aboard the ship, things function seamlessly as if controlled by a hive mind. It seemed like every time I opened our cabin door (no matter what time in the day) our room had magically rearranged itself and there was yet another chocolate placed on my pillow. Or four. And try as I might, I could never actually catch our cabin steward in the act. And the food. My God. The. Food. Unending lobster? An entire meal dedicated to chocolate?? The mind. It boggles.

Of all of us on the trip, Jonny undoubtedly made the most of what the cruise had to offer. He became our gastronomic icon, nay, our hero. It is with the fondest of memories that I think back on Spring Break 2013 – and proudly present my first comic, shot and edited entirely on my iPhone. Without further ado, I give you The Many Meals of Jonny Lim.

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A quick entry tonight. I am thoroughly exhausted and half asleep :)

The Chans are reunited! My wonderful brother met up with Melissa and I in Xi’an on Sunday night, along with two of our friends from Hong Kong. Our dynamic duo is now a rabble of travelers. We are at a funky hostel in Xi’an called the Han Tang Inn. And naturally, terracotta warriors greet us at every corner.

Something all hostels should have: kittens. While settling in and waiting for the guys to arrive, three tiny kittens wandered into our dorm. I am immediately obsessed. My first night is somewhat sleepless, due to the constant purring from a tiny white kitten who has decided to curl up next to me in bed. It’s like sleeping next to a tiny furry engine.

Xi’an is one of the ancient capitals of China. Most famous now for the terracotta warriors uncovered in the 70′s. It is also the one place I promised I wouldn’t go without my brother, who is a big history buff. Oh man.. it did not disappoint. My jaw hit the floor as we walked inside a live archaeological dig the size of an aircraft hanger, with hundreds of soldiers standing in battle-ready formation. Perhaps the only thing I enjoyed more than the actual warriors was my brother’s constant stream of commentary and obvious excitement :)

This morning we headed towards Hua Shan, one of Taoism’s holiest mountains. Having been in the Himalayas and the famed Yangshuo carsts, I wondered how much I would be impressed by Hua Shan. In truth, the Lonely Planet doesn’t do it justice. The five peaks are all around 2000m each, and the hike up is more often climbing up a vertical stone ladder while gripping a metal chain. It was a grueling afternoon, and it didn’t help that our 2 hour ride back to the city was spent on flimsy plastic stools in between the aisle of the bus. Oof. Think of it as the post-hike anti-stretch.

Tomorrow evening we head back to Beijing. It’s hard to believe that my trip is more or less over. It feels like yesterday I was just touching down in Lhasa with my entire summer stretching before me. We’ll still be touring around Beijing, but I’m simultaneously wrapping up my apartment and this time next week… I’ll be back in Hong Kong preparing for the next chapter. Eep.

Naturally this means I have a ton of images to work through.. a photographer’s trip is never over :) Ok. I am totally beat. Time for sleep.. zzzzz..

They say that gourmet cuisine is in China, but the flavor is in Sichuan. This western province boasts pandas, the most beautiful Chinese girls (literally referred to as “la mei zi” or spicy girls) as well as some of the most jaw dropping scenery. In the northern part of the province, every other turn of the winding road is like a picture from a fairytale. Iridescent lakes and virgin forests abound in Jiuzhaigou, China’s famed national park and a Unesco World Heritage site.

It’s been about a week since I met up with Melissa. We spent our time in Sichuan visiting (and holding) pandas, stuffing ourselves silly with local Sichuan cuisine, and touring around the local sites like Le Shan Buddha, carved out of the side of a mountain and the largest seated Buddha in the world.

Jiuzhaigou deserves an entry on it’s own. It’s a harrowing twelve hour bus ride from Chengdu, winding through mountains and bumpy roads, with unexpected traffic jams thanks to avalanches and reconstruction after the Sichuan earthquake. Our driver probably deserves a medal for either getting us there in record time or making a third of his passengers throw up. But once you are in the mountains, it is worth every bump and jostle along the way. Despite being Canadian (and darn proud of our national parks) I have never seen anything so beautiful and pristine. Hard to imagine that it is all part of the same country that is so heavily polluted and developing at a breakneck pace.

Undoubtedly the best part were the friends we made along the way. Nothing beats bonding over yak skewers and dubious dishes imbibed with yak butter. We traveled with a group of hilarious Canadians guys and a lovely French girl. Melissa and I actually waved little while hankies as they pulled off for their next stop. They will be sorely missed, but I have the most wonderful memories of us horseback riding through Tibetan mountain villages, playing with a new born lamb (I have never seen Melissa’s mothering instinct kick in until now) and being blessed by Tibetan monks. Oh and meeting a living buddha. Because how many people in the world can say that??

Tonight finds me on the docks of Chongqing. After a minor scare aboard what appeared to be the steerage class of a cargo ship, we are finally aboard the right ship bound for the Yangtze river on a cruise for the famed Three Gorges. I wish I could show you a shot of our room right now with Stevie Wonder streaming in through the PA system. I was a bit concerned about the floods which hit the area about a week ago, however things as of today are back to normal. Praise God it has air con. They don’t call Chongqing one of China’s three furnaces for nuthin’.

Anchors away!

This is going to be one of those blog entries that I hope my mother never reads. It’s being written as a faithful account of my time in Tibet, but I’m not particularly proud of the events that happened. And before I go on, let me also say that I’m really not trying to dramatize the events or imply that I’m McGuyver.

That said, this entry is about how we got accidentally left behind on Mt. Everest, lost in the dark and how we found our way back to base camp. With a little photographic creativity.

setting off
I set off for base camp three days ago from Lhasa. Our little band of travelers consisted of random people from all over China who wanted to share a ride. Tibet is seriously politically sensitive territory. Foreigners and local Chinese don’t really mix as foreigners need special permits, a local guide and a set itinerary. Which means the only back packers you will be able to organize a shared ride with, are Chinese travelers.

This has been a bit of a new experience for me as an overseas born Chinese, and certainly eye-opening. However I must say, I’m really grateful to have had these new friends.

From Lhasa to Mt. Everest base camp is a two day drive, stopping over at Shigatse. I had struggled with headaches in Lhasa but thought I had acclimated by the time we arrived in Shigatse, which is 1000 km above Lhasa. The moment I stepped foot on Everest at 5000 km however, I could tell it wasn’t going to be easy.

base camp
Within an hour of our arrival, everyone else seemed to be doing fine. Except me. I was fighting back the urge to dry heave and a pounding headache. From base camp, most tourists will take transport to the next summit where there is a fantastic view of the top of Mt. Everest. Against what is probably my better judgment, I got on the bus. I don’t think I could have forgiven myself if I came all this way and passed up the chance to see it up close because of a stupid headache.

This side of the Himalayas is completely barren and icy. Nothing but the tiniest weeds grow, and the ground is cut with icy streams from the glaciers above. Nat Geo adventurers make it look so darn easy. I’m a pretty healthy and active girl, but I felt like I moved in slow motion up there and was panting for air after every few steps.

for the love of the game
There is something unique about photographers that sets us apart from other creative pursuits. For one, our craft straddles between technology and artistry. Another is that to be a photographer is to be infinitely curious about the world. We lug our cameras to the far corners of the earth and even though the trip is over, our journey is only half begun. We wake up at insane hours to catch the light and in short, go to great lengths to capture the perfect frame.

So naturally, it was a dozen of us photographers that got left behind on the summit, after the remaining transport had ferried back the very last frozen and weary tourist.

lost
By the time we realized there was no bus coming back for us, it was almost night fall. There was some debate in the group (“no way they would leave us here!”) before the consensus was that it probably wouldn’t be a very good idea to wait and find out.

We were likely only three to four hours’ hike away from base camp, and the feeling of imminent danger wasn’t particularly overwhelming. But how utterly unprepared we all were was rather frightening. We split into three groups (mostly based on hiking speed) and before long, we had lost the main road and were stumbling in the dark, following icy streams. We had totally lost the other groups, and despite China Mobile signs along the road up to base camp, there was definitely no reception.

Somewhere far ahead, we saw a tiny flash of light, followed by another. It took a few minutes before we realized it was the first group, using their on camera flashes and strobes to signal to us. Every 10-15 minutes or so, we’d see a few flashes, return the signal, and then flash the last group. In this way we were able to make sure we all stayed together and moved in the same general direction.

Pro/am photographers often complain that every other person now has a fancy SLR and flashy gear. In this particular instance.. I’ve never been quite so grateful.

A few hours later, we finally came to base camp, half frozen and looking like we’d all smeared blue ink on our lips. Inside the nomad tents we were staying at, the remainder of our group who had made it back earlier fussed around us offering a dozen different herbal remedies. I half heartedly gulped some down, force-fed myself a few spoonfuls of rice before falling into a restless, head-pounding slumber.

As I type this on the road back to Lhasa on my iPhone, there have already been more misadventures. But that will have to wait… Right now I’m just enjoying being at a normal elevation of 4000 km.