At the time of the trip
The meaning of travel is to me. No matter how far I go, I always know how to return.
the first serious poem I memorized in my memory was "boiled beans burning beans /beans crying in the pot /born on the same root /why should I be in such a hurry?" Grandpa explained its background to me, but I didn't quite understand it but memorized it by heart. Why recite it? Grandpa often went to the surrounding towns because of his work at that time. Every time I pestered him to take me to play, he would say that I would take you there if you memorized this. What he calls "this" is all different content specified by him. So I recite some poems, recite the zodiac, and recite the ugliness of Zi Yin Mao.
I think it was my earliest trip. Sitting in front of my grandfather's big bike, I was always excited to see the big trees and grass, birds and dogs along the way, each of which kept me telling stories. I made up stories that didn't match, and I didn't know what it was. Grandpa just rode his bike and put me down when he got there, and he went to do his job. I just play by myself, whatever I want, catching butterflies, watching ants, origami, blowing leaves, and occasionally with other children brought in.
once I took my brother and sister with us, and we took an electric tricycle, which was the most common tool in those years. It was already bumpy, and the road was particularly broken, and we staggered in the car one by one, feeling that our internal organs were in a mess. My sister was the only one standing in front of her, holding the handle, her little body motionless, silent, and without looking back, leaving us screaming. I don't know what's wrong with her. She's cut off from the rest of the world. She's ruthless. Later, I mentioned this scene more than once, but she didn't remember it herself, but she was as calm as she was in many things.
this is the bike my grandfather was carrying. Because it was taken through the screen door, there was a thin grid in the picture.
when I was a child, I frequently followed my parents back and forth between Tongcheng and Maanshan. The traffic is far less developed than it is now. I have to take a one-day bus for more than 200 kilometers one way, and the only way to cross the river is the ferry. I get carsick and every time I vomit, I hope the boat will cross the ferry, not to see the Yangtze River, but to get off the bus and get some air. Since then, I have taken too many cars, and I may be numb and stop vomiting before I know it. My father's carsickness cure process is even more strange. I once sat on a bus for two days on a business trip. When I was about to vomit, the bus almost overturned on a sudden brake. I was frightened and didn't faint again after that.
in recent years, the ferry has had an accident, suspended and modified, replaced with a new ship to resume operation, and Maanshan has its own Yangtze River Bridge. Whenever I cross the bridge, I often think of the time when a truckload of people came down and stood on the boat looking out, each with their thoughts.
Let's talk about trains. I still have a vague impression of the first time I took the train. A certain train was not crowded. I walked back and forth in the carriage from time to time. I was energetic and did not feel tired at all. Everything was fresh. Even the biscuits brought by my uncle from home seem to be tastier than usual.
before, there were no bullet trains and high-speed trains, and windows could be opened. For a moment, the sun slid in through the window with the wind, and the passengers fell asleep on the small table, and two bottles of mineral water shook slightly beside the table. There were also times when the seats were full, the aisles were full, the carriages were crowded, and even people were lying under the seats. People shuttling back and forth are pushing each other impatiently, and the slightest collision is likely to swell into a quarrel. In this narrow and almost suffocating dark space, the faces are unshielded tired, tired to have no dignity, and the well-dressed makeup during the day all retreat in a mess.
the train itself is more like a journey. At a uniform speed, it passes through villages, farmland, rivers, tunnels, cities, lush or desolate, continuing the track that is safe from rain, rain, and snow, as if a person is babbling. It can take days from one end to the other. Traditional train seats often make it easier for people to talk and get acquainted with each other. We don't know each other, but we don't have any scruples.
I have seen a young, burly man who as soon as he sat down asked the old man across the street for advice about the 1960s. A migrant worker went on and on about his arduous journey from Guangyuan in Sichuan to Changzhou in Jiangsu Province. A man from the northeast told me about our winter in the south of the Yangtze River. I couldn't stand it with a straight frown. An aunt talked about the distribution of her inheritance in the future and bemoaned the unfilial piety of her children. Her two sons quarreled, and several warm-hearted audiences around her comforted them with their own experiences. A train carries too many people's parents, joys, and sorrows. These piecemeal scenes are similar and different day after day.
the emptiest train I have ever taken is the No. 7102 train in July 2011, commuting between Huangshan and the west of Nanjing, a green hard-seat ultra-slow train. It is one of the few local trains in the country that start with "7". It is the only urban short-distance train in the Nanjing section, with only eight carriages. At that time, many people simply sat and played, leaving a souvenir for the Nanjing West Railway Station, which was about to disappear. A group of friends and I got on the train from Zhonghua Gate Station and went to the west of Nanjing for about an hour. The ticket price was 2.5 yuan. Most of the people on the train are just like us. We open the windows for a blow, take pictures, and wantonly walk to the end of the car to see the tracks far away, like a movie scene.
when we arrived at the penultimate stop, a boy stopped and secretly turned over onto a small platform protruding from the rear of the car. The uncle of the conductor came, and we thought he was miserable. We didn't expect him to open the door connecting inside and outside and shouted at us with a smile. Hurry up if you want to come out. Come out and have a look. The bus is coming to the station. Of course, I don't forget to remind everyone to pay attention to safety. After a while, my uncle left, and a fierce aunt came over and stared at us, swearing as we walked: how can we be so uneducated again?!
watching the scenery fly by on the train, I often think of St. Excelsior Perry saying, "I think the little prince took advantage of the migration of a flock of wild birds."
the first time I went on the road alone during my freshman summer vacation, I had no idea. I just received the article on backpacking alone in the movie in the book. Artistic style infection. Starting from Hefei, I went to Chaohu, a small town about a two-hour drive from Hefei. Now it has been adjusted by the administrative division and has become a county-level city under Hefei. After arriving, I carefully followed my parents' instructions, "Don't stay in roadside inns." as far as I understand it, you can't stay in anything like a guesthouse and so-and-so. You must have a hotel. By this standard, the taxi took me to a place called Yulong Hotel. An ordinary single room cost 248 yuan a night, which was in 2006, and it was such a small non-tourist city. The price was more than double the budget given to me by my parents, but I thought I had no choice. Subsequently, he consumed a pile of food in the room carelessly.
I don't know where to go, but I was going to take an anti-bus in the downtown area. I accidentally bumped into the suburbs and saw no one. All I saw were trees and simple fields that no one was interested in. I had to walk all the way, so quiet that I felt distraught. I didn't eat or drink, the midday sun was shining directly, and I didn't have any sunscreen measures. Occasionally, a person came out and his eyes passed me in surprise. And I don't know what else I can do but walk on. When I came home the next day, I looked like a black man. When I talked about the trip, I was laughed at by my parents. Anyway, what a terrible first time I had.
in his early 20s, there are many days for a person to walk around, either to go somewhere or to get to the station to climb up to the nearest departure time and be taken there. Take a look around, east, west, north, and south, the advantage of going out alone is that you can wander around without having to go anywhere intentionally. There is no definition of what scenery is. From a few mountains and rivers, watching the sun flow down the river, scarecrows made of rags, people chatting in the open, like haystacks in Monet paintings, construction sites, cats passing by, beautiful women tore into teeth by mischief on posters, shabby windows, chimneys, apple-eating children, deep mountains and forests or a sea. You don't even need a name. Only these sketches and descriptions of the appearance also make me remember what kind of myself I had in those places.
after watching a program with an exclusive interview with blind singer Zhou Yunpeng, host Chai Jing asked about the trip, saying that since you can't see it, there's no need to walk around like this. Zhou replied that it would still be different. Like what? For example, the process of finding a way is very novel. The accent of the people around you, the name of the road, what you feel is completely different from the state of staying in the same place.
is also my state on the road. When I got to a strange place, I settled down and took a picture of the bus stop at the entrance of the hotel into the camera in case I didn't know how to get back to my place. Our sense of orientation was not good, and mobile navigation software was not popular at that time, so buying a map would all point to it. Sometimes even the map is removed, and I don't know where to ask. The people who ask for directions most often are in Chongqing, and the locals often can't tell the way clear for a long time, saying that our terrain is complicated and we turn uphill and downhill, so we may get lost.
when I am walking along a road, I go to a small restaurant to eat noodles and buy green tea drinks in the pedestrian street. Send text messages to the people you like and say some hypocritical and moist sentences. There are fireworks in full bloom in the distance. The lights are ablaze nearby. But when I was scared to death when I took a small black car, I imagined all kinds of bad results, and I felt safer when I got out of the car than ever before. Someone suddenly came to borrow Kleenex and took away a pack of my breeze. I had to buy another one but found it was fake. As soon as I sit around, I take out my pen and notebook and write something down. Fishermen and the sea, villages and mountains, several ordinary families around them, the woman by the river said, "I lost 50 cents on my laundry yesterday. I was so distressed to death!" The road is slippery and messy, the human voice of chicken and duck goods is strong, and the smell of the market is strong. To me, this is a richer view than the so-called scenic spots, a place original and authentic, from the spacious road to the corners, coming head-on, as if I have been very familiar with here.
once in Suzhou, I heard the sound of a street sale, and a loudspeaker shouted, "good news, Zhejiang Wenzhou, the largest tannery, Jiangnan Tannery has closed down!" The boss's wife has run away, and the boss is unable to run the business. A few years later, such a saying is still circulating in the streets today that the boss has a name, Huang he, and the version has also been upgraded, turning it into a "son of a bitch boss Huang he ate, drank, whoring and gambling, owed 350 million yuan and ran away with his sister-in-law."
at that time, I didn't use my cell phone to navigate, and I had a very poor sense of direction. I would always take pictures of the bus stop when I was traveling alone to see what time the last bus was so that I wouldn't find my way back very late.
of course, some people travel together a lot of time, with family, friends, and people who travel and become friends. What is more memorable than the scenery left in the photo album are the rare companions along the way. The scene is colored by people. If someone says something and who has been there, that place will become ours at that time. With our trivial matters and circumstances, others can't copy them.
A few years ago, when I was drifting in Zhangjiajie, the unsmiling ship boss was a very good playboy. Haircut, dark face and Rough Skin, clothes half buckled and half-open, rowing past the waterfall, skillfully jumping on a stone, rope around the boat, pulling ourselves, a boat of us were swung back and forth in the center of the waterfall shouting. My brother and I wanted to swim several times, but we finally got permission to splash and jump. When we were having a good time, we were frightened by the boat boss, "there is a water snake behind you, be careful!" "where?" "behind you, lying on your life jacket, I'm going to bite you!"
the mode of transportation in the Hexi Corridor is self-driving, and one of his companions is young but always asks people to call him uncle. He was driving, and that day I took the copilot and reminded him to turn left at the next corner. He was stupefied for a moment and suddenly came up with the words like a magic spell. If I heard it correctly, it should be "write with my right hand and hit a monster with my left hand." did I say you don't know the difference between the left and the right? he said it was a little bit. Why do you pronounce it that way? Ha, I don't know, it's just a habit since I was a child. Right? I also have silly sentences that I brought up when I was a child. It is impossible to say it deliberately on weekdays, and it often pops up before it is aware of it, just like a child. Son.
another sentence left in my mind is in Qinghai Lake, where I live in Xihai Town. When I get up in the morning, there is only one kind of cake that can be bought for breakfast. I don't remember whether it is called steamed cake, tasteless, plain, or dry. One of the traveling companions, eating the cake and swallowing very reluctantly at that moment, said solemnly, "to survive," as if how brave she had to be to eat it. The expression is very, more and more lovely. When I ate something similar later, I couldn't help thinking of the girl, her manner, and the trip.
after staying in Dalian for a few days, Uncle Wang over there was my uncle's comrade-in-arms. He arranged everything for us, such as food, accommodation, and transportation, that he had nothing to say. Once we were sorry and tried to buy tickets for ourselves. Uncle Wang was worried and was unhappy and said, "you guys don't follow the rules. Why is there such a big difference between southerners and northerners?" The tone is the same as Fan Wei in the sketch "selling crutches".
when I went to Huangshan that summer, the weather at the top of the mountain was changeable and it began to rain for no reason. We brought raincoats, and when we went up the mountain to take the bus, we picked up two disposable raincoats on our seats and stuffed them into our bags. At this time, he took it out and was ready to wear it. He was treated as a raincoat seller and asked how much it was. We hastened to talk about 10 yuan apiece, just as it was raining heavily, and the man took out the money to buy it without saying a word. We secretly rejoiced and shouted, "the raincoat is sold for 10 yuan and the last one is available on a first-come-first-served basis!" The second one was quickly and smoothly sold. Unexpected small profits are like walking to pick up money, but things are always balanced, and if you succeed, you will inevitably miss-- only to find that the dried bamboo shoots bought at the foot of the mountain have been transferred and fooled by the store.
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I'm afraid there are few railway stations like Nanjing Railway Station, where you can see a large expanse of Xuanwu Lake as soon as you get out of the station, and there are many buildings in the distance. At night, the empty square in front of the station is filled with people who are waiting for the bus or have nowhere to spend the night. This is a picture taken a few years ago.
during the Spring Festival in 2012, I went to Shenzhen with my mother. Although it was my first visit to the window of the world, I was no stranger. Because when I was young in Maanshan, there was my favorite children's park-if the window of the world is a miniature version of the whole world, then the children's park is a miniature version of the window of the world. Tiananmen Square, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, the Sydney Opera House, the pyramids, and the strange Sphinx in my eyes.
and the maze that trapped me, connected by small trees. I was shorter than a tree. I walked and walked inside. I turned a corner and ran into a dead end. I couldn't find an exit. Rushing around and banging around, tears wafted down my eyes. Finally, it came out anyway, and when my parents looked at me and smiled, I was even angrier and cried.
the maze of childhood, the way I have been to various places in the years since then. It is not always a beautiful thing on the road. Sunny days or rainy days are unexpected parts. And the significance of travel to me, no matter how far, can always know to return.