Getting to the big Buddha on Lantau isn’t difficult, though the journey takes a couple of hours by the time you’re done. The train gets you 45 minutes away, where buses wait to take tourists to the site of the largest seated Buddha in the world.
Because the train also goes to Hong Kong’s Disneyland, I was surrounded by excited children shouting “Dineylan!” and weary parents, mainly shouting at the children, for the 40 minute journey.
The transportation system is set up just fine, with the MTR station a short walk from the bus depot where the number 23 was waiting.
The road to the big Buddha, and Po Lin Monastery close by, is closed to private cars, so only buses and taxis ply the route.
The driver started climbing up the steep mountains, grinding his gears. As he plateaued he obviously picked up confidence, and picked up speed.
By the time we were descending again he was taking the steep hairpin corners at 70mph, with scant regard for either the centre dividing line or his shock absorbers, while we bounced around like popcorn in the pan. Then suddenly he shot into a one lane section of the road, with construction barriers on one side, the guardrail and a steep drop on the other, and presumably a queue of buses that may or may not have been approaching from the opposite direction.
This wouldn’t have been a problem had he actually applied his brakes. He didn’t. So when we sideswiped the construction barrier, in the midst of his digging around in the bag at his feet for his ringing mobile phone, the bus took it rather badly. The driver swerved away, nearing the guardrail while several passengers soiled themselves.
We came to rest a little way up the road, bus and passengers, if not nerves, intact. How ironic it would have been to get killed on the way to a sacred religious monument.
Note for ride home: that’s why they put seatbelts in buses.
The Po Lin Monastery is very pretty, with a grand Buddha hall, and a restaurant that I was eager to try, having had monk food in Japan, in a tranquil garden surrounded by water and blossoming sakura trees.
While the food was good (except for the soup which looked like what you’d find in an overfull storm drain after a deluge), it was served in a large dining hall that was neither tranquil nor blossoming. I didn’t mind so much; I was just grateful to be off the bus.
The giant Buddha watches serenely as thousands of tourists huff and puff up the 268 steps (that’s around a 20 story building). It is indeed impressive and huge.
The Wisdom Path was about a mile away down a well-travelled sidewalk thick with people. The Path itself has tall wooden monuments set in a figure eight that represent the Heart Sutra, which gives the secret to the essence of wisdom. By extension, walking the Path makes you wise. Obviously I circled it till I was dizzy.
The fates had it in for me today; the same driver was on hand to take me back, no doubt topped up on the rice wine by now. I buckled up and settled in for another terrifying ride. I wasn’t disappointed. He’d actually found another gear since we last met, and careened around corners at mach 3.
Once I relaxed I didn’t mind so much. I was full of wisdom, and monk food, and nice memories of the day. And the rather chunky Chinese lady who’d all but fallen asleep on my lap would provide quite nice padding, should the need arise.