Penang Hill
On the
02/01/2019, we went to Penang Hill. The last time I came here was 7 years ago.
We arrived at the foot of the hillside at 6.35am and managed to ride the first
funicular train up that morning. As the train reached the top, the sun was
rising.
It was cold and chilly but the view was
breathtaking with a myriad of colours.
Views on top of Penang Hill
We explored the
area and took photos. Later, we walked through a track which my
sister proclaimed, was a shortcut back to the train station. As we were trudging along the way, the
passage became steeper and narrower.
As my feet moved towards the sloped down
cemented pathway, hesitation arose within me.
How far is this
trail? Will it become steeper? Would the path become muddy as we go farther
away? Doubts were encroaching my mind whether I could reach the destination. I
had to reassure myself.
I am going to be OK.
It may not feel like it now, but everything will be OK.
Concentrate on taking one step at a time.
As we were
walking, my right hand was holding a cane and my left palm held my sister’s arm
for support.
My walking cane. The seat is very useful
“You know, when I was lying in the ICU, I
wondered whether I would ever go out in the outdoors or hiking again.” I
reminisced to my sister.
Even before
the explosion, I was not an outdoor person. Hiking was not something I enjoyed.
Usually, I would end up being the last one in the group to reach the
destination. However, I appreciated the natural surroundings or going out for
walks. Just not the climbing up and down part.
One step at a time.
We
hoped that someone could tell us how far we needed to go, unfortunately there
were no one behind nor ahead of us.
The path
came to a bend, and the main road was in sight. I felt relieved. I would make
it out alive!
Yes, sounds
dramatic. However, considering that this was somewhat my first hike after the gas explosion, it was an achievement for me.
For the
next few days, I had muscle ache and cramps.
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