After taking a few minutes to take in the grey panorama and stuff down a banana, it was time to head back the way I came. Past the Chinese temple, past the now-empty reservoir (empty of people, not water), past Tin Fu Tsai and back to the stairs. The long, long, long staircase I came down at the start of the trail. Things went downhill (not literally) here for two reasons: obviously, climbing back up the stairs was not going to be easy, but also because it was right at this moment that it decided to rain. And not a light shower - it teemed down. I ripped out my rain jacket as quickly as possible, but not before getting soaked. With nowhere to hide I plodded on, up 627 steps (yes, I counted them), fast-flowing streams forming rapidly across the path. I slipped and slid all over place but somehow managed to stay on my feet. When a flat section appeared I thought I had reached the top, but then another 65 steps materialised in front of me. I wonder if I will ever grow to love stairs.

 

I hauled my wet shoes up the stairs and was relieved to make it back to the stone path. I was against having a paved walkway earlier in the day, but now it was saving me from trudging through the mud and shallow pools that were forming around me. But the drama didn't end there. All of a sudden three large dogs appeared up ahead, staring straight at me, no owner in sight. They immediately started barking menacingly, stopping me dead in my tracks. I didn't have a great record with wild dogs in Thailand and I had no idea what to expect from Hong Kong canines. We held each other's gaze for several moments before they decided I wasn't that interesting, and trotted off down the path away from me. I cautiously moved ahead, my heart still thumping, certain that they would reappear. Thankfully, I never saw them again.

 

Decision time: do I continue along the stones and steps all the way down to Tsuen Wan and drag my wet body onto a bus back home, or do I cut through the steep, overgrown trail I had taken that morning to avoid the bus and make it home sooner? The rain wasn't easing, I had no idea what state the trail would be in with all the rain that was falling, and I was wondering if I needed to worry about leeches in these areas. Of course I chose the trail. 

 

It was only 600 metres down through the thick vegetation but it took an eternity. I couldn't be certain that I was on the right track, as there was no way to check my phone without it getting drenched. Ribbons were hard to see through the rain, so I followed my instinct and slowly, carefully, inched my way down. By the end I had only slipped once, I didn't get lost and there were no leeches. All in all I'd say I did pretty well, and I was glad I had taken this route.

 

When I arrived home the first thing I did was turn the heater on. I haven't used a heater, or even lived in a place with a heater, since leaving Australia. It seems odd to now be in Asia, in summer, and feel cold. Sometimes I forget what it's like to have goosebumps and to shiver. I don't miss it.

 

It was another day of seeing relatively few people out in the mountains. Outside of road/paved sections, I saw a grand total of one other hiker and a local man cutting down tree branches. That was it for about six hours on the trails. Maybe there are far better trails to explore. Maybe people aren't stupid enough to hike during summer, when humidity is high and storms are likely. Or maybe most people are at work mid-week. Whatever the reason, I'm glad I have the chance to explore the mountains by myself, to be lost in my thoughts without the distractions I encounter in the rest of my life.