I left Beijing this morning for Louyang where I had planned on catching a bus to Dengfeng, a small town just next to the Shaolin Monastery where those famous Kung Fu monks live.
Well that was the plan. The reality is that I’m stranded in Luoyang. It’s 7pm and my last bus has already gone - not another one till the morning and I have no idea where I am.
Nervously I rely on the kindness of strangers, a short man in his 40s - or maybe an average height Chinese man in his 30s, its hard to tell here - approaches me and starts asking me where I’m from, he seems friendly and I’m trusting my gut so I start talking, he introduces me to a tour guide who leads me through the closed and dark bus station to a hotel that’s seen better days; but at least it’s a place to sleep.
You can always* rely on the kindness of strangers.
I pay and check in and nervously bolt the door shut and lock up all my belongings and head out for some dinner - nerves eased now that I have shelter and a shower.
I’ll try in the morning for Dengfeng.