Nice: when I climbed up to the top

This was the moment I got captivated when I was walking the steps of Nice, up to the top of Castle Hill.

I feel dazzled at the orange panorama at its prime of glory tinted by the warm afternoon sun. As I was elevating myself above the sea level with each stair carved out of stones, I find myself further and further away from the hustle and bustle of the town center. It became quieter. The narrow streets and alleys which deprived me of the sense of direction a while ago were beginning to demonstrate their order. This is the scene I wish I had every time I got lost. I wish I could fly up to the Chimney and figure out where exactly I was. The power of height brings with it a sense of clarity. The azure bay of Nice extended itself to a perfect shape of an angel wing, a shape that I would probably fail to discover if I hadn't made an effort to ascend the hill.

This is the perspective of God, a bird's view.

As I recovered from my captivation by the sheer beauty of the scenery on my upward journey, a man with bright blue jumper grabbed my attention. He was sitting on the stone wall, with his rented blue bike leaning on the fence of the viewing platform, his feet crossing at the ankles. I began to wonder what music was being channeled to his ears by the white strings of his headphone. What brought him to Nice? Maybe he was taking a gap from his overburdened working life and seeking haven at a coastal city of relaxation? Anyway, that was the reason for my Nice retreat. Or perhaps, he was a resident of Nice himself and practicing his daily cycling routine? It was a courageous act as cycling does not seem to be a comfortable way up hill. My curiosity was aroused by his contradictory blend with his surroundings. His bright blue color theme forms a huge contrast with the orange afternoon warmth. Yet, his stillness neutralized the contrast.

He sat with complete stillness, like a statue, a statue probably bearing the name of "concentration" or “focus”. The air around him was not at all stirred by a slight motion. It would be a sin never pardoned if anyone dared patting on his shoulder to attempt a conversation. It is arbitrary to read his mind, but I'm pretty sure it is the panorama, be the beauty, the clarity, the unusual moment of looking downwards, or simply the height, that provided him with a place and a time to meditate. There is nothing much to do when our eyesight rises up to the roof-top level. It is the perspective that ignites a sense of cheerfulness in our stuffed mind. I was always wondering what magic there is at the top. What is so different when all sight barriers are dismantled? Why the fact of climbing higher excites many? Are we feeling bigger or smaller with the city underneath our feet?

Human beings have been fanatic of heights for centuries. The roof of the world, the Himalayas, houses dreaming heights of numerous explorers. George Mallory, a British mountaineer attempted the first ascent of Mount Everest in 1922 and 1924. He died on the 9th June, 1924 on the North Face together with his climbing partner Sandy Irvine. After missing for 75 years, his well-preserved frozen body was rediscovered in 1999 on a special expedition to recover him. With no obvious record, whether he successfully reached the summit remains a mystery. Lives were lost on the pilgrimage to Mount Everest, the highest point of the Himalayas. Yet, the long list of names that never return from the peaks failed to deter further attempts. Pioneers were hailed as national heroes. George Mallory's funeral was held at the St. Paul's Church in London, and attended by the royal family headed by King George V. His name glorifies Mallory Court today at Magdalene College, where he was an alumnus at Cambridge.

Legendary heights belong to a few who fears no danger. To the general public, the high can be mild and friendly. It is a Chinese traditional to ascend to hills and mountains on the 9th day of September, which is Chongyang Festival according to the lunar calendar. Such traditional dates far back to the Warring States Period (475-221BC) and is said to bring about longevity and wellbeing. The ancient origin of this mountaineering tradition has been blurred as verbal records were distorted gradually generations after generations and give rise to accounts of various versions. The one that is most persuasive to me is ancestral awe and nature worship, the primitive religious form. When our ancestors have not grasped the gist of cultivation, they live on their mountain gatherings. Climbing up to the mountains is a way to show respect, to pray for prosperity, longevity and health. In other cultures, sacred mountains dotted the earth. Mount Olympus is sacred by Greek mythology. Mount Kailash is said to be the abode of Shiva, the god of destruction.

And, we are creating heights that are easily accessible by elevating the various landmark towers. Eiffel Tower in France, Tokyo Skytree in Japan, Canton Tower in Guangzhou, and Oriental Pearl Tower in Shanghai......Old one got overshadowed by the new ones. New one kept updating the record of the tallest tower. Who knows what will be the next new height substituting the Tokyo Skytree (634 meter in height, being the tallest tower on earth up to now)?

With a single button, the elevator takes us up the tower. There we are with a panorama of the megacities. It is a moment when we will feel like the king of the world. There is nothing else taller. Annoying human figures shrink to a tiny moving dot. Towering buildings are pressed to squares. Boulevards are narrowed into black ribbons with colorful boxes. All chaos solved. Everything is in order. The sheer height sweeps the fog and noise that bewildered us when we were among the others. Now we are above the others. Rooted in the people's impulse to make out the clear picture, which is impossible to figure out when situated in the middle of skyscrapers, the towers take their chances to profit from our primitive love for heights.

I remember enjoying my time of solidarity and peace of mind up the Tokyo Skytree, up the Paris Notre-Dame Bell Tower, the Seoul Tower. I made no efforts climbing and greedily enjoy the outcome of human aspirations of "tall stuffs". Each time, I feel relieved. Far from the madding crowd. I feel belittled at the top, yet powerful as I know everything happening underneath, as if I was a General standing at my fortified fortress, being able to see my enemies any time they appear on my horizon, below me. Château de La Rivière, the cave at Fronsac, Bordeaux, where I visited last summer, owes its origin to Emperor Charlemagne when he decided to build a tower to watch over his enemies on top of the mountain overlooking Dordogne. Standing at the court of Château de La Rivière overlooking acres of its vineyard, a send of pleasure grabbed me at the sight of green rolling hills down there. Height gives out signs of menace. It also makes people secured.

Height makes me sober.

When I descend to the ground, I know where I am.

Height renders me humble.

When I descend to the earth, I understand how high people can climb up to.

#Travel #Europe #Nice #France