All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. Fog, all flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy. All flat roads and no climbing makes Lindsay a dull boy.
I’m currently somewhere in Shandong province (don’t even know the name of this town in Latin script), just south of the Yellow River. The four days riding south of Beijing have been all flat, and incredibly dull. Flat roads, too many bad drivers, flat countryside, corn and cotton fields. For the last two days, it’s been heavy fog, visibility 5-10m, so there’s even less to see – although in a way it’s not quite so dull, as the danger factor has increased – Chinese drivers don’t slow down for fog, no sireee. You just have to beep your horn more frequently.
However, another two or three more days, and I’ll be in Qingdao, which should be more interesting, and I should have something more enlivening to write about. Possibly I’ll even drink a Tsingtao or two.
Escalator safety is easy to learn, and easy to remember
I kid you not – this was part of the message I kept hearing on the MTR (subway system) in Hong Kong. It all felt very British to me, with so many pointless safety announcements and signs everywhere. For someone straight from the UK, I guess they would notice the Chinese influence more, but the whole place felt quite British to me – perhaps the large number of people from the sub-continent were part of it.
This is not to say it was bad – for one thing people were not staring at me. Another is that I have found the Chinese are not genetically incapable of good driving, as I had suspected. Remarkably few horns were in use, and I even saw one driver let another in. It did make for some odd moments though, as I would just waltz across the road when I felt like it, only to look back and realise that everyone else was waiting for the “cross now” signal. Someone else commented that they liked it because they felt like just another expat – perhaps that’s what I didn’t like, that I wasn’t special any more. Overall, I was glad to visit Hong Kong, but I’m not sure that I would want to live there.
I had two reasons for visiting Hong Kong – one to get a new visa, two to do some shopping. Visa was absurdly easy – used an agency to get a 90 day dual entry visa – all done on the same day. Easiest process ever. It’s like a big shopping mall there, so the shopping was easy too. This message is coming from my new iPod touch – a rather sexy little piece of kit that does music, videos, photos and can browse the net with Wi-fi. All with a very cool finger-operated display.
Flew back to Beijing, going to be here for a couple more days, then make my way to the ocean. Rather worryingly, I’m having a mechanical issue with my Rohloff hub – they’ve given me something to do, to try and fix it – need to get my hands on some kerosene. Hopefully it will hold together long enough to get back to HK, where I can go back to the “Flying Ball” bike shop – they are the regional distributors. Or maybe it will all come right, would save me a lot of hassle if it does.
Oh and thanks to all who sent me birthday greetings, much appreciated
It’s still taking a little while to sink in, but I have now reached Beijing. It seems a very long way from London – over 15,000km actually – and it feels a bit weird, walking around, meeting people who are complaining about the jetlag from the flight to London. Oh yeah? I just got in from London too…
Some tough, but extremely beautiful riding from Pingyao up to Beijing, following the G108. Patches were really tough, with massively cracked up pavement, enormous lines of coaltrucks, huge mudbaths to struggle through – but then at some points the trucks took a different route. Suddenly the road was beautiful new seal, through glorious rural valleys, just a few small villages, hardly any people. Really glorious riding.
But tough tough tough. At one point they were resealing about 20km of the road, and I had to wait for a while as the machine laying down the seal went past. Had to haul the bike up the side of the road past the hot stuff, then where it was a little cooler, I could ride by myself, on brand new seal, on a road blocked to traffic. Great right? Except it was a 20km uphill climb, winding around switchback after switchback, grinding my way up a never-ending slope. Finally reach the top, huge rows of mountains stretching off in the distance. Ridiculously steep concrete roads wind down to villages precariously perched on steep slopes.
Of course, all that uphill built up my credit…and then it was repaid…70km of downhill, through a glorious valley, with huge amounts of slate piled up on the side of the road, being cut and polished, before being boxed in crates to be shipped out. Getting later in the evening, decide not to stop at the obvious place, instead head up a tough, but short, slope into the deepening gloom, spying a small town at the outskirts of Beijing. Pull up at the place with a hotel sign, but some other locals say that I can’t get a place to sleep there. But don’t worry, come and have something to eat at our restaurant, and we’ll sort something out.
It’s now full dark, and I no longer have any lights, after one went missing (stolen/fallen off, not sure) the other day. There is another climb coming up, and no obvious places to stay coming up. So yet again, I put my trust in the locals, figuring that something will work out. This works surprisingly well, having only let me down once. But sometimes it’s a leap of faith, especially when you are having trouble communicating, and you’re not sure if you’ve got the message across.
So shortly I’m being given hot tea, to warm me up, and I’m recommended a dish. I haven’t learn any Chinese words or characters for foods yet, instead either pointing at dishes, or just picking a dish from the menu entirely at random. Sometimes that results in me getting a bowl of cold noodles and tripe, sometimes it gets some really nice stuff. For some reason I often get dishes with a lot of chillis in them, not sure why.
This time I end up with duck soup, with a ducks head floating in it, one eye staring up at me. Hmmm. How do I eat a duck’s neck with chopsticks? Oh well, tuck in.
The 6 year old daughter comes home from school, and is shown the foreigner. She is shy at first, but then out comes her English language book, and she is going through it with me, practicing the words. Her mother is also learning. Lots of fun. And then at the end of dinner, someone says “Come with me for somewhere to stay” – OK then. We pedal off into the dark, down some dodgy streets, into a dark residential area. Hmmm. But no worries – we turn into what seems to be some sort of place that I think is set up for slightly longer term apartment rental. I’m shown a great room, hot shower, all clean and nice – and they have a photo of another cyclist who stopped there! All costs the same as the 6 bed windowless dorm I’m staying in here in Beijing. The trust thing worked out again. The next day, it was a relatively easy 40km ride to the centre of Beijing.
My birthday is coming up shortly, and I believe that you should always have your birthday off. I’ve done this for several years, and see no reason to change. So I’m going to have some more time off in Beijing, and do a side excursion to Hong Kong by plane, to sort out a visa, and maybe buy myself some birthday presents.
Assuming that all goes well, and it’s not too cold, I’m then going to head to the coast – to say I’ve crossed the Eurasian continent – then down towards Qingdao, to have a Tsingtao.
Blackened is the end
Winter it will send
Throwing all you see
Into obscurity
Well, perhaps not that bad, but things have been absolutely filthy on my way here, incredible levels of pollution, all those cheap “Made in China” things have a price, even if you don’t pay it upfront. Thick smog for days, you can barely see the chimneys and cooling towers through it. Valleys shrouded in smoke, just the flare of the tower in the distance…if only I could post photos here.
But in a perverse way, I’ve actually been enjoying it. Not sure I could keep doing it forever, but it’s an unusual sort of challenge. The roads have generally been OK, but for the last 100km, it’s just been a mudbath. This delayed me a bit, and it took me 4.5 days to get here, rather than the 4 I had hoped for. I was so filthy when I got here, that the hostel staff hosed down my bike, my panniers and me.
I’m now in Pingyao, a city that somehow escaped the bulldozers, and is something like what I expect much of China must have looked like – a walled city, with narrow streets, traditional architecture, really quite nice. Hopefully the tour groups are only here for the day, and it should quieten down tonight. I was only going to stop here one night, but I think I’ll take the day off tomorrow, have a rest. Then race up to Beijing, hopefully find somewhere that will have the rugby on. Local times will be shocking though, unclear if I can find somewhere that will be open.
Had a couple of students on bikes escort me the first 20km out of Xi’an the other day, quite nice since the road was a mess, and navigation was a touch tricky. Not sure what it is, if it’s me (filthy face and all), or the new province, but people seem to be treating me differently now. Far, far, more pointing and shouts of “Laowai” – can get a bit frustrating when you just want to sit and have a quiet moment of rest, eat a chocolate bar or whatever. Cars following me for 15km, cyclists riding along with me, seemingly not too bothered by my inability to understand them.
So a rest here, then the plan is to race to Beijing, hopefully find somewhere to watch the rugby. Current thinking is that I may get a flight to HK, to sort out my visa, and watch the RWC final there. Will see what happens – must do something about my visa though, current extension expires in two weeks.
Long time coming, but I have made it to Xi’an, the start/end of the Silk Roads – depending on which particular story you read. But it was quite something to get through the city walls, and make my way to the Bell Tower, where my hostel is superbly located.
Random thoughts/views from the road from Lanzhou to Xi’an:
Roll out of Lanzhou, busy busy, lots of commuters, I’m just another cyclist…not quite, I get the thumbs-up from a normally staid policeman. Want to buy water from my favourite street vendor. Seems to be not right in the head. His wife doesn’t trust him, he sells me things, she comes over and makes sure he gets the price right. Saw her hit him once, great left jab. He just defiantly went and sat back down on his chair. Don’t think it was the first time she’s hit him. She clearly felt no threat towards her. The power politics of women here are interesting, but that is another blog entry sometime.
Smog smog smog, as I slowly grind up the hill, I see just how bad it is, hanging over the city, cloaking the valley. Surely it must be just around the city…no, it goes on for miles and miles. Visibility cut right down, filtering out the sun.
Riding through tough terrain, steep hills, but terraces cut into them, small plots cultivating all sorts of crops. A man works a plough behind a pair of donkeys, struggling to keep up with them as they turn the corner at the end of the small field. No tractors used here. They couldn’t get to the small plots. Steep narrow footpaths wind their way up the hills, too steep for any vehicle.
Carts are pulled by people, not animals. A strap across the body, handles on each side, hauling all manner of things. Corn, apples, pears, vast bunches of celery. People with stalls on the side of the road, selling pears – “Refined Pears” – on the box. Some stalls are well setup, tables and umbrellas, lots of stock. One man stands on the side of the road in the rain, only a small amount of stock, no shelter from the rain, he’s holding up the scales, as he doesn’t have a table. Yet he seems the most cheerful of the lot. People are remarkably upbeat, considering what’s been done to them over the last 100 years.
Pass the 2,000km marker on the 312 road I have followed from the border. Started at over 4,800, have gone a long way in a month. Want to take a photo, nothing to steady the camera on, get a slightly odd shot. No matter.
Dirty town, stop for a Coke, sit on the steps outside the store to drink it. Realise a large crowd of girls is gathering at the window of the restaurant next door, pointing and staring. Doesn’t bother me so much, I sit and relax, ignoring it for now. Find a hotel, hot water promised for later, but is still cold, fall asleep, not bothering with a shower.
Rain next day, not happy grinding up the hills in the rain. Puncture. Crap. Rear tyre falling apart, only bought it one month ago. Oh that was about 3,000km ago. Put on new tyre, roll again. Two more punctures that day, not happy, didn’t have much time to spare, days getting shorter now. But where are the trucks? Ah, another main road joins this one, here they all are again. Grind up the hill. At the top is a tunnel. No lights, and roadworks closing one lane. Chat to guy directing traffic. Laugh about tunnel, then go for it. Noisy trucks with me, so loud in the tunnel. Then they speed off and…it’s pitch black and I can’t see anything! Have my rear flashing light, but no front light. I know there are potholes in this tunnel, and lovely metal conduits running across the road to catch cyclists out, so I stop and wait in the darkness. Finally more vehicles come along, lighting the way, and I make my way through, emerging into the light, and the downhill!
Struggled a bit today, thought I wasn’t going to make the planned distance…then I go downhill for ages, onto the flat, racing along, make my planned town just before dark. First hotel wants to look at my passport, calls various others over, mucks around for ages, finally says, “mei yo” – no foreigners. I was obviously foreign, why didn’t they just say that in the first place, instead of mucking me around? LP says this place is a “quintessential northern town, broken streetlights and coaldust everywhere.” Well, there is coaldust, but it’s not that bad, and the streetlights work. Order a bowl of noodles, turns out to be noodles and tripe. Remind myself yet again that I really must learn some more Chinese characters and words for food. Usually I just point at something random on the menu, it’s like a lucky dip. Sometimes wander around pointing at other people’s plates, or walk into the kitchen. Good thing I’m not vegetarian.
Roll along the dual carriageway, lots more farming and people now. But then turn up into the hills, and it’s beautiful, no people, just bush. Too much fog/rain today though, very limited visibility. I think it actually is fog now, not just smog. At least it doesn’t taste like coal. But then I head downhill in Victorian England. Or something like that – coal everywhere, filthy muck along the road, huge piles of it everywhere, trucks carrying it. Stunted bushes along the side of the road are covered in black, small patches of green struggle through. A girl walks out in a shockingly white jacket, the cleanness harsh against the blackness. Wonder how long it stays clean. Ride on into town.
Find a hotel, they show me a room, but then don’t seem to want to look at my passport, and take my money. No, I must sit down in the bedroom with three ladies knitting. A pregnant women sits wrapped up in bed. I am given a cup of tea, and told to wait. Vaguely I’m wondering what’s going on, I’d really like to go to the toilet, and get a shower. But a surprise – a young man walks in, the son I guess, who speaks English, and he gets me sorted out. 24 hour hot water, I need it. The shower represents China to me – it has lights, a radio, 9 different places that water can come from, out of a hose, the roof, jets on the wall…and yet nothing works quite right, and the water isn’t hot enough. But it will do.
Eat a bowl of noodles and other random stuff from a clay pot, down an alleyway. Bit cold and miserable tonight. Getting some supplies from a small store, a man walks in says something to me – hang on, that was in English. He was vice-principal of Bin Xian Number 2 Middle School, and he studied English back in 1989 – must have been an oddity then. He wants me come and talk to a class at his school. Why not? The school is nearby, and even though it is 20:45, classes are still on. We walk into one, and he asks me to “give a lecture on learning English.” Err, OK. So I babble some stuff in front of this class:
After that, I meet the family, including the 16-year old who wants to become an interpreter, and they encourage him to talk with me. Some other students from the class come along too. They don’t understand all I say, but they want to hear the native English speaker. Afterwards, I am given mooncakes and fruit, for the journey to Xi’an. It was getting late, and I need to sleep, but it was a good experience.
Long grind out of town the next morning. Two good climbs, with tunnels to match. Total lack of driver ability, courtesy and understanding mean that minor incidents turn into major traffic jams, trucks backed up for kilometres. I ride past it, make it to the top of the climb before the trucks. Mostly coal trucks, black dust everywhere. Mixed with rain, I watch the fluid running down from my front mudguard. It looks like used engine oil.
Pass through a town, major roadworks on the main road through town. No do one lane at a time stuff, rip up the whole road instead. Lots of rain, total mudbath through town, takes ages to get through. Getting all a bit down about it, but it keeps going and going. Get to the edge of town, a dual carriageway starts, and a wonderful piece of Chinglish lifts my spirits. The road has two lanes in each direction, plus another wide shoulder/lane. Over each of these are signs indicating their use – I can choose from “Non-flexible Lane,” “Runway,” or “Exceeding the Lane.” I have to think a bit, before opting for the “Non-flexible Lane.”
Getting more filthy through the day, I stop to clean vast amounts of muck off my brakes. The drivetrain is a hopeless case. I wonder if I should stop at one of the many little stalls along the side of the road, where you can wash your coaltruck. I would do it, but my panniers don’t seem quite so waterproof as they were when I started, and I don’t really feel like filling them up with water. Dropping the tent and Thermarest has I helped I guess, but my bike still feels heavy enough on those uphills.
Finally get to the outskirts of Xi’an. Distance signs contradict themselves, and the city seems enormous. Try to work out where I am on my maps, not sure. Some locals help out. Always seems to be a bit further than I think. Finally, there they are – the city walls. Still some pedalling to do, but it can’t be far…there is the Bell Tower! And beside it, the first McDonald’s I’ve seen since Istanbul. 6 months, 11,000km. Further investigation this morning reveals that there seems to be 3 Starbucks and 3 McDonald’s within a few hundred metres of where I’m staying. Crazy stuff.
Making it to the hostel, I’m vaguely wondering about what I must look like, and I just want a shower and clean clothes. I’m getting some strange looks from people – even the Westerners are staring at me. Must be because I look like this coalminer:
For some reason they stuff me around for ages when check in. Just give me the key will you? Put the bike away, don’t even bother cleaning it, don’t want to think about that yet. Will be nasty. But finally I get my room (dorm this time, same price as a cheap hotel in small towns). But it is nice and clean, and there is hot water, lots of it. And I settle into the bar, drinking my free beer, and I’m warm clean, and happy.
It’s a bit strange though, suddenly I’m back into the tourist circuit. Dreadlocks, etc. The usual crowd. People just come in on the plane, or talking about how tough the train journey was. No matter, it’s a very nice change to speak in English for a while.
One more thing, this post is ridiculously long already – there is a fancy supermarket over the road that sells New Zealand Mainland cheese! Colby, Edam, Mild, Tasty! Don’t think I can hold off, I must go and buy some…
Right? Because after all, we just can’t guarantee getting all the minerals, chemicals and various substances we need from our diet. And we can’t just add these things to water, like fluoride, when you are in a town where most people drink bottled or boiled water. No, no, the provincial government in Gansu is far smarter than that – they have come up with an innovative air distribution network for these vital nutrients. OK, OK, it does make it a bit difficult to see more than 200m, and some people think that Lanzhou has the worst air pollution in the world, but they are just lack the true vision of the future that China is trying to realise. Not to mention the side benefits – no need to buy sunglasses or sunscreen, even on a cloudless day, the “heavy air” is filtering out those harmful UV rays. And of course I don’t need to buy cigarettes any more, living here is like smoking a pack a day.
So here I am, relaxing in Lanzhou, one of the most polluted cities in the world. I presume it gets worse in the next month or two, as vast amounts of coal get burnt, to provide heating. Speaking of coal, I’m starting to see more coal trucks on the road, but nothing like what is coming up, based on others’ accounts. The thing that I don’t get though is that I’ve seen fully laden coal trucks going in both directions on the roads. Some sort of market failure happening there, surely.
Fairly good time riding here from Jiayuguan, 5 days on the bike, no more monster days, but some up near the 200km mark. Back in the hills too – a couple of big long slow climbs. Of more concern was a freezing cold day of rain. It was the first day out of Jiayuguan, and I didn’t realise it was going to be so bad when I got up. Started out cold, then after a little while rain started coming down, and just kept coming. If I’d known it was going to be like that, I would have stayed in bed. They wouldn’t let me onto the expressway – shocking that, surely those no biking signs only apply to locals, not laowai? – and so I had to stay on the old road. A couple of days later, the old road disappeared, so I jumped through the gap, and back onto my preferred position riding along the “Urgent Lane” of the smooth expressway.
It wasn’t too bad, but the surface is not so clean, with more glass and sharp objects around. I’m running very slick Maxxis tyres now, much faster than my XRs, but not nearly as robust. So of course I got a puncture. Problem was, since I don’t have full finger gloves anymore, my fingers were frozen and didn’t work properly. I found a bit of shelter in front of a service station in the middle of nowhere, and started trying to sort out my puncture. It took me about five minutes just to remove one fingerless glove. I was really starting to wonder what the hell I was doing there, and why I didn’t just go and find a hotel, then get a train to Lanzhou. But then the girl working at the service station came out, and said, in English, “Can I help you?” She invited me inside, to the warmth, where I could thaw out a bit, and sort out my tyre. There was one other staff member there, sound asleep on the couch – nothing unusual there. I was left in peace, no hassles, just warmth. Rather different to other times when you get crowds gathering to watch you do the most mundane tasks.
Later on, the weather eased up a bit, the rain stopped, the road was downhill, and the wind stayed at my back. Considering I stopped twice for punctures, I still quite easily did 175km. Some more good days after that, but had a few issues. One pump had been playing up for a while, and I’d gotten a new one. The new one didn’t want to come off the valve, and I delivered it a swift kick…resulting in two half-broken pumps. Neither entirely useless, but I couldn’t get my tyres above 40psi, meaning I was having to work harder than I needed to for the next few days, until I could get to here. I have since purchased a new main pump, and a basic, small lightweight backup.
A few interesting places along the way – obviously I was visiting places that very few tourists go to – but clearly almost every tourist that does visit is on a bike. You know that, because looking on your map, it’s the obvious only place for a cyclist to stay in the area – and then when you turn up, they don’t even blink at the bike, and help you get it up the stairs, and put it in your room. Always the best option if you can get away with it, but some hotels don’t like it. Generally the cheaper places are OK with it – not usually carpeted – but then the rooms can be small, making it a bit crowded. For a different storage location, at the enormous hotel I’m staying at in Lanzhou, it’s in the gatehouse, in the guard’s bedroom.
I’ve posted my tent and Thermarest ahead to Darwin. Camping is difficult from here on, and there are many cheap places to stay. This drops a few more kilos from the bike. I could maybe have changed to just all my gear on the back of the bike, saving some more weight, but decided to stick with four panniers, so that the weight is distributed more evenly. I’ve now dropped a few kilos from my gear over the last few weeks, which should make it just that bit easier getting up some of those big climbs. Just checked my body weight today – 78kg – which is only a little bit down from my starting weight of a little over 80kg. Certainly not dropping weight like Jan has been – he’s dropped probably more than my whole luggage weight! But I think I’d be looking pretty unhealthy.
Off to the visa office yesterday, to try and get an extension. Remarkably helpful, very polite, no queues or fuss, excellent English spoken, some of them must have lived overseas. They said I could have gotten an urgent same-day service, but I was planning on being here until Tuesday anyway, so I said no problem, will pick it up on Monday. Fingers crossed of course, but it looks good. A little bit concerned about hotels being full for the first week of October (national holiday week), so have already booked my hostel for Xi’an. It may be the first time I’ve booked a place in advance for this whole trip. Problem is that it means I must leave on Tuesday, and I must do several big days to get there in four days. But I’m feeling up to it. Ate some dodgy street food last night, which came back up in the middle of the night, but that seemed to be it – once it was gone in the first go, my body just returned to normal, and I’m eating well again. Have eaten plenty of food from little carts on the side of the road, not normally a problem when lots of other locals are doing the same.
A bit more mucking around here for the next couple of days. General relaxing, maybe a bit of sightseeing. Apparently the museum is good. Has surprised me a little, this place – it doesn’t really get many tourists, yet I’ve run into many local people who speak English. This is quite a change from most of the places I’ve been to. Thankfully I haven’t had any requests to look at my pianist yet – read Jan’s blog to understand what I mean.
