Our trip seems to have got itself divided into chapters; until Iran, the Indian subcontinent including Nepal and now with yet another flight we begin the S.E Asia section starting in Chengdu, China. The 'direct' flight to Chengdu made a short stopover in Lhasa much to our frustration and we saw Tibet out of the window.
We knew not what we would find in Chinas 5th largest city of 15 million people but as we hurtled down uncrowded modern motorways and broad boulevards in an unofficial taxi (he was willing to hang our bikes out the back), we were surprised at the lack of people about. Perhaps we had got used to the mass of bodies in India. The Chinese seemed to have somewhere to be other than on the streets and those that where appeared to have a destination. The traffic flowed easily and most people rode bicycles or electric scooters in the designated, tree lined and separate non combustion lanes. I was impressed and figured most European cities could learn a thing or to from Chengdu. It was very quiet. If rather dull.
Temples, gardens and monasteries were visited then we headed out of town. Well, we tried but lost after about 10km in an area of fly-overs and motorways, realised we could not pronounce anything that anyone could understand so we scuttled back into town and bought a map with names written in Mandarin. After lunch it seemed a bit late to set off so we stayed another night, feeling a bit like failures and realising we had had an easy run with languages up till now. Still, next day we escaped the city without a wrong turn and headed south on the most boring road yet. It was a concrete dual-carriageway, well made and not at all busy but straight and dull with only the odd bleak socialistic tower block town built around a forlorn quadrangle to add any interest. The overcast skies and acid drizzle that stung our eyes didn't lighten our spirits either.
After 80km we saw a brown sign with English subtitles saying turn right for Pingle old Town its only 10km. Right being west and our general direction we figured it was time to get lost on some back roads and maybe see a bit of China. After a hundred meters we realised we had made a good decision. Here we were at last and it was all more Chinese than we could have asked for.
The road wound through undulating hills which were all garden. From the tended shrubs of the roadside verges through the drippy green vegetable patches where not an inch of ground was wasted, to the topiary tea plantations on the slopes. All this was broken up by spinneys and copses and clumps of the most wonderful trees. I figured when in Germany that perhaps the perfect group of trees toward the corner of a field was birch, oak and larch or pine in a ratio of 6.2.1 respectively. I will have to revise this when I find out the names of all these new trees. Over the next few days I would realise that this country knows the value of trees. They are planted along the roads, by the factories and power stations, Oranges, willows, larches, Chinese pines, cherries, almonds and a thousand I know not what they are. They grow over broad beans and peas and lush oriental grasses. They are bonsai ed and trained in the public parks and planted on rocky islets in fishponds which is only a mirror, a smaller version of, as we were to see, the natural landscape of gorges, forested mountains and rivers.
Pingle old Town was theme park China. Willow pattern plates of my childhood mealtimes come to life. All wooden houses, pointy roofs, hanging lanterns and candles floating down the river after dark. I loved it. We found a little old guesthouse run by a smiling old couple and went out for the most god-awful meal I have ever eaten. Chicken seeped, steeped, marinated and cooked in a spice that not only tastes awful but makes your whole mouth go numb.(why the Chinese have a problem pronouncing L's)? I have since been struggling to avoid it.
The thing is, although we have some lists of stuff written in Chinese to show people, really we just look hungry and eat what we are given. Often it is great and always good value.
Once again we had inadequate maps where most of the roads are not shown so asking directions was not easy. We were working mainly by compass, probably the best method of the true cycle-tramp. Another brown sign said Langou Bamboo for rest and the narrow road was again heading generally west so we paid a meagre entrance fee and felt we were being good tourists by seeing another 'Sehenswurdikeit', having been a bit lazy on the sightseeing front in both Kathmandu and Chengdu. If not all the cities we have passed through.
The Bamboo forest was astounding. Not a planted few acres of show specimens as I have seen in Europe but whole mountain ranges of tree high varieties. The natural landscape of the region and habitat of, yep, the old Giant Panda.
We wound our way alone up through this bright green jungle, hoping the road would not end before the final mountain ridge. Getting off to push for the first time since Turkey we finally reached the Fish Cliff Pass where the Red army famously held off the evil forces of Imperialism. Before us we could see a bamboo and vegetable valley stretching of into the green tinged haze. Black tiled roofs with turned up ends sat on top of tree clad hills which lay isolated in a see of spinach, yellow rape and broad bean. Skidding down a steep little track into this paradise made me realise that this is what this trip is all about. Not the great achievement of heroically riding to Australia solely by pedal-power but just being out and about in the world on a bicycle. For moments like this, of which we have had so many, where it just feels damn good to be alive. Often it is just brewing coffee in the early morning bird-song or seeing something you never knew could exist or marvelling at the natural beauty of the planet we live on. We have seen so much along the way, of how man can make a mess of the world (although Anja looks on the bright side with her motto 'pollution can be pretty'), it was enlightening to see an environment where agriculture and wilderness looked in harmony. This landscape seemed to fulfill all tree-hugging eco-hippy adjectives. I don't know what the Giant Panda's problem is. I think it must be fussy.
So we bumbled about on the quiet paths and roads of this landscape which became increasingly mountainous until we were riding over high ridges and plunging through deep cut gorges and visiting Buddhist temples set in cherry and almond gardens until we were finally spat out into the real world once again. Namely the city of Ya'an and the start of the Sichuan-Tibet highway, the road to Lhasa and beyond. We would follow it some 650km to Litang then cut south to Yunnan and into Laos. It all looks straight forward on a large scale map but we knew the road rose up to the Tibetan plateau, a title that could delude one into thinking that once up it is flat. We would have to cross many passes well over 4000m. At least the road surface started out pretty good.
It began busy, too many trucks but as there is pretty much only one road heading west I figured with each town we passed the traffic would thin out. It did pretty fast though a number of trucks and land cruisers remained. We stayed in a town whose name we never knew in the 'Business Hotel' a communist architectural monstrosity for some reason painted pastel yellow and blue. It looked both bad and expensive but what the hell, it was getting dark and raining and as yet no camp spots were available. An archway under the building between a hairdressers and a supermarket led to a surprise, another Chinese garden and the back of the hotel which, in stark contrast to the front was traditional, smart and looked way out of our price range. 10 Euros saw us into the poshest hotel room we had seen and with breakfast thrown in. Gallons of hot water (all hydro-electric so don't worry) and a big TV with an English language news channel. We could hardly believe it. Hotels in China are good value. Things must have changed here recently because I was led to believe it was hard to find accommodation. OK. its not always easy to know what a guest-house looks like not being able to read a damn thing but once located they are clean and cheap. Hows 5 Euros for bed dinner and breakfast?
I was also told the Chinese are a hard generally unfriendly bunch. Not in Sichuan, (no-one has gone "hey look funny round-eyes" and stretched with finger and thumb their eye-lids top and bottom. Not yet anyway Ricky!). People are willing to be helpful, are friendly and polite. They wave or give us the thumbs up from their car windows. As I was sweating up a long hill a teenage girl leaned out of a passing car, took a photo of me and shouted 'you're so cool'. Understandably, I like it here.
The reason I am rambling on so is that Anja has a bad headache and needs a day to acclimatise and I have little to do. We are ostensibly in Tibet. Culturally and geographically if not in the political 'autonomous zone'. Its all Yaks and prayer flags again and a bit like Scotland with different houses and darker people. We camped in some beautiful spots in the narrow valleys on the way up. Good to be in the tent again. The bamboo turned again to flowering rhododendron and the most wonderful mixed forest (I'm going on about the trees again) with the odd flame of a magnolia burning alone high up on a crag. On the second great hill, 70 odd km going up! we met with a group of Chinese cyclists. All in their early twenties and had got together over the Internet and were cycling to Lhasa. It seems this is China's great cycling road and many groups were underway, some riding the 4000km from Beijing. They all have flash mountain bikes and widely differing levels of fitness. The team we met had a super fit man who seemed to be made of elastic and a girl who had never really cycled before. She was great fun and spoke good English, would laugh at her slowness and would always arrive hanging onto a truck or having charmed her way into the back of a pick-up. I was impressed by the lack of macho-ness in these young people, they were out to have fun and help each other along.
The first big pass was no real problem. 4295m, but it seemed our walking in Tibet had got us a bit used to the heights. I just found I was going real slow. I could see the hill was not steep but just could not pick up my pace any. Anja seemed unaffected and the difference in our speeds was narrowed down to almost nothing as we reached the top. We had (sadly) left behind the last of the trees and were up in the snow again. The views were fantastic but the landscape ahead looked a little barren and foreboding. Still, finding a spot for the tent should be easier. Tomorrow comes the second pass. We are not covering much ground in a day and I only hope we make it to Laos before our visas run out!
One hears a lot about China's controversial dam building projects. We have followed a number of river valleys from small to medium sized and seen a lot of hydro projects. Often they are one after the other silently and cleanly pumping current into the grid. I don't see the problem. Yes the eco-system of the river is buggered up but the problems are localised and when mans time on earth is up the dams will break and the fish will return.(if there are any left). We are all helping in China's rapid economic development by buying all the cheap plastic un-necessities that it produces, surely hydro-electric is a better solution to its hunger for power than coal or as we are once more reminded; the nuclear option. China, I suspect, has no interest in petty restrictions in emissions and 'environmental' targets set by self interested democratic pseudo-politicians in the west. Particularly when they have no intention of following them themselves. It has 1.3 billion people to look after. I am going to go out on a limb here and predict that while all our wonderful democratic leaders and their cronies are bickering and worrying about re-election and keeping in with the lobbyists pending retirement, China will get dirtier but re-emerge in 20 years as a nation with some functioning and effective solutions to the great environmental problems. Democracy is of course the best political system there is and though it can prevent great mistakes being made it can also hinder great advances. It seems that here that when the government decides to do something they get on and do it and damn quick. Great if you decide to do the right thing. Lets hope.
There is an image I will not forget: as we were passing through a 20km section of valley to be flooded, a house was being attacked from two sides by diggers and an old man was poking the rubble of his ruined home with his walnut walking stick. Whole villages and communities were being destroyed and the old fella will probably be packed off to a high rise on the edge of Kangding. Sad. But China has no time for the whims of a few communities, the nation needs power. The greater good is more important and today I tend to agree. Tomorrow I may not. I just hope they give him a new vegetable plot.
Ok. enough moralising and speculating. Its snowing outside and another army convoy is grinding past taking troops and supplies to and from the military posts strung along the road. The people here are Tibetan (Qiang) and we are told recently there have been protests against central control. Understandable as they are a different race to the Han, live in a different climate, speak a different language and eat different food. More importantly, they wear different hats. There is also the Tibetan Buddhism thing to consider. They all look pretty wild. Mountain men and women. Its always a pleasure when a real fierce looking character waves and smiles from the saddle of a horse or motorbike. I wonder whether all Tibetans wish for the return of the Dalai Lama or, a couple of generations since the occupation the young folks see some benefits being part of a developing China. Its a long way from almost anywhere in Tibet to Lhasa and I bet most Tibetans have never been there. They all seem attached to their traditions though. There is a lot of building going on in this village and all in the traditional style; stone walls tapering towards the third floor where a quarter of the flat roof is missing creating a corner 'terrace' up high. These houses look real solid and are big with numerous highly decorated windows. Quite impressive and unique. In fact, apart from a few villages near the Tibetan border in Nepal, the mud houses on the Terai and a few villages in lowland Sichuan I have not been much impressed by any new-build dwellings since.. since... probably Austria!
Dinner was good last night, rice in a wooden bucket and some fried greens and bacon bits. Tasty. I hope we get the same this evening. We seem to have left behind bland noodle-soup country and entered a land of more palatable fodder. Though Sichuan is the culinary capital of China we didn't seem to eat in the right sort of establishments. We did get a great meal when we ate with the cycle group one night. All sitting round the same table helping yourself to various communal dishes seems to be the prefer ed way of dining here and we benefited with amongst others a great pork fat and sweet rice concoction. Ideal mountain cycling food. They make some great stuffed dumplings as well but I cannot figure out what they are called. Communication is hard. People even count numbers on their fingers differently and want us to write things down as if not being able to speak mandarin is merely a handicap. Still most people are patient and have a sense of humour and where I used to be terrified of not being understood or understanding I now quite enjoy our daily interactions.
Though we are only cutting through the bottom corner of this massive land I must say I like it. Cycling here is a real pleasure. There is always something new to see (off the main roads anyway). Maybe the whole backpacker train-bus deal is not so easy. Going city to city with excursions on a coach, buying tickets and haggling with taxi-drivers, that could be stressful. One is spared all that on a bicycle. The worst we have to deal with are the exhaust fumes of the occasional buses and trucks. Could do with vehicle emission controls here.
It is now the next day, the 22nd April. Exactly 1 year ago we left your front door in Bradninch Ma. I expected that after a year on the road we would be almost if not already in Australia. Instead we are snowed in somewhere in China. A foot of snow fell last night and all the cyclists in town decided it was too dangerous to head up and over the next mountain. I reckon it would have been OK as a few trucks began to roll and clear the road but it is a long way to the next settlement and we would have looked a bit silly if we went against local advice and froze to death before the pass. We'll set off early tomorrow if the weather doesn't worsen.
We all made the best of it, tied plastic bags around our boots and had a snowball war with our new pals. Some of them had never seen snow before. Even the natives are chucking the odd snowball at each other, the town is a slushy mess but quite lively. The hills blend into the white of the sky and the birds are finding it hard to land. They wonder what's happened to spring. They are not the only ones.
We knew not what we would find in Chinas 5th largest city of 15 million people but as we hurtled down uncrowded modern motorways and broad boulevards in an unofficial taxi (he was willing to hang our bikes out the back), we were surprised at the lack of people about. Perhaps we had got used to the mass of bodies in India. The Chinese seemed to have somewhere to be other than on the streets and those that where appeared to have a destination. The traffic flowed easily and most people rode bicycles or electric scooters in the designated, tree lined and separate non combustion lanes. I was impressed and figured most European cities could learn a thing or to from Chengdu. It was very quiet. If rather dull.
Temples, gardens and monasteries were visited then we headed out of town. Well, we tried but lost after about 10km in an area of fly-overs and motorways, realised we could not pronounce anything that anyone could understand so we scuttled back into town and bought a map with names written in Mandarin. After lunch it seemed a bit late to set off so we stayed another night, feeling a bit like failures and realising we had had an easy run with languages up till now. Still, next day we escaped the city without a wrong turn and headed south on the most boring road yet. It was a concrete dual-carriageway, well made and not at all busy but straight and dull with only the odd bleak socialistic tower block town built around a forlorn quadrangle to add any interest. The overcast skies and acid drizzle that stung our eyes didn't lighten our spirits either.
After 80km we saw a brown sign with English subtitles saying turn right for Pingle old Town its only 10km. Right being west and our general direction we figured it was time to get lost on some back roads and maybe see a bit of China. After a hundred meters we realised we had made a good decision. Here we were at last and it was all more Chinese than we could have asked for.
The road wound through undulating hills which were all garden. From the tended shrubs of the roadside verges through the drippy green vegetable patches where not an inch of ground was wasted, to the topiary tea plantations on the slopes. All this was broken up by spinneys and copses and clumps of the most wonderful trees. I figured when in Germany that perhaps the perfect group of trees toward the corner of a field was birch, oak and larch or pine in a ratio of 6.2.1 respectively. I will have to revise this when I find out the names of all these new trees. Over the next few days I would realise that this country knows the value of trees. They are planted along the roads, by the factories and power stations, Oranges, willows, larches, Chinese pines, cherries, almonds and a thousand I know not what they are. They grow over broad beans and peas and lush oriental grasses. They are bonsai ed and trained in the public parks and planted on rocky islets in fishponds which is only a mirror, a smaller version of, as we were to see, the natural landscape of gorges, forested mountains and rivers.
Pingle old Town was theme park China. Willow pattern plates of my childhood mealtimes come to life. All wooden houses, pointy roofs, hanging lanterns and candles floating down the river after dark. I loved it. We found a little old guesthouse run by a smiling old couple and went out for the most god-awful meal I have ever eaten. Chicken seeped, steeped, marinated and cooked in a spice that not only tastes awful but makes your whole mouth go numb.(why the Chinese have a problem pronouncing L's)? I have since been struggling to avoid it.
The thing is, although we have some lists of stuff written in Chinese to show people, really we just look hungry and eat what we are given. Often it is great and always good value.
Once again we had inadequate maps where most of the roads are not shown so asking directions was not easy. We were working mainly by compass, probably the best method of the true cycle-tramp. Another brown sign said Langou Bamboo for rest and the narrow road was again heading generally west so we paid a meagre entrance fee and felt we were being good tourists by seeing another 'Sehenswurdikeit', having been a bit lazy on the sightseeing front in both Kathmandu and Chengdu. If not all the cities we have passed through.
The Bamboo forest was astounding. Not a planted few acres of show specimens as I have seen in Europe but whole mountain ranges of tree high varieties. The natural landscape of the region and habitat of, yep, the old Giant Panda.
We wound our way alone up through this bright green jungle, hoping the road would not end before the final mountain ridge. Getting off to push for the first time since Turkey we finally reached the Fish Cliff Pass where the Red army famously held off the evil forces of Imperialism. Before us we could see a bamboo and vegetable valley stretching of into the green tinged haze. Black tiled roofs with turned up ends sat on top of tree clad hills which lay isolated in a see of spinach, yellow rape and broad bean. Skidding down a steep little track into this paradise made me realise that this is what this trip is all about. Not the great achievement of heroically riding to Australia solely by pedal-power but just being out and about in the world on a bicycle. For moments like this, of which we have had so many, where it just feels damn good to be alive. Often it is just brewing coffee in the early morning bird-song or seeing something you never knew could exist or marvelling at the natural beauty of the planet we live on. We have seen so much along the way, of how man can make a mess of the world (although Anja looks on the bright side with her motto 'pollution can be pretty'), it was enlightening to see an environment where agriculture and wilderness looked in harmony. This landscape seemed to fulfill all tree-hugging eco-hippy adjectives. I don't know what the Giant Panda's problem is. I think it must be fussy.
So we bumbled about on the quiet paths and roads of this landscape which became increasingly mountainous until we were riding over high ridges and plunging through deep cut gorges and visiting Buddhist temples set in cherry and almond gardens until we were finally spat out into the real world once again. Namely the city of Ya'an and the start of the Sichuan-Tibet highway, the road to Lhasa and beyond. We would follow it some 650km to Litang then cut south to Yunnan and into Laos. It all looks straight forward on a large scale map but we knew the road rose up to the Tibetan plateau, a title that could delude one into thinking that once up it is flat. We would have to cross many passes well over 4000m. At least the road surface started out pretty good.
It began busy, too many trucks but as there is pretty much only one road heading west I figured with each town we passed the traffic would thin out. It did pretty fast though a number of trucks and land cruisers remained. We stayed in a town whose name we never knew in the 'Business Hotel' a communist architectural monstrosity for some reason painted pastel yellow and blue. It looked both bad and expensive but what the hell, it was getting dark and raining and as yet no camp spots were available. An archway under the building between a hairdressers and a supermarket led to a surprise, another Chinese garden and the back of the hotel which, in stark contrast to the front was traditional, smart and looked way out of our price range. 10 Euros saw us into the poshest hotel room we had seen and with breakfast thrown in. Gallons of hot water (all hydro-electric so don't worry) and a big TV with an English language news channel. We could hardly believe it. Hotels in China are good value. Things must have changed here recently because I was led to believe it was hard to find accommodation. OK. its not always easy to know what a guest-house looks like not being able to read a damn thing but once located they are clean and cheap. Hows 5 Euros for bed dinner and breakfast?
I was also told the Chinese are a hard generally unfriendly bunch. Not in Sichuan, (no-one has gone "hey look funny round-eyes" and stretched with finger and thumb their eye-lids top and bottom. Not yet anyway Ricky!). People are willing to be helpful, are friendly and polite. They wave or give us the thumbs up from their car windows. As I was sweating up a long hill a teenage girl leaned out of a passing car, took a photo of me and shouted 'you're so cool'. Understandably, I like it here.
The reason I am rambling on so is that Anja has a bad headache and needs a day to acclimatise and I have little to do. We are ostensibly in Tibet. Culturally and geographically if not in the political 'autonomous zone'. Its all Yaks and prayer flags again and a bit like Scotland with different houses and darker people. We camped in some beautiful spots in the narrow valleys on the way up. Good to be in the tent again. The bamboo turned again to flowering rhododendron and the most wonderful mixed forest (I'm going on about the trees again) with the odd flame of a magnolia burning alone high up on a crag. On the second great hill, 70 odd km going up! we met with a group of Chinese cyclists. All in their early twenties and had got together over the Internet and were cycling to Lhasa. It seems this is China's great cycling road and many groups were underway, some riding the 4000km from Beijing. They all have flash mountain bikes and widely differing levels of fitness. The team we met had a super fit man who seemed to be made of elastic and a girl who had never really cycled before. She was great fun and spoke good English, would laugh at her slowness and would always arrive hanging onto a truck or having charmed her way into the back of a pick-up. I was impressed by the lack of macho-ness in these young people, they were out to have fun and help each other along.
The first big pass was no real problem. 4295m, but it seemed our walking in Tibet had got us a bit used to the heights. I just found I was going real slow. I could see the hill was not steep but just could not pick up my pace any. Anja seemed unaffected and the difference in our speeds was narrowed down to almost nothing as we reached the top. We had (sadly) left behind the last of the trees and were up in the snow again. The views were fantastic but the landscape ahead looked a little barren and foreboding. Still, finding a spot for the tent should be easier. Tomorrow comes the second pass. We are not covering much ground in a day and I only hope we make it to Laos before our visas run out!
One hears a lot about China's controversial dam building projects. We have followed a number of river valleys from small to medium sized and seen a lot of hydro projects. Often they are one after the other silently and cleanly pumping current into the grid. I don't see the problem. Yes the eco-system of the river is buggered up but the problems are localised and when mans time on earth is up the dams will break and the fish will return.(if there are any left). We are all helping in China's rapid economic development by buying all the cheap plastic un-necessities that it produces, surely hydro-electric is a better solution to its hunger for power than coal or as we are once more reminded; the nuclear option. China, I suspect, has no interest in petty restrictions in emissions and 'environmental' targets set by self interested democratic pseudo-politicians in the west. Particularly when they have no intention of following them themselves. It has 1.3 billion people to look after. I am going to go out on a limb here and predict that while all our wonderful democratic leaders and their cronies are bickering and worrying about re-election and keeping in with the lobbyists pending retirement, China will get dirtier but re-emerge in 20 years as a nation with some functioning and effective solutions to the great environmental problems. Democracy is of course the best political system there is and though it can prevent great mistakes being made it can also hinder great advances. It seems that here that when the government decides to do something they get on and do it and damn quick. Great if you decide to do the right thing. Lets hope.
There is an image I will not forget: as we were passing through a 20km section of valley to be flooded, a house was being attacked from two sides by diggers and an old man was poking the rubble of his ruined home with his walnut walking stick. Whole villages and communities were being destroyed and the old fella will probably be packed off to a high rise on the edge of Kangding. Sad. But China has no time for the whims of a few communities, the nation needs power. The greater good is more important and today I tend to agree. Tomorrow I may not. I just hope they give him a new vegetable plot.
Ok. enough moralising and speculating. Its snowing outside and another army convoy is grinding past taking troops and supplies to and from the military posts strung along the road. The people here are Tibetan (Qiang) and we are told recently there have been protests against central control. Understandable as they are a different race to the Han, live in a different climate, speak a different language and eat different food. More importantly, they wear different hats. There is also the Tibetan Buddhism thing to consider. They all look pretty wild. Mountain men and women. Its always a pleasure when a real fierce looking character waves and smiles from the saddle of a horse or motorbike. I wonder whether all Tibetans wish for the return of the Dalai Lama or, a couple of generations since the occupation the young folks see some benefits being part of a developing China. Its a long way from almost anywhere in Tibet to Lhasa and I bet most Tibetans have never been there. They all seem attached to their traditions though. There is a lot of building going on in this village and all in the traditional style; stone walls tapering towards the third floor where a quarter of the flat roof is missing creating a corner 'terrace' up high. These houses look real solid and are big with numerous highly decorated windows. Quite impressive and unique. In fact, apart from a few villages near the Tibetan border in Nepal, the mud houses on the Terai and a few villages in lowland Sichuan I have not been much impressed by any new-build dwellings since.. since... probably Austria!
Dinner was good last night, rice in a wooden bucket and some fried greens and bacon bits. Tasty. I hope we get the same this evening. We seem to have left behind bland noodle-soup country and entered a land of more palatable fodder. Though Sichuan is the culinary capital of China we didn't seem to eat in the right sort of establishments. We did get a great meal when we ate with the cycle group one night. All sitting round the same table helping yourself to various communal dishes seems to be the prefer ed way of dining here and we benefited with amongst others a great pork fat and sweet rice concoction. Ideal mountain cycling food. They make some great stuffed dumplings as well but I cannot figure out what they are called. Communication is hard. People even count numbers on their fingers differently and want us to write things down as if not being able to speak mandarin is merely a handicap. Still most people are patient and have a sense of humour and where I used to be terrified of not being understood or understanding I now quite enjoy our daily interactions.
Though we are only cutting through the bottom corner of this massive land I must say I like it. Cycling here is a real pleasure. There is always something new to see (off the main roads anyway). Maybe the whole backpacker train-bus deal is not so easy. Going city to city with excursions on a coach, buying tickets and haggling with taxi-drivers, that could be stressful. One is spared all that on a bicycle. The worst we have to deal with are the exhaust fumes of the occasional buses and trucks. Could do with vehicle emission controls here.It is now the next day, the 22nd April. Exactly 1 year ago we left your front door in Bradninch Ma. I expected that after a year on the road we would be almost if not already in Australia. Instead we are snowed in somewhere in China. A foot of snow fell last night and all the cyclists in town decided it was too dangerous to head up and over the next mountain. I reckon it would have been OK as a few trucks began to roll and clear the road but it is a long way to the next settlement and we would have looked a bit silly if we went against local advice and froze to death before the pass. We'll set off early tomorrow if the weather doesn't worsen.
We all made the best of it, tied plastic bags around our boots and had a snowball war with our new pals. Some of them had never seen snow before. Even the natives are chucking the odd snowball at each other, the town is a slushy mess but quite lively. The hills blend into the white of the sky and the birds are finding it hard to land. They wonder what's happened to spring. They are not the only ones.
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