This is John, Richard’s Dad, posting this blog update
on Richard’s behalf. The ‘big red gang up top’ have got really good at controlling
1.5 billion residents, and it seems one homeless Brit on a bike is not going to
outsmart them – no VPN, no chance of him posting a blog – so here it is –
enjoy!!
2nd of October 2019, Day 50 - 2,360ish km
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| Day 46 - A monument outside of Xi'an to the start of the silk road |
In preparation for this trip, I read a few different blogs of people cycling
through China. One thing that seemed to bog down all of their journeys was
continually moaning about how difficult it is to get cheap hotels here. I vowed
not to do the same, or at least not continually bring it up in my writing. You
know when coming to China that things aren't so easy as a foreigner. The big
red gang up top like to keep tabs on everyone, and we don't fit easily into
that system, especially when we leave the big cities. It's all part of the
adventure.
Unfortunately though, I can now see why it happens. The most intense and challenging part of every day is stopping and finding somewhere that can let me stay. I will, like countless others, inevitably fall into the trap of spending most of this post talking about it again. Sorry in advance.
China is made up of a bunch of different provinces. The central government has lots of rules to say the least, but much like the states in the US, each province carries them out in a different way. The over-arching rule is that foreigners have to be officially registered each night at the hotels they stay in. The details though are left to the local provincial police force, which is where the whole thing gets muddied.
Unfortunately though, I can now see why it happens. The most intense and challenging part of every day is stopping and finding somewhere that can let me stay. I will, like countless others, inevitably fall into the trap of spending most of this post talking about it again. Sorry in advance.
China is made up of a bunch of different provinces. The central government has lots of rules to say the least, but much like the states in the US, each province carries them out in a different way. The over-arching rule is that foreigners have to be officially registered each night at the hotels they stay in. The details though are left to the local provincial police force, which is where the whole thing gets muddied.
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| Day 36 - A guy on a flashy bike blaring Chinese electro music insisted on riding into Yima with me. He kept ringing up his mates, so by the time I arrived I had a cohort of 5 cyclist guide me to the hotel. |
I started this leg of the journey in Henan Province (pronounced like "Her nan"). It is a terrible place and you should never go there. If I was to go back and do this whole thing again, I would jump on the train and skip the province entirely. Which would have been a shame, because I met so many lovely people there.
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| Day 34 - Some friendly train-track repair men that gave me a bottle of water |
The road that runs all the way through Henan to Xi'an (She Ann) is the
G310. I don't think I have ever been on one road for so long. About 560 km over
10 days. I expected it to be very beautiful, but unfortunately they decided to
fill all the valleys in Henan with factories, and large portions of the road
are closed for construction, making me take detours down dirt paths and bumpy
torn up side roads.
I got up early on Day 37 with the intention of getting over the mountains, but
unfortunately it was raining. I felt good though, so decided to make the climb
to Sanmenxia (San men she a) - 74km, mostly uphill. The big 12-wheel red
trucks charged on past me, spraying muddy water everywhere. I'm muddy. The bike
is muddy. Everything is muddy. We hit the ascent and even the trucks are
struggling, crawling up the mountain not much faster than me. It's a rough
ride, but with a few well-timed chocolate biscuits I manage to power on over
the peak and glide down into the valley to Sanmenxia.
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| Day 38 - Drying my clothes over lunch |
Time for the "Find a Room" game, this time covered in mud. Hotel 1, no foreigners. Hotel 2, everything seemed fine, to the point that I'd even taken my bags off the bike and moved them to the room. That is until they realised I didn't have a Chinese ID card. Sorry, we can't put you in the system. They call the police to see what they can do. Which is apparently… nothing. In Sanmenxia, you have to stay in 4-star or more hotels. Sounds bloody expensive. I decide stuff Sanmenxia, re-load the bike, and set out into the rain for 20 more kilometers to the next town.
Hotel 3, there doesn't seem to be a problem. I shuffle up to the room, feeling very smug about dodging their stupid rule and managing more than 90km in one day. I've outsmarted you again China!
At about 8pm I'm settling in for the night, surrounded by various different junk foods, watching one of the old Shaolin Kung Fu movies. The hotels all have some free movies to stream, but of course they are in Chinese with no subtitles. I've been going for stuff that's pretty straight forward. Bad beats up the hero. Hero trains with a mysterious master for 3/4ths of the film. Hero goes back and defeats the bad guy. A formula that will never go out of fashion in the East.
Anyway, that's when the owner of Hotel 3 shows up to tell me I can't stay. He's extremely apologetic about the whole thing, very kindly offering to let me leave all my stuff in the room and drive me to the 4-star hotel. I very unkindly blow my top and start angrily ranting at him.
Being angry is very hard to do when you have to use a voice to translation app. You yell something, then have to wait quietly while it figures out what you said. Eventually, a lovely female computerized voice tells them in calm Chinese that "This is a bloody outrage, its 8pm at night. I'm already in bed." I never did see the rest of that Kung Fu movie, but I assume the hero trained with a mysterious master, then went back and defeated the bad guy.
In the end I accepted the owner of Hotel 3's offer, and thoroughly defeated, paid for a 4-star hotel. I then grumpily got the best night's sleep of the trip on a bed that felt like floating on a cloud. He even picked me up in the morning and took me out for breakfast. Lovely guy. Has a cousin who married a British girl and lives in London.
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| Day 38 - Breakfast with the lovely hotel owner |
Day 38, the sun comes out to clear the morning smog, and with it goes my aggravation from the night before. It is so much easier to ride in sunshine. I make it to my predicted stop point at Ling Bao around 2, but fancied a little more. There was a small town 20km off the G310 that I'd seen on the map, all uphill, but it was a beautiful day so I figured, why not? Got over the hill and it's amazing. A real Chinese town, not a big super city of sky scrapers or a mini-farming-village. I've finally made it. The main street is lined with shops that spill out onto the road, as if each morning they chuck everything out onto the street, then dump it back inside at night. Outside the school gate, hundreds of parents are gathered to walk their golden child home, after buying them a tasty meat bun from the street vendors hovering behind them.
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| Day 38 - The beautiful hotel that never was |
I quickly found an amazing place, 20 yuan for the night. Basically theft. The
owner is a tall old bald guy with great big bushy eyebrows. He constantly
carries two big uncracked walnuts in his hand, which he revolves in circles in
his palm, until both become smooth. The original Baoding balls. He seems
slightly unsure what to do with my passport, but reassures me I can stay. There
is no shower, so he leads me through the streets to a public bath. He knows and
greets everyone. I feel like everyone knows everyone here. During my bath,
there is a scene change. All the shops have moved back inside to be replaced by
plastic tables and chairs from the restaurants. Dinner time. I have a plate of
dumplings so good that I go back and get another. Everyone who sees me is
having their mind blown that I'm there, but I'm in such a good mood that I just
smile and wave and continue chowing down on delicious dumplings.
8pm. Seems like that's the time when people get kicked out of hotels in China. I'm back in the room writing my diary, when 6 people burst into my room: two in police uniform, an officer in plainclothes, and three random guys who have just come to watch. My first ever Police Party. The lead officer starts off rather threateningly, and one of the guys very deliberately turns on his chest cam as if to say don't start anything. I'm so nervous I almost put my hands up, but realise quickly that they aren't going to arrest me. I haven't done anything illegal. I just can't stay here, and they don't know what to do with me. Bushy eyebrows though - he might be in a bit of trouble. In the end they force me to load everything, bike and all, into a police van, then take me to a 4 star hotel. 20km in the wrong direction. Back down the mountain road I'd toiled up that afternoon. Right back to Ling Bao. Great!!
8pm. Seems like that's the time when people get kicked out of hotels in China. I'm back in the room writing my diary, when 6 people burst into my room: two in police uniform, an officer in plainclothes, and three random guys who have just come to watch. My first ever Police Party. The lead officer starts off rather threateningly, and one of the guys very deliberately turns on his chest cam as if to say don't start anything. I'm so nervous I almost put my hands up, but realise quickly that they aren't going to arrest me. I haven't done anything illegal. I just can't stay here, and they don't know what to do with me. Bushy eyebrows though - he might be in a bit of trouble. In the end they force me to load everything, bike and all, into a police van, then take me to a 4 star hotel. 20km in the wrong direction. Back down the mountain road I'd toiled up that afternoon. Right back to Ling Bao. Great!!
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| Day 38 - The bell boy unloading my bike from the police van |
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| Day 39 - Police mates |
Now 280 yuan sounds like a lot. And it is a lot here in China. The value of
money is relative to purchasing power in that country. You can buy over 100
days worth of breakfast with 280 yuan. Or 70 cans of beer. It's about three
times what I usually pay for a hotel.
And it's not just the price. There is a certain injustice to it. The rule seems to me to have been put in place purely so Henan province can skim an extra little money from foreign tourists. I'm sure there's some complex bureaucratic explanation for it, but the end result is me not particularly feeling welcome here.
Then of course I am trying to keep to the cheapest budget I can. This trip lasts for 300 days, the end of which will be through Europe with European prices. I knew when I started that I probably wouldn't have enough money for this whole trip and would have to rely on my parents help to get to the finish line. But I like being independent and wanted to get as far as I could on my own steam. With these prices, my steam is more like a puff of hot air.
I say all of this because for those of you that have done the math, 280 yuan is basically 30 quid that I'm complaining about. Which my father reminded me is much cheaper than the cheapest places I'd find in the UK. There’s no need to get so worked up about it. I can spend the whole trip worrying about money, or just accept it as part of the adventure. I mean really, all that's happening is I'm being forced to sleep in lovely luxury hotels. Woe is me.
Strolling in Shaanxi
By day 40, I had crossed the border to Shaanxi (Sha an she) province. I love Shaanxi deeply. The earth here is yellow and crumbly, an ancient flood plain cut into terraces for farming, with beautiful deep valleys carved out by the slow muddy rivers lazily sloshing through. The factories are gone and replaced with gigantic mountains that tower over everything in the distance. I am yet to be turned away by a single hotel, and it hasn't rained once. I've had a few more police parties in my room, but they've just had me fill in some paperwork and let me be.
And it's not just the price. There is a certain injustice to it. The rule seems to me to have been put in place purely so Henan province can skim an extra little money from foreign tourists. I'm sure there's some complex bureaucratic explanation for it, but the end result is me not particularly feeling welcome here.
Then of course I am trying to keep to the cheapest budget I can. This trip lasts for 300 days, the end of which will be through Europe with European prices. I knew when I started that I probably wouldn't have enough money for this whole trip and would have to rely on my parents help to get to the finish line. But I like being independent and wanted to get as far as I could on my own steam. With these prices, my steam is more like a puff of hot air.
I say all of this because for those of you that have done the math, 280 yuan is basically 30 quid that I'm complaining about. Which my father reminded me is much cheaper than the cheapest places I'd find in the UK. There’s no need to get so worked up about it. I can spend the whole trip worrying about money, or just accept it as part of the adventure. I mean really, all that's happening is I'm being forced to sleep in lovely luxury hotels. Woe is me.
Strolling in Shaanxi
By day 40, I had crossed the border to Shaanxi (Sha an she) province. I love Shaanxi deeply. The earth here is yellow and crumbly, an ancient flood plain cut into terraces for farming, with beautiful deep valleys carved out by the slow muddy rivers lazily sloshing through. The factories are gone and replaced with gigantic mountains that tower over everything in the distance. I am yet to be turned away by a single hotel, and it hasn't rained once. I've had a few more police parties in my room, but they've just had me fill in some paperwork and let me be.
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| Day 40 - Finally into some stunning scenery |
First stop was Hua Shan Town. The hostel there had the most adorable golden
retriever. She reminded me of our dog Fudge: loved to have her belly rubbed and
ignored whatever people were telling her to do unless it involved food.
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| Day 41 - Group shot with May the dog and the hotel owner |
I stayed there an extra day to hike up the mountain. Most people take the cable
car up, but at 140 yuan, I figured it was worth stretching my legs for it.
Instantly I realised this was a steep mountain to climb. There are steps all
the way up, but they are hardly large enough to get half your foot on them, and
at times with the angle of the incline you are going up on all fours. Along the
sides there are chain handrails you use to pull yourself up. Many people bring
up locks with messages engraved into them, which they fasten to the chains,
leaving a memento of their trip behind on the mountain.
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| Day 41 - Locks and red ribbons, now a permanent addition to the breathtaking mountain scenery |
About 30 minutes in, I ran into a Chinese guy with a great big hiking pack on
his back called Yao. He had just graduated from Uni and had decided to walk
alone all the way from Beijing to the 5 mountains of China. Hua Shan was number
4. He had a flag on his back with some special phrase on the back. 侠义天下 -
Chivalrous Land under Heaven. Turns out after doing some bing-ing* later that
it's from some video game. So he’s a giant nerd.
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| Day 41 - Yao showing off his flag |
(*Bing is so unpopular that this isn't even a phrase, and I'm starting to see
why. It is a truly terrible search engine, which I am forced to use because Google
is blocked.)
I ended up spending the rest of the day with him, struggling up to the north peak, then hiking round to the east, south, and west. We walked a long way together, and spoke about everything we could with our rudimentary Chinese and English. Our futures, our past, our first loves. Thankfully his English was better than my Chinese. We were both on a solo trip, and his experiences were similar to mine. Everyone would stop him to ask about his sign, and he'd be constantly explaining himself, just like me.
I ended up spending the rest of the day with him, struggling up to the north peak, then hiking round to the east, south, and west. We walked a long way together, and spoke about everything we could with our rudimentary Chinese and English. Our futures, our past, our first loves. Thankfully his English was better than my Chinese. We were both on a solo trip, and his experiences were similar to mine. Everyone would stop him to ask about his sign, and he'd be constantly explaining himself, just like me.
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| Day 41 - The view from the top of the world |
The view was out of this world, sheer cliff faces, and curving rock formations
with little mini forests balanced on top. Most of you know that I am terrified
of heights. I blame it on being short for most of my childhood. The north peak
has the fewest people on it, and its walkways are the most precariously
balanced, so it was a real challenge. Yao doesn't like heights either, but
approaches it differently. He kept stopping to soak up that vertigo feeling,
rather than hide from it. He hardly took any pictures, but said he tries very
hard to remember that feeling. Then we hiked back down. By the time I got to
the bottom, my thighs and calves were on fire. Clearly walking up almost
vertical stairs uses different muscles to biking.
Xylophones in Xi'an
On day 43, one month after coming to China, I made it to Xi'an. I should have been feeling triumphant, as it was my first big milestone. The minimum I had wanted to get to before leaving China, and I'd done it faster than I thought I would. However, fatigue was setting in. The hiking had left me with shooting pain up my legs any time I put my foot down to stop. I really should have rested an extra day in Hua Shan. The speed of the traffic in the city was too fast for me. A guy turned across the road late through a red light and appeared out of nowhere in front of me. I couldn't stop, so tried to go left behind him, but there was a tri-motorcycle cart there. I bumped into him and slowly dropped to the floor with my bike. Got up and apologised to the motorcycle driver, before swearing profusely at the guy who turned in front of me, then pulled over to the side to lick my wounds. Mainly to my ego.
Legs throbbing, I arrived at my hostel and hobbled across the street to get dinner. Ended up chatting with a group of Chinese guys who insisted I drink some sweet Chinese rice wine. Which, unlike the Japanese version, is 52%, and they drink full tumblers of the stuff. So I wish I could say I made the most of my time in Xi'an, but ended up doing absolutely nothing on account of the hangover and not being able to walk with the pain in my legs. Didn't even get around to writing a blog post, which is why I'm doing it now. It felt like a waste, but as my Father reminded me, everyone needs those types of days once in a while to unwind. He’s full of useful advice recently.
Since then I've had a string of extremely fortunate experiences that I put down to being in Shaanxi, and finally leaving the G310. The G312 is my new bae now. We'll be together all the way to Lanzhou.
Xylophones in Xi'an
On day 43, one month after coming to China, I made it to Xi'an. I should have been feeling triumphant, as it was my first big milestone. The minimum I had wanted to get to before leaving China, and I'd done it faster than I thought I would. However, fatigue was setting in. The hiking had left me with shooting pain up my legs any time I put my foot down to stop. I really should have rested an extra day in Hua Shan. The speed of the traffic in the city was too fast for me. A guy turned across the road late through a red light and appeared out of nowhere in front of me. I couldn't stop, so tried to go left behind him, but there was a tri-motorcycle cart there. I bumped into him and slowly dropped to the floor with my bike. Got up and apologised to the motorcycle driver, before swearing profusely at the guy who turned in front of me, then pulled over to the side to lick my wounds. Mainly to my ego.
Legs throbbing, I arrived at my hostel and hobbled across the street to get dinner. Ended up chatting with a group of Chinese guys who insisted I drink some sweet Chinese rice wine. Which, unlike the Japanese version, is 52%, and they drink full tumblers of the stuff. So I wish I could say I made the most of my time in Xi'an, but ended up doing absolutely nothing on account of the hangover and not being able to walk with the pain in my legs. Didn't even get around to writing a blog post, which is why I'm doing it now. It felt like a waste, but as my Father reminded me, everyone needs those types of days once in a while to unwind. He’s full of useful advice recently.
Since then I've had a string of extremely fortunate experiences that I put down to being in Shaanxi, and finally leaving the G310. The G312 is my new bae now. We'll be together all the way to Lanzhou.
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| Day 41 - Had to get a selfie with the mountains |
Day 46, I ran into a young guy with great English who was on a road bike. He
took me to get my bike fixed (the emergency chain I had put on was the wrong
size for my bike.) and we went to eat hotpot for lunch with his friends.
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| Day 46 - Led me to a bike shop for much needed repairs |
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| Day 46 - The local biking crew inspecting my set up |
Day 47, I entered a beautiful area with pink rosy apple orchards lining the
road. A guy caught me sneakily taking a photo of him picking apples. He smiled
and started handing me as many apples as I could carry. I have to say, fresh
apples right off the tree may just be the most delicious apples in the world.
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| Day 47 - Free apples |
Day 48, I stopped at Zhang Wu. Someone treated me to dinner, and the lovely old
couple who owned the hotel wouldn't charge me after hearing about the trip. I
spent a grand total of 1.5 yuan the whole time I was there on a delicious
breakfast in the morning: fried bread with a meat sauce spread in the middle.
These are the good bits of the adventure, the bits that make it all worthwhile. From now on I'll try to focus on this sort of thing, rather than moaning endlessly about how terrible it is being given free lifts to fancy hotels.
These are the good bits of the adventure, the bits that make it all worthwhile. From now on I'll try to focus on this sort of thing, rather than moaning endlessly about how terrible it is being given free lifts to fancy hotels.
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| Day 36 - The local butcher invited me in for a cup of tea |
Public Transportation in Ping Liang
But I just want to get a last one in. Unfortunately, yesterday it was time for me to say goodbye to beautiful Shaanxi, crossing the border to the next province of Gansu. I made it to a small town with a hotel to spend the night, but the police came round and instantly kicked me out. No free lift, they just chucked me on a public bus to Ping Liang. At least this time it was in the right direction, and I saved a day of travel, guilt free. I've accepted it. It's all just part of the adventure.
