Bike Tracks

Guilin to Longsheng

Day 296

After a rainy day off and a miserable rainy riding day the day before, I was not thrilled at the aspect of riding yet another day in the rain. I took a poll of a few folks and determined I could fill a bus with people who agreed with me. So that is what I did. Actually, I ended up filling two buses with riders and hiring a very large truck to take us to the next location. Cool, now I’m into group transportation!

The story of how I managed to get this done is fairly interesting. TK&A has several Chinese guys, helping with the language and securing transportation and lodging for us as we go through the country. I went up to one of them, Marco is his name and asked if I could get a bus and a truck. He wanted to know “how many people”. At the time, I didn’t know how many people, so I asked him, “how big is a bus, I will fill it.” He told me 30 seats.

Dealing with Marco was interesting because first of all he is maybe, 4 feet tall. I’m 5″6′ and I can sit down on a chair and look Marco right in the eyes as he stands. When I’m sitting he likes to come up to me and make like he is bending down to look at me. He is so funny. I know in his society he is probably a high roller. He always has something going on and I know he is getting cuts from everything.

In Yangshou, before I was dealing with him, he came up to dinner one night with his wife. He started telling me that his wife had taken up embroidery and was making these cute little handbags. Well the handbags were no more made by his wife than by my dead Grandmother. They were the handbags that the vendors sold to the tourists all over Southeast Asia.

I chuckled to myself when I caught a glimpse of his wife chewing him out after he said that. I could tell she was in business to sell them and didn’t want to have the “stigma” of being the laborer that made them. She was obviously a modern woman.

So when it came time to deal with Marco, I knew I had to watch him. He was out to get me or anyone he could. In China it is considered OK to take advantage of tourists, actually it is a patriotic duty. So I got ready for it by asking Shelli Rose to help me with Marco. Between the two of us, we could keep him in tow.

It didn’t take long to sell out bus number one, then add on bus number two. In the meantime, Marco, Shelli and I went into negotiations for price. He wanted $10 (U.S.) per person. Knowing that we could all take public transportation for less than a buck, we refused to pay that much. He immediately came down to 60 yuan, which is about $8. After haggling some more we settled on 50 yuan for the day. It was still very high, but compared to the rest of the world it was a mere $6, bargain for us and besides we wouldn’t have to sit on a public bus with the smokers! We had a deal.

First thing in the morning I went out to preview our buses and truck. The buses looked great, but the truck was small for 52 bikes. We decided to try and load it, but ended up short of space for 6 bikes and a tandem. Thinking after last night’s meeting, Tim might be willing to help us out by transporting the bikes, I asked if we could stick them in a TK&A van. Even though TK&A had a huge truck that was 80% empty. Tim Kneeland refused to take them unless we paid him $10 per bike. Yes, times are tough at TK&A and customer service is non existent as usual.

I went to Marco and told him he had agreed to take the bikes in this truck when it was only one bus, now it is two buses and we need a bigger truck. It was his responsibility to get us a truck big enough for all the bikes. Marco turned to his compatriots, all sitting around the hotel and after a long conversation with them, came back and told me he would have another truck here in 10 minutes.

It was at least an hour later when a huge truck with the words, “China Post” on it arrived. It was then I realized I was making deals with guys who were probably the Chinese mafia. The China Post is the post office not a newspaper!

It was a “good news, bad news” thing. The good news being we could probably get anything we want, as long as we had the money to pay for it. The bad news is we were at risk dealing with these guys plus we had no passports, TK&A had taken them away to get Vietnam Visas. Above all, we needed to keep out of trouble while passing through China. No problem!

My group of bus riders were terrific. It continued to rain on us while we reloaded the bikes onto the China Post truck. Before long we were ready to go. Only problem being Marco had told me we had more seats than we actually did. Well, in all fairness, he told me the number of seats correctly, it we had Chinese bottoms sitting in the seats. But since we had American bottoms sitting in the seats, we came up short 2 seats. So my bottom sat on a step all the way to Longsheng. It wasn’t soft, but it was dry! I was happy.

There’s something to be said for the security of knowing you have a ride to the next location, come rain or shine. Before we got to the next destination, several folks on the bus decided they would like to have the option to ride everyday. I was encouraged to arrange for our bus to follow us all the way to Nanning, our last day in China.

I passed around a sheet and once again got enough signatures on it to fill 2 buses for the next 5 days! I went back into negotiations with Marco. This time he wanted more money per day then before. I balked at the concept telling him it the job security for him and his drivers should be enough that they should be reducing our price. Of course he didn’t see it that way. We finally settled on the same price plus a fee for accommodations for the drivers. The fee was 100 yuan ($12) per day for 4 drivers. W e had a deal.

Marco really wanted the business and every time he saw me for the next 24 hours, he wanted to know “how many have paid.” I would give him the count and I could see the little dollar signs rolling around behind those round glasses of his. We were putting his first born through college, for sure!

In true Chinese fashion, he continued to try and nickel and dime me. At first he wanted me to fill more seats, then he wanted me to fill the seats in the truck that carried the bikes. Then he needed more living expenses for the 5th driver of the bike truck. I got very good at saying “No!” At one point I had to demonstrate just how many Americans can actually sit on the very rear seat in a bus. The number was a maximum of 4, not 5 like the Chinese.

The biggest surprise in store for Marco was when he discovered that even though we bought and paid for seats in the bus, we would not necessarily be using them. I likened the bus ticket to “bus insurance”. If it rained or if riders wanted to cycle only half a day then ride in the bus the rest they could. So when the first day came and we only filled half of each bus, Marco was curious and anxious. He wanted me to sell the seats, again. I had to explain as best I could, “no, we are done selling!”

Marco’s English was better than my Chinese, but we still had a huge communication gap. Our universal language was money. We both knew how to count it.

So now instead of me riding a bike and working on my site, I am know bargaining, organizing and collecting money. I also load bikes, make rules, tell people what time we leave and why we can’t wait just for them because they don’t like getting up so early or late or whatever! All this I’ve done for fun and fun it is. It has given me a feeling of satisfaction, just knowing that I have provided a needed service. It is just another step in my great adventure.

October 23, 2000 Longsheng Layover
Day 297
There are some great jokes going around today. My favorite is regarding Tim Kneeland’s choice of layover days. “what would you choose, a half a day in Paris or a full day in Longsheng?” Of all the places in the world to ask a group of people for more money to continue a trip that the majority feel has been substandard to begin with, Longsheng would not be my choice.

As we entered the city, we passed through miles and miles of construction. The road continued to be very busy, but the only clue that it was a road was the fact that there were no buildings in the way. It was a mass of muddy ruts, holes and bumps. It looked as though it had been that way for years, with no hope of improvement. In Longsheng we were quartered into three separate hotels for housing. One hotel had 10 stories but no elevator. Luckily I got the one with the elevator!

My hotel was at the end of a dusty, dirty street. Like most places in China the lobby was entirely open on the street level. Because of this fact it was impossible to keep clean. They tried to do so however, because the lobby floor was always wet from the constant mopping. It was a battle no one wins in China.

Also true in this country is the unusual way they operate room entry. There are no keys to give out. On every few floors there is a “proctor”. When you need to enter your room, you go to that floor, find the proctor who will come open your door for you. You must do it this way, that is if you want your door locked. The other alternative is to not lock your door. With 1.2 billion people in the country, I guess it’s a way to give out more jobs! Never mind the amazing hassle for the customer!

Our room could be described as “primitive”. The floors were clean when we arrived, relatively speaking, but by the time we traipsed in with the dirt on our shoes it was a mess. The bathroom on the other hand was still wet from a cleaning (or at least that’s what I preferred to believe!) Later upon closer inspection I discovered that wasn’t so.

The hot water system in the bathroom was interesting. To have hot water in the shower, we had to open a trap door under the counter, reach into the bowels of the building and turn the knob on a propane tank. Once on, within a few minutes I would have hot water. It was an interesting shower hose too. The hose was clear, so as I turned on the water I could watch it’s progress through the hose and up to the shower head, or rather the place where the shower head should be. Ours was long gone.

The most important thing to be careful of in our shower was to watch out for the squat toilet. Since it was located directly beneath the shower head, it was easy to fall into the toilet. I lost 2 bars of soap down that darn thing! But hey, they saved money on a tub, shower curtain and additional drain! What a system!

Oh! I almost forgot to mention the value added feature only available for night time showers. I turned on the propane tank, forgetting to close the trap door, because of this I was able to hear the “Live Music” resounding up the center of the building from the disco 2 floors below. It was so loud I felt present in the disco. Showering became a musical experience!

Later I learned that my hotel was considered the best of the three, so I guess I should feel privileged. The main hotel was so disgusting. They served us food there. After the first night of nothing but cold food, I went out to a restaurant to eat. So many riders have been getting sick in this country. I know the way to insure sickness is to eat cold food or fruit off the street without washing it. I refuse to take any chances. What amazes me is that the tour director does nothing about it. Even after handing out a “health warning” paper on how to survive in this country, they do nothing to insure that we are protected. Many tables were left with plates of cold food on them. We are surviving on rice.

The “Kristal Buses” took our group of people up to Longi where the famous “Dragon’sBackbone Rice Terraces” are located. The narrow road was mostly under construction as we climbed to an altitude of 800 meters. The views were astounding as was the primitive method used for building it.

I found myself holding my breath as we climbed the mountains. Looking down, I wondered if I should have had everyone sign a waiver of responsibility. This road was the most dangerous piece of work I have traveled on, ever. It was also the most exciting.

Once we arrived at the parking lot for the Dragon’s Backbone Rice Terraces, we were greeted by a group of Yao women. They were selling trinkets, but also gently insisted on accompanying us up the hill. At first glance I thought these women were wearing hats. Then upon closer inspection, I saw it was their hair that was piled upon their heads. It was impressive.

I pointed at the women’s hair, remarking how long it must be. She motioned toward the ground and told me it went to there! She then took out a picture of herself, taken for some brochure, where she was washing her ground length hair in a stream. It was obviously her pride and joy. She let me photograph her and then I was able to get in a picture with a group of these gentle ladies.

I loved their choice of colors. They all wore that bright hot pink color with black skirts. I wondered if they choose that color combination to wear as a uniform, or if it was a traditional thing. They were obviously used to tourists, as they were ready and waiting for us when we pulled up.

Let the bargaining begin!We had to continue our climb from the parking lot to heights way above. I was surprised to see so many very nice looking wooden houses. All the materials had to be carried up these paths, there were no natural building materials used in them. On the way down I passed several men carrying cement blocks on the end of a yoke, up the stairs to the clouds. I wondered how long it takes to build a house up here.

It took at least 45 minutes to climb to the top. Along the way we passed the village homes and several guest houses. This photo shows the water system coming down from a mountain spring. When we were on our way back, a couple young girls were washing their hair in this stream. It looked rather refreshing on this hot and muggy day.The mountains are covered with rice terraces in every direction. It is quite a feat of farm engineering, not an inch is wasted.

The Yao women were delightful. They were the most persistent, but gentle saleswomen I have ever encountered. They did not take “no” for an answer. I don’t think one of us left the mountain top without purchasing something from them, whether we needed it or not.

Sean was surrounded by Yao women, he ended up buying 2 purses. Just what every well dressed guy needs!

I came back from this day feeling very enriched. It was a rewarding experience with primitive people, one that I’m glad I’ve braved the dirt, dust and mystery food of China to receive.

Yangshou to Guilin

Day 294

If you ever have to be stuck in China during the rain Yangshou is the place to be. I enjoyed a wonderful American breakfast while sitting in front of a “high speed” modem computer, watching the rain pour off the umbrellas outside. It was about as close to heaven as one can get in China. My morning was finally content and cozy, even though I felt like an “extra” in a movie set.

Getting on a bike today was not a high priority, the route was very short, flat and straight. I should be able to do it in 2 -3 hours, so I hung out waiting for the rain to subside. It never did. When I finally set out to cycle, I pulled on my 15 Yuan ($2) purple poncho and for the first time in awhile, blended in with the bike traffic, sort of. Clocked in the folds of purple plastic, I rode anonymously on the street, without having to say 10,000 hellos. It was a day off from having to be excessively friendly!

The route was uneventful other than a stop at a bakery where I along with other Odyssey riders consumed mass quantities of recognizable food called sponge cake. It was so light and sweet we ordered portion after portion, leaving the sales staff in awe or disgust at our appetites. We were all so starved for something to eat that we could identify, we were ready to camp right there in front of the bakery stall.

At our hotel, I was delighted to see an enterprising young woman waiting for us with a garden hose and rag. She was charging 5 yuan (50 cents) to wash down our bikes and us. It was a wonderful deal, my bike and panniers were so covered in street mud and slosh I couldn’t see what color they were. I myself and clothing was so dirty, it took me several hours to get clean, washed and hung out to dry.

Considering how short the day was, it was not worth the effort. I didn’t want to ride in China in the rain anymore, I just reached my enough.

Guilin Layover

Day 294

I woke up this morning feeling for the first time in the entire year, I was satisfied. I’ve been in more places than I can remember and suffered more discomfort this year than in my entire life. Just the same it has been a good year and it can end anytime now. I’m ready.

Feeling as though there was nothing else better to do, I tagged along on the Guilin cave tour today. The caves were beautiful, but the Chinese had ruined them with both noise and light pollution. The guides speak to the tour groups with bullhorns, so in true Chinese fashion the noise is unbearable. They have also placed fluorescent lights throughout the caves to give the rocks interesting color. The lighting is so poorly placed, ruining the natural effect of the cave itself.

The bus also took us to another tourist spot where everyone climbed a hill (after paying an entrance fee) to see the view of the city. Not wanting to pay to climb, I browse the stalls for trinkets then just stood doing my Pocketmail in the middle of the park waiting for the group to come back to the bus. While waiting, a group of Chinese tourist came up to me and asked if I would pose in a picture with them. I said “OK.” They proceeded to take several photos with me and various members of their group. They were very thankful and polite, putting their arms around me like we were old friends. I wonder what they will tell their friends back home about this strange American Tourist they met in Guilin.

My feelings of boredom continued throughout the day. China as fascinating as it is, is very difficult to manage. I am totally illiterate here, not able to read the signs nor does counting on fingers work. The Chinese have a system different for finger counting than we do. They even still use the abacus for record keeping. It is a different world.

TK&A scheduled a meeting for this evening. We all assumed that since we would soon be leaving China for Vietnam and Vietnam was having major flooding, we would be hearing about a change in venue. Well that was partly right. We had a change in venue, but the change turned out to be a complete shock.

Tim got up and announced that Odyssey was out of money 35 days before the scheduled end of the trip. He said we had money to get to Singapore and then we would all be given tickets to fly home (LA) via commercial air carrier from there. We were told that in order to finish the trip and scheduled after Singapore, TK&A would need an additional $3000 from each of us.

Tim blamed the Japan fiasco and JAL for blocking our entry into the country and us having to pay so much to the airlines for the episode. He didn’t mention the fact that our first two trips of the year ran into huge cost overloads, due to his failure to plan ahead. He is now blaming the “lack of funds” on the airline costs going up since he budgeted in 1995.

The first question fielded from the audience was a request to “see the books.” It was declined. We just have to “trust” that the money is gone.

Immediately the group went into “let’s salvage” the trip mode. People came up with ideas to save money and change things so we could all hang on until the end of the year. Very few people are ready to go home, just yet. By the end of the meeting the reality was starting to set in, Odyssey was over.

During the meeting several people gave enough input that we knew we had to form a committee to help wade through the mountains of suggestions and determine how to proceed. People were not willing to pay an additional $3000 to be mismanaged. One rider stood up and told Tim he was good at some things, but he was not good at processing things in a clear and concise manner. We needed a facilitator to do that. Since one of our members had experience in dealing with anarchists, we would like him to take on the job of determining Odyssey’s future.

By meeting end, we had a committee of 12 people who were willing to design a questionnaire to determine who was thinking or willing to do what. It was a start.

Zhongshan to Yangshuo

Day 292

While writing postcards tonight, I tried to pinpoint what it was about China that is so unusual. I both love and hate it, the countryside is different and beautiful while at the same time primitive and dirty. I made a deal with myself, that if China conditions were so bad, I would ride a few days, then hop on a bus, plane or whatever and return to Hong Kong, then maybe fly to Thailand until the group caught up. Well out of our 4 nights so far, we have had more unacceptable accommodations than not. Yet, I’m not wanting to leave. Why is that?

Curiosity is part of the answer. China has had such a turbulent past with the rise and fall (?) of leaders. The people have suffered so much and yet they are still here working day in and day out. They do so much work with so very little. The people in the fields are planting and harvesting by hand. They use water buffalo to help them with the heavy work. When the work is done, they walk their water buffalo down the street like we walk a dog. Sometimes the buffalo has a calf or maybe two and they tag along. It is quite a sight to see.

When the crops need water, they carry huge pails of water, one slung on each side of a yoke and walk the water from the source to the plants. Using a long stemmed ladle, they water each plant, one by one. As it comes time to harvest, the crops are picked and put on lattice trays or bundles and carried to market. Rice is gathered first by picking the long reed like shafts, bundled and carried to a foot powered “machine” and thrashed until the rice comes off the top. Once again, all by hand.

The farms are made of many small crops, intertwined together on a hillside or along a river. The borders form interesting terraces in the landscape, reminding me of a patchwork quilt. A quilt that represents the food of life, rice paddies, persimmon trees, berries, nuts, potatoes, bok choy and tomatoes. I saw so much pride in the garden quilt, the rows straight and no brown leaves or weeds. It was another art form for the farmer, the pride and joy of his labor.

Yesterday, we cycled by groups of women washing their clothes in the river, today further up the road, the women had an “improved” location. Their river was replaced by a series of several concrete “pools”. I joked with Stephanie saying that now we know where the “laundry mat”, it was her turn to do the laundry.

It is hard to believe that I live in the same world as these women. I would never think of doing my laundry, at least on a full time basis in the river. Yet here they were, loaded down with a weeks’ worth of the family’s laundry, laughing and slapping their day away and enjoying themselves. I heard only joy in their sounds.

China is another country that appears to be “under construction”. The closer we got to the city today, the more building was going on. Some buildings are being replaced and others are brand new. Construction materials, mainly brick are lined up, ready and waiting to be mortared into place. That too, is done by hand without cement mixers. The mortar is carried on double yokes to where it needs to be. The process is slow and cumbersome, but this is the way it must be done.

Xindu to Zhongshan

Day 291

The night was long, but my sleep was short. All night I felt ants on me and the noise from the streets was unbelievable loud. The hotel bed was simply a plywood board covered with a sheet. It was a harder surface to sleep on, than the ground. The windowless window in the bathroom let wind blow through, which in turn made the bathroom door swing back and forth, slamming every few minutes, until I figured out is was our door and stuck my shoe there to stop it. Let’s face it, this place didn’t have any stars or any portion of a star. It was a starless hotel!

My day began in slow motion, I was exhausted. The ride was described as “mostly flat”, but it was very hilly and into the wind. After running on the excitement of adrenaline yesterday, today I was on the opposite end of the pole. Tired and worn out. Even the kids didn’t seem to be as friendly this morning. It was a “lead butt” day.

The scenery changed from the dinghy monotonous farmland to the sharp pointed limestone pinnacles called karsts. They are remarkably beautiful, my mood lifted with the sight of them. This is why I came to China.

Rice paddies in the foreground and Karst in the background.

The Chinese live with noise. On the streets the vehicles constantly use horns to signal they are approaching, get out of the way or to express their happiness. All day long we listened to the honking horns of the approaching buses. They honk as they approach a bend in the road to signal other vehicles. Sometimes they are honking at pedestrians, just to let them know not to walk into the street. Of course this seems odd, but then the way people around here move the honking if part of the flow of the traffic, it is a honk of consideration, not one of anger. Once understood, it is expected.

As a driver one must know when to honk. The appropriate time is long before the honking subject is near. The honk should be longer then necessary, just in case the subject is totally deaf, in which case it the honk is long enough the deaf subject should be able to feel the vibrations. The honk should have a lilt to it, not a constant honk but one with some distinction in the beginning and the end. This way the subject will know it is not a honk of danger or anger. A honk, done properly will result in all subjects merging left or right and allowing the passing vehicle to pass without slowing down.

It is a Chinese traffic symphony designed to sell more aspirin.

The last 20 kilometers we were blessed with a tailwind and blew into town so fast, I could hardly believe we were there. Zhongshan was the first town in China that looked as if the people had some pride of ownership. The apartment houses had trees and flowers growing from the balcony and there were street sweepers working in the street. The streets were clean.

Our hotel was on the opposite end of a very crowded open air market. It was so crowded that Stephanie and I had to get off our bikes and walk them through, for safety. The vendors were selling all sorts of vegetables, most of which neither one of us could identify. There were guys walking around selling sweet looking things that looked like peanut brittle and sesame crackers. They looked delicious, but after Morocco and the flies, I’m not into eating anything that is not wrapped.

Once settled in our wonderful hotel room with such amenities as glass in all the windows and a sit down western style potty and a TV that only speaks Chinese (darn!) we opted to go for a walk. Down the street we were told was a bakery. I was dying for some bread to put my peanut butter on, so off we went. On the way there we were beckoned by a young Chinese lady as to where we were going and where we were from. She spoke to us in perfect English, a treat to our ears. As we expressed interest in a bakery, she led us there and acted as our interpreter explaining what each unusual looking item was.

After much discussion I purchased two rather good sized cookies, two different types of rolls and a donut looking pastry. This entire purchase cost 5 RMB which is about 60 cents U.S. Food is cheap here. I added up all my expenses since I arrived in mainland China 3 days ago. I have yet to spend $5.00! Of course when we hit the tourist cities over the next few days, I’m sure that will change.

On the return to the hotel, we were mobbed with school children. They were waiting in ambush, screaming for our autographs! Each child had either an autograph book or a pad of paper, some had mere scraps of paper, but they were treating us like celebrates. It was a gas. Stephanie, myself and many other riders stood there patiently signing our names for them. It was a charmed moment to reflect on for us.

Art and Lynne on the Orange Crush machine!

My “lead butt” day ended up being another day of “10,000 hellos”. The people of the Republic of China are awesome.

Wuzhou to Xindu

Day 290

Today’s title is “The Day of 10,000 Hello’s!” The streets were lined with humanity all day long, from the city to the country and back to the city again. The children were the happiest and they loudest, shouting at us as we rode, “hello!” They would keep shouting, there was no way one could ignore them. I would respond, “hello, hello, hello!” They are beyond excited to see us. I don’t think many Westerners visit this part of China.

The route was only 100 kilometers today, but the road was torn up for at least 80 kilometers of it. We rode on hard packed dirt, gravel and the worst of all, muddy clay. Several cyclists dumped their bikes becoming “mud people” it was so horrible. They had to scrape the mud off without a water source and ride to end of day. My goal today was NOT to join their ranks, I didn’t want to be a moving mud pie!

Xun Jian River at sun rise

The country is very beautiful, green and slightly mountainous. We climbed some but the altitude was manageable, I didn’t mind working. The worst part of the day was the air pollution, with no controls on the archaic vehicles and all the dust from the roads being constantly kicked up, I took to tying my bandana over my nose, going for the Sundance Kid look. It worked and I was able to put it up and down easily as needed. I was glad to have it with me.

We happened to be passing through a village when the school children were coming home from school. There were literally hundreds of children walking the streets towards home. I remembered my experience with the crowds of kids back in South Africa and prepared for a riot. I didn’t want to be unfriendly, but I knew if I stopped or slowed down it would not be a good thing, so I sped up shouting the, “hello, hello, hello!” greeting as I went. Several kids reached out and slapped me, just being friendly but the slaps brought red stings to my arms. They were poking a Al the Alien and giggling with joy. I was afraid for both of us, until a few minutes later when we reached the other side of town.

This part of China is the farm country. The people are poor beyond words, their living conditions are very basic. Homes are made of brick, most are two story with the ground level being wide open to the elements. I could see elder folks huddled in doorways, watching the world go by. There are few windows and never screens.

I am amazed at how run down everything looks. Usually brick homes are low maintenance, giving homeowners plenty of time to occupy them before having to repair. These homes look as though they were never finished, just started, moved into and waiting for the final construction loan payment to come through so the windows and doors can be installed. The lender must have went broke on this country, because nothing is finished and it all needs to be redone now, because the deferred maintenance has eaten up the original work and now it’s time to start over.

Transportation is also very basic, many people walk carrying huge loads with yokes balances on their shoulders. Some use push carts, like utility rick shaws for all sorts of goods. Most people are either on a bicycle, moped or motorcycle. Cars are few and far between. Public transportation is common, an empty bus is never is a parked bus. Usually buses are so crowded with people standing and hanging out of the windows, also saying, “hello!” to us.

The most curious event today was the 80 kilometers or so of road that was “under construction”. There were very few heavy equipment vehicles. All the works was done by laborers, standing in large groups alongside the road. The country is rich is labor, China has many people to work by hand. Labor is obviously cheap.

A few months ago I did a tirade on the horrors of British plumbing. I take it all back now! This is our China bathroom, it all works very simply. Both the shower and the sink drain into the toilet. No, that hole in the ground isn’t because someone stole the toilet, it’s a squat toilet. Please notice it’s a BYOTP bathroom. We also supplied our own towels.

Since I discussed the bathroom in full detail, the room wanted equal time. Notice they did supply mosquito netting above the bed and slippers. But the TV only speaks Chinese. We called it “home” if o nly for the night. (Thank goodness!)

Our hotel was one of five hotels that the group was dispersed too. Stephanie and I were assigned a room on the 4th floor, a walk up that we carried our heavy bags up to. It was a primitive room with even more primitive bath facilities. I learned later that we were considered to have a real “stylin’ room” because we actually had a sink in it!

Prior to leaving for dinner, I dumped my pannier onto the bed to organize it. I packed all my food in zip lock baggies and while doing so, I left a few crumbs on top of my bed. When I returned after dinner, my bed was crawling with ants! How they knew I left crumbs was beyond me! I brushed them off, but all night I felt creepy things crawling on me. It was not a restful night for me.

The Chinese are known for not wasting any food. If yo look closely, yo can see this chicken dish was served to us with the had attached, it is draped over the side of the dish.

Hong Kong to Wuzhou

Day 289

One last day of travel took us up the Xun Jiang River to Zhaoquing, where we got on buses to take us an additional 4 hours to the town Of Wuzhou. The ferry ride started very early in the morning from Victoria Harbor in Hong Kong.

The ferry terminal reminded me of an airport, with it’s busy baggage checking and weighing system and all the stores. Apparently the People of the People’s Republic of China enjoy weekend shopping in Hong Kong too, because there were hundreds of passengers waiting for various ferries.

As we boarded the ferry, we all cheered at the site of our bicycles strapped to the upper deck. It had been 2 long weeks since we had seen them and I for one missed my bike immensely. It gave me a warm comfortable feeling to pick out my bike via the colorful handle bar tape, it was one of a kind!

Our ferry went very fast thru the harbor and up river, passing many ships in the busy port. The various water vessels gave us a few hints as to what the country would be like next. They were in various stages of neglect and disrepair, all seemed to need a good paint job.

In Zhaoquing we climbed off the ferry and then up a rather steep cliff to the terminal. Our bikes were lifted by crane, set on a flat-bedded lift, then hoisted up the cliff to the terminal. The dock was crowed, mostly with curious Odyssey riders, watching this usual system. We all wanted to get “the picture” as the bikes fell from the crane. It didn’t happen.

Inside the terminal I snapped a few photos, one photo of particular interest was the sign illustrating penalties of traveling through the “Territory” without proper papers. It was a serious offense with stiff penalties. Before I could click the shutter a 3rd time, I was instructed by a uniformed officer, “that’s enough!” So I politely put my camera away. The last thing I want to do is lose my digital camera to China!

Once through customs and immigration, Al the Alien and I waited for the Odyssey trucks to get loaded up with all our gear. It was a mad house, with absolutely no organization. The porters were bringing huge hand trucks with gear 5 foot high and having to zig zag through the crowd. It was an accident waiting to happen. No one is prepared to deal with this large group, as usual we were straining the resources.

While all this is happening, a crowd kept growing. It appeared the word was spreading and people from the town were stopping by to watch the action. The action was us! They milled around and stared at us barbarians. We were Sunday Night Live entertainment.

I’m not absolutely certain, but would guess that our buses were built before I was born. They were still running but dilapidated and very low. As I sat down, I bumped my head on the rack above. Anyone over 5 1/2 feet had to duck in order not to bang their heads on the light fixtures in the ceiling. It was Lilliputanville all over again.

We stopped at a hotel for our rest break. In front of the hotel there was a stand, it was sort of a butcher shop, the only difference being it was a do it yourself type butcher shop, all the animals were live! They were fluffy white chickens with blue faces, ducks, turtles and many varieties of snake. Guess when you are in China, “What’s for dinner” isn’t usually beef!

I am seriously considering vegetarianism.

My fears of our first night’s accommodation in China were for naught. Our hotel room in Wuzhou was far nicer than the one we stayed in Hong Kong. It was a pleasure having an evening in a nice place, I hope all of China will be this way, but I know it won’t.

We fly to Hong Kong from Kuala Lumpur, rest a day then board a ferry for a trip to the mainland of China. The next 13 days will be spent touring southwest China on bicycle. After a long stint without the bikes, we are anxious to get on them again!

Hong Kong Layover

Days 287, 288

Hong Kong is a city of height, it is built on a small space and everything goes up. Walking down the main shopping district gave me a feeling of being in the valley of a canyon, the buildings being the canyon walls. The buses even go with the height theme, they are tall double decker monsters ready to cram as many people as possible into them.

My first night in Hong Kong was spent visiting the night market. We walked from the Panda Hotel to the subway, exiting at the proper place to just walk upstairs and shop. Subways do not intimidate me anymore and the one in Hong Kong is very simple. It had a British feel right down to the “mind the gap” signs! (Meaning watch your step.)

On the layover day I opted for an open schedule, letting serendipity intervene. It was a rainy, dreary day not particularly good weather for taking pictures or sightseeing.

Jane and I rode the tram to the top of Victoria Peak, it was a steep climb to a wonderful vista overseeing the city. On top there was a building housing a shopping mall and several restaurants. We enjoyed our afternoon, dining and watching the rain fall.

Hiroshima, Japan

Day 285 traveling the world

Hiroshima suffered a horrible disaster in 1945 from which it has turned into a city with a purpose. We visited the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum where the horrors of the atom bomb and it’s aftermath are detailed in shocking realty. The Museum takes visitors through a pictorial history of the city and it’s progress through time. The reasons the United States choose to bomb it over other cities and what the city looked like before and after the bomb.

The destruction of the city was a significant, but worse was the effects it has had on the survivors and families. One girl, Sadako Sasaki was exposed to the A-bomb when was two years old. Ten yours later she entered the Red Cross Hospital with radiation-related leukemia. Despite the pain from her disease she faithfully folded paper cranes in hopes of a cure. Despite the valiant effort her life ended after an eight month struggle. Today Sadako has a statue in her honor. Thousands of children come each year placing paper cranes alongside in remembrance.

This site was 186 meters from the epicenter of the explosion, it remains as a reminder to the entire world the horrors of the atomic bomb and a symbol of global peace.

The museum was moving experience for me. It was so graphic and painful, I had to leave before I could finish seeing the whole thing. The message to the world is “never again!”

The Mayor of Hiroshima and it’s people have made it their business to intervene in the prevention of nuclear testing, by writing letters and demonstrating against the use of such weapons. It has become the city’s mission. Who better to promote the cause then one’s who have suffered so much from it.

“Hiroshima loves peace,” read the T-shirts in the gift shop. As the hoards of school children passed through the halls of the exhibits with us mostly Americans Odyssey riders, I couldn’t help but wonder if they hated us. Looking at their faces, I couldn’t detect any concern towards us “gaijin” or the exhibits they were looking at. It was just another day out of the classroom. They were totally nonplussed by the material and what it represented. Has it been that long?

As I have mentioned before the Japanese love vending machines, they are found everywhere in lieu of convenience stores. You can buy almost anything in them. For example, at a bus stop we found a rather inventive box of noodles. It was inventive because the noodles were sold cold and partially cooked. They were packaged inside the box in cellophane along with 3 packages of various spices, depending on which box you purchased.

To prepare your lunch on the road, all that was needed was to remove the ingredients from the box, sprinkle the spices on top then close the box. Hanging from the side of the box was a string, when pulled it would cause a chemical reaction and soon steam would exit the sides of the box. At this point is was important to remember not to hold the box by the sides, because it would burn. The chemicals in the bottom of the box were located under a perforated tray. They are they same chemicals used in those little pouches used by skiers to warm their hands. After 8 – 10 minutes the noodles would be cooked enough to eat!

Since the directions were totally in Japanese I didn’t wait long enough before opening my box. The noodles didn’t cook as much as they should have, resulting in a poor lunch. The experience of “cooking” this way was worth the price.

Our campground was on an island called Miyajima, to get there we got off the buses and took a ferry across. On the other side I was delighted to find a lovely tourist town with beaches and tame deer that walk the streets looking for handouts. It was a picturesque place.

Al the Alien, aka Shogun Warrior was eager to help the riders with their luggage. Since he has not been working on his “upper body” strength, he had some difficulty moving the carriage. Of course the riders loaded the carriage with 2 tons of baggage, making moving harder than ever.
Al being the happy go lucky guy he is didn’t mind, he takes everything in stride, smiling all the time.

The deer liked my breakfast sandwich.

Our campground in the early morning light.

Al the A lien enjoying a view of Hiroshima from Miyajima.

When Jim Higbee learned we were not going to have our bicycles on our bicycle tour of Japan, he went out and purchased this clunker for approximately $66. He rode the route and met us at the campground the morning before leaving for the airport cities. He has a goal of riding 20,000 miles this year, no matter what. He was cheered and congratulated by the group for his efforts. It was a very long, hard ride. That bike is a wobbly mess, I rode it for a few feet and couldn’t believe he rode all the distance he did from Kyoto to Hiroshima. Go Jim! Achieve that goal!

Bus to Sanbe Mountain

Day 283

After a maddening night of rain storms the tent got taken down and packed away soaking wet. We were on the road (via bus) again. I kept trying to find enlightenment. Why are we doing this?

It is a 6 hour ride to Sanbe, we stay a night then go to Hiroshima for 2 hours then go to camp 1 more hour away from Hiroshima in Miyajima. This Japan trip has turned into an insane mess. Last night I dinner I asked Tim if he had considered taking us to one place and letting us stay put. His answer was because the vendors had already bought our food and we had to show up because it was a 3 day holiday weekend. He didn’t want to waste the food. OK.

We board the bus after having a “traditional Japanese Box Breakfast”. Tim jumped on each bus telling us that the tolls would cost too much today for the buses to take the freeways, so instead of spending $1000 on tolls, we would be taking the scenic route. Of course that meant it would take longer than 6 hours, but for this inconvenience, Tim would buy the beer.

I hate beer.

October 9, 2000 bus to Sanbe Mountain
Day 283After a maddening night of rain storms the tent got taken down and packed away soaking wet. We were on the road (via bus) again. I kept trying to find enlightenment. Why are we doing this?<
It is a 6 hour ride to Sanbe, we stay a night then go to Hiroshima for 2 hours then go to camp 1 more hour away from Hiroshima in Miyajima. This Japan trip has turned into an insane mess. Last night I dinner I asked Tim if he had considered taking us to one place and letting us stay put. His answer was because the vendors had already bought our food and we had to show up because it was a 3 day holiday weekend. He didn’t want to waste the food. OK.

We board the bus after having a “traditional Japanese Box Breakfast”. Tim jumped on each bus telling us that the tolls would cost too much today for the buses to take the freeways, so instead of spending $1000 on tolls, we would be taking the scenic route. Of course that meant it would take longer than 6 hours, but for this inconvenience, Tim would buy the beer.

I hate beer.

Benj, Candy and Bill Bliss enjoying box breakfast
More folks enjoying breakfast with chop sticks

What can I say about a bus trip. It was long and boring. Most of the day we traveled on hilly roads in the rain. I couldn’t help but think I could be riding my bike in the rain. Actually, I loved the thought, it would have been a nice ride Instead I played one game of scrabble before the owner of the board took it back, then read until I dozed. Listening to the choir practice was the highlight of my day.

The Japanese countryside is never really rural. Japan is made up of 120 million people in a space smaller than California. They use the space nicely and there are lots of green mountains and plenty of water.

The houses outside the city are built with the pagoda style roofs, meant to last forever. Sometimes it seemed to me that the roof was in much better shape than the rest of the house. Most of the homes are two story.

Our convoy of 4 buses finally after NINE HOURS traveling dropped us off in a dark parking lot. We exited the buses standing in the rain, while the TKA bunch figured out where we had to go. As usual we had no information and I don’t think they did either. It was dark, wet and cold. We were now expected to go pitch a tent in unfamiliar territory under these conditions. What an adventure.

Oh yes! The food that the vendors bought had arrived. It was more boxed Japanese food. WOW! They were wrapped so nicely, Tim could have had them to us Fed Ex’d at a more convenient location. We traveled 9 hours for this?

Stephanie and I were invited to room with Richard and Joyce. They had rented a darling log cabin that slept 5 folks. It was Japanese style (what else) with a loft and bunk beds. The beds had mats on which we placed a futon mattress on. It was as hard as the ground under my tent, the only difference was it was completely level. Upon lying down, at first I didn’t think I would sleep well, but within a few minutes I was enjoying a wonderful nights’ sleep. It was nice to listen to the rain puttering on the roof and not my tent.