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Cycling in China

Email from the Road

Part 8

The French Invasion

Laos, Vietnam, Cambodia, all countries where French people travel, more then in other parts of Asia. It's fair enough since these countries have a history as French colonies.

But here in Chengyang Qiao I have seen almost only French travelers. I arrived when there was a French tour group of ladies of middle age (between 35 and 45), then the next day a French family arrived, father, mother and three kids. The other travelers in this hostel were apart of a polish couple all French. And today a French couple came in plus another French tour group.

The question now is, does the French have a history in northern Guangxi province or is this just a coincidence? I have no answers, all I can do is observe.

Why do the French come here? Obvious they come for the same reason as me: the Dong villages. Many of the villages have Wind and Rain bridges and Drum towers. They have mostly a social function for recreation, theatre and dancing. They are good meeting places and some of the bridges are used to sell stuff.

From tomorrow on I'll be back on my bike. Two days ago I caught a cold with light flu and heavy coughing. Nothing much to be worried about but I did get some medicine today in Sanjiang. Tomorrow it should be ok to be on the road again. Then I will go deeper in the heart of the Dong minorities. Deeper in the heart of the Dong county probably will give me more bridges, towers and traditional clothes to be watched. But that's for the next mail!

Kaili

Why is the crazy man in Kaili? It's a short story. I left Chengyang Qiao when I was still not healthy. I still had a bad cough but I am stubborn. So I left for Long e. What I didn't expect was the road condition after Sanjiang. It was not even paved! At least there was almost no traffic and for awhile I even thought I was on the wrong road. I expected a better road then this because it's an ongoing road. Anyway, this day it was nice hot weather and I was nicely sweating the shits (and the cold) out!

A little dirt road brought me to Long e. This road was even worse then the main road. Not for nothing, it was a smaller road. But the scenery was here and there beautiful. I had no doubts I would cycle from there further north.

I stayed a night in Longe, which is not a bad place at all. Many people told me it's a dirt town but the people are nice and the noodles great. And in the hotel no disturbance of "massage" girls so I could sleep!

I packed my bike the next morning for a short ride to Zhaoxing. It was not even 30 km so it could not take that long, about two hours max.

zhaoxing.jpg (29377 bytes)

Zhaoxing

But in the back of my head there was a little smiling voice of the sun of Lao Wu, my host in Chengyang Qiao that said:" the road to Zhaoxing is one long climb!."

But I left, it was beautiful weather and the road was mine. What could happen? What actually happened was that I cycled 11 km and then the climb started. Seldom in my life as a cyclist a mountain has beaten me and this mountain didn't beat me but it was on the edge. As soon as the climb started I realized that this was serious business and I shouldn't underestimate this climbing. I have climbed higher and steeper mountains then this but seldom one on a road like this. The holes were big and, of course at the steepest points. On my right hand I saw the other side of the valley with some beautiful little Dong villages with drum towers overlooking the valley. Yes, I had time to watch them, when I stopped to recover and find my next breath.

But in the end I made it up on the pass and there I saw two valleys. This was a magic moment. In front the lush green area with a lot human activity while on my back the lush green was there too but not that many villages.

I went down, it was hard on a road like this, my maximum speed that day would be 29 km/h while on decent roads I can do in a descending easy 55-65 km depending on the curves.

And then there's Zhaoxing, a big town in the middle of the silence. That was at least how it did approached me. Of course with 8000 people and 400 families it's small. It's beautiful, has 5 drum towers and some bridges.

I wanted to stay here anyway a day to explore the village a bit but I was really sick now. That next day I stayed again in bed, bad cough but I had at least medicine. So I missed that day but a day later I decided to be wise and stay in stead as in Chengyang Qiao to leave. Besides I had not seen anything. It was good to stay because there were several musical performances by real good singers/drummers. All of course in traditional dresses. The vocals sounded sometimes like some finish music I know by Vartinna. Magic music.

I left for a 77 km ride to Diping. Only 77 km but now I was warned. The 29 km to Zhaoxing had took me 3 hours. What would Diping bring me? Hardship. The first 14 km were no problem but then it started to rain. At the same time a climb started. The road became a mud path but it was nothing compared to what I would plough through later.

I reached the top and went down. From now on the road swindled up and down for a while. I had a little lunch at a market in a little town somewhere halfway. Lots of minority people where here and all thought I was a madman (how right they were, they knew what I didn't knew at that time)

Everything went not too bad up to the moment I reached the mark of 26 km to Diping. I had washed my bike because I was carrying more mud then luggage. And only 26 km! Yippee! I should have been warned. The rain started again and the road slowly went up ... and up... and up... and it never ended! The road by now was a mud path and I was struggling in a few centimeters mud. Still I could cycle. But the strength was flooding with rain.

And then the little gear gave it up. With the mud it couldn't work anymore. I cleaned it again but it was no use. With a slightly bigger gear I couldn't go up so I had to walk. This time this mountain had beaten me... for now. So every now and then I tried to cycle in the mud and the rain. I looked at the bike and my luggage and all was the same mud color. I looked at myself and saw the same. From kilometer mark 19 I walked to mark 18 and 17, then 16.... finally I reached the pass at km mark 13. Now I came at a crossroads. Whereto now? No people and no traffic! I choose right, that was at least north and north seemed to be the direction on Diping. After 2 km's descending I saw a little guy. He told me I was in the wrong direction. Diping was the other way!

Another 2 km up! But then it was only 12 km to Diping. Sure, the road was a mud path but the idea of a hot bath and food gave me new powers.

Unfortunately I was not yet there. The road had a new test. The road here went every few hundred meters up and down, for the last 12 kilometer. But to all suffering there's an end. And indeed in this story too. I cycled into Diping direct into a gestation. Here I cleaned the bike and myself for the most. Then another guy showed up and cleaned my bike even better.

Now I was ready for the next chapter, a look for the many hotels in this big city! The town looked to me as a real big city, so many people, so much traffic but no hotel!

In the end I asked some people and they directed me to the one I had overlooked. A nice warm bath was my reward.

Who thinks this is the end of the story meets me this morning. I had bought a good map of Guizhou province. It said there was a better road going north. So after breakfast I looked for this road. It turned out this road was even worse (it was raining again and I went 15 cm deep in the mud) then I had to Diping. After 5 km I turned around and went to the bus station. Immediately I took the bus to Kaili. Here I will search another road I can cycle. So, that's it this time, hope you had fun!

More wet

Is it ever dry in Guizhou? I don't think so. Since I left Zhaoxing I haven't seen the sun. On the way to Liping it was clouded and drizzling and raining and it never stopped until now. The name of the town? I have no idea. I use my Chinese map and it doe not have English names. But it's not far from Huai Huay, if that spelling is correct. The rain made my cold not better, in fact worse. Coughing is still a major problem though the medicine does work.

Tonight I am going to check where the weather might be better because this is no fun to cycle. There are no views, no nice sunshine, no nothing. Just shitty weather and dirt on the road that makes me and the bike very dirty and wet. Nothing dries too so in the morning I use my wet clothes because I have to.

Tomorrow I'll probably take a train or bus to another part of the country. I have another 4 weeks before I have to decide were to go after, then my visa will expire

Life as a bicycle

The bicycle had a difficult start. It came out of a well-known bicycle factory that had its base in Japan. The bicycle however was produced in the Netherlands. Not every bicycle became a Koga Miyata and Koga had decided this bike would be a "Worldtraveller", their masterpiece. Understandingly, our bike was very pleased with their choice.

Now life as a "Worldtraveller" was very easy as his colleague "Worldtraveller" bicycles told him. In his series there were about 20 and some were transported to the same shop as he was. After some time some of those bikes were sold but our bike saw them every once in awhile when they came back for maintenance.

On these occasions our bike was told about his forthcoming life. Usually the returned bikes stayed for a night or two and at those nights there was a lot to talk about life about being sold.

But a few bikes never returned. What happened to them was merely a mystery. Some rumored they were forgotten by their owners and now lived a life under the dust in a rusty garage. But other whispered those bikes where now in other parts of the world and had to work hard. All the other bikes shivered and kept their mouth shut.

A Koga Miyata Worldtraveller was usually sold to rich people with a lot of money and little time. Their life would be a life of adoration by the friends of the owner. Our bike however was aware of the traps in this life. What if the owner would loose interest in his bike? When our bike asked around he was laughed away and be told to be silent. That would never happen. But the seed of doubt was sawn.

No, our bike would be sold to someone who would show it to friends and family over and over again when they visited him.

Probably in the first year the bike would be used for some little rides during summer holiday in France or Italy. Maybe in the next year the owner would take it to Newcastle on Tyne although our bike hoped he would not be exposed to the see since he heard the salt of the ocean would demolish him.

Still, deep in his bicycle heart he hoped for a bit more adventure. Besides Koga had made him to live at least 10 years. If the owner would loose interest after two year he might end up in a second hand store or even an auction! Our bike shivered!

Our bike was sold and full of energy he wanted to show his owner his capacities. Besides, our bike was slightly arrogant and was looking a bit down on the "lesser bicycles".

When he returned in the bike shop for maintenance he told his unsold comrade how fortunate he was with his owner. The man was riding the bike but not too much. He was not even getting dirty! His only complain was that his owner didn't show the bike to too many people so not too many could look at him in amazement.

One day the owner decided to ride his new bike to North Pakistan and back. This was not exactly an easy life as our bike was expecting. With every possible trick he tried to convince the owner to change his mind.

All thinkable tricks were used. At first he let the rim break but the owner bought an American one, Texas made and our bike couldn't get a grip on this rim due to communication problems. It would hold on for another 12000 km. So the bike changed his strategy and let the racks break. They were replaced. Many other things broke during those first months.

There was however another side to this behavior of our bike. The owner, having so many problems began to loose faith in his bike and started to look for something else. It could be that the bike was dropped and this was never the intention of our bike.

But let's give our bike a name, it's easier in telling the story. William? No, too many syllables. Rudolph? No, the owner thought of the red nosed reindeer. What about Jim? Sounded good, only one syllable so the owner could remember that. No woman's name of course, this bike was male.

Whatever, Jim and the owner went on their way again. Jim understood now very well what happened with those bikes that never came back in the shop for maintenance. They were like him and travel around the world.

His eventual arrogance Jim set aside. This life was a life full of adventure and he tried to do his best to serve his owner his best. He remembered very well the desolation of the Iranian desert and the hospitality of the two Turkish women in Istanbul. The hardship in north Pakistan was another memorable memory.

Since a few month Jim and the owner were in China and every now and then there were problems. The back rack broke but the owner made a handmade iron rack, Chinese steel. In the beginning Jim had some communication problems but when he found out this rack was loyal to the owner he accepted the silent companion that served now longer then anyone of the original racks.

During their long stay in Yangshuo, China, the problems with the standard became intolerable and on one day it simply broke. The standard had always been the weak factor on the bike and in Yangshuo the standard couldn't bear it anymore. Jim felt sorry for him, he was a good though weak comrade.

On one occasion a screw broke of the front rack but was easily replaced. Jim had to talk with the backtrack. This one became too tired of always carrying the luggage and already had let broke two weld lines. Nothing serious but the owner was warned. Jim warned the rack it could be replaced by another iron one like the front one.

Another few minor problems were there with the gear system and the front brake but they would be sold soon. Nothing to worry. Jim was sure about that.

By now Jim had completely lost his superiority feeling and when the owner met other cyclist Jim would no longer turn away his front wheel but instead make a conversation about their common adventures like their owners did. Jim felt lucky, his life was very different from what he had expected but it was one full of adventures and his owner did his best to keep Jim in the best condition. When possible (and necessary) the owner gave Jim a bath in the hotel room which made Jim happy. By now Jim looked no more like the beautiful bike in the shop but he was happy in this life.

Next: Part 9

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