Beaches everywhere

December 16th I stay in a youth hostel at the beach. Strangely enough dormitory is as expensive as a cabin, although the cabin is more like a hut with a bed and a bench. I decide it is time to have a shave, the few moustache hairs I have start to fall into my mouth once in a while. I have no running water, no mirror and shaving cream. I put the water in my pan and use the soap I bought to clean my clothes in Tunis. After half an hour scraping I get the idea I have finally have rid me of the unwanted hairs. I take a picture to verify the results. At night karaoke is organized and because I have a strong dislike of it I flee to the beach. I finally have rented a place to sleep, I still end up sleeping on the beach. The next morning I try to get my free included breakfast. To my opinion the thing I get is not registered as breakfast, one bad coffee and 2 toasts with jam and butter. Swiftly I check out and head south.

My 3 weeks of not cycling and differently shaped saddle is taking its toll. My crotch is aching and my left ball has a huge blister on it. I tape it with duck tape in the hope this helps. The 18th I end up cycling to Ranong, much further than planned, but towns before it I did not really like. The next morning I cycle to the port to catch the ferry to ko payam an island recommended by one of my drinking buddies in Bangkok. When I arrive I am welcomed by a fellow cyclist. He turns out to be Dutch and is here with his wife, they have stayed at the same place I had. His name is Willem and his wife’s is Annette and they have been traveling on and off for the last 12 years. When we arrive on the island we promise to have dinner one night. It turns out that I have all my dinners with them and also a few other meals. Willem and Annette are full of stories and it is great to spend the evenings together. Apart from eating and talking with Willem and Annette, I take it easy. I rent a sea kayak for half a day to peddle to the next beach, this turns out harder than expected and when I can see it, I decide I am close enough and turn around. When I return I meet a woman whose husband took the luggage to the hut, but she was not aware where that was. When she and her son arrive at my place the owner affirms that her husband has arrived. But when she checks the cabin, it is empty. Her son has left with the scooter when he heard they had arrived at the right place and said he would return somewhere in the evening. I hope they were reunited later.

December 22nd I leave for the mainland again. I still have a long way to go to Malaysia and my visa will run out the 6th of January. I have my chain cleaned at a place recommended by Willem and then I head to a guesthouse. Here I meet the Israeli who occupied the hut next mine on the island. He has bought a bike and wants to visit the international rainbow festival. We decide to go together the next day. We arrive after dark after climbing rocks on the beach with our gear and bikes. In dark we search for a little spot to set up our stuff, my mosquito net and his hammock. I don’t want to stay, so I leave the next morning. I end up sleeping on the beach again near Takuapa, but now I have the whole beach for me alone. Probably the first Christmas eve I am totally on my own. In stead of having a nice dinner I have forgotten to eat since noon and I don’t feel like leaving the beach, so I end up hungry. I should start traveling with some food on me again. On Christmas day cycling is tough, I guess because I have not properly eaten the previous day. Today I feel I need energy, but I don’t feel like eating anything. I end up buying a lot of bananas and eating them. In the afternoon I start feeling better and when I arrive in Phuket city I am fine again, except for my crotch, which has still not fully recovered.

Bangkok by air

On the morning of the 8th I take a flight to Bangkok. Gisi an Austrian girl is so kind pay for the taxi from the airport to the centre. Dylan from Hawai joins us as well. Dylan knows a cheap guesthouse near Kaosan and we end up there. In the evening we meet Gisi again, who spent most of the day in a swimmingpool, before she flies back tonight. The 9th is dedicated to rhyming, my family celebrates Sinterklaas tonight. All rhymes are finished except the one for Iljoesja, sorry Il! The next few days I use to look for bikes, but not to fanatical if it was not for Vlad a Czech in the same Guesthouse I probably would still be looking. In between my searches I meet Eric, from the beach in Myanmar and with him I go on a trainride to the southeast of Bangkok. The train almost goes through peoples houses and when it stops in town, people go in on one side and leave through the opposite door, because they do not want to wait until it leaves. Just before the end point the train goes through a market. The stalls and the merchandise have to be moved everytime a train passes. Fortunately for them not that often
I also bump into Roger, I met him and Mireile in Kunming and although Mireile is not feeling well we have dinner and a lot of beers (only with Roger). The 14th I finally leave Bangkok with my newly acquired bicycle. On advice of the boys at the guesthouse I have been drinking with the last few days I take the train until Petchaburi. Because of excess alcohol consumption I fail to catch the two trains in the morning so I end up taking the one at 13:00. When I arrive in Petchaburi I cycle 100 meters and then ask for directions to a policeman. At that moment two motorcyclists collide and one ends up in my front wheel. I have in total not cycled 5 km with this bike and already it is ready for repairs. When I remove the front brakes I can still cycle and for the nex hour I follow the policeman around town for someone who can repair the front wheel. The only bikeshop is closed for a few days, because the daughter is getting married. Eventually we find someone who does an excellent job. He does not want any money for it, not even for the coke I took from his shop. It feels good to be cycling again! Later that night I am invited for beers and dinner by a group of boys all working in the same icecreamshop. In the morning finally cycling really begins I end up at a deserted beach, with a restaurant nearby, an ideal combination. Unfortunately to get from my musquito net to the restaurant I get attacked by dozens of musquito's. I can kill most of them, but quite a few managed to get some Bart blood. I had hoped that they would be quiet when I leave the safety of the net for a midnight pee, no such luck. The next morning I am invited to watch some cock boxing fights in a small homemade arena. I watch two fights, but I am not able to see, who wins. On the road top Thap Sakae I loose my map. When I try to buy a new one I meet a man who advises me to go to Ban Kruit, it is about 20km and the man is waiting at every crossroads to direct me in the right direction and at one point he holds a can of coke out when I pass, it feels like I have a support car with me.
I am very lucky with the wind. It is coming from the northeast and blowing with force Bf6. This makes cycling very easy most of the time. When I get lost, because I forgot the name of the city I was supposed to be going to, I have a few less nice stretches of road.

Exit Sambi

On November 20th I reach Magway. A boring town, but fortunately with a bikeshop with a fork for my bike. When I try to fit it on the bike it proves to short. Welding the old tube to the fork is no longer possible, but I get hold of a new tube, and someone to weld it to the fork. I have a bike again! The next day I delay departure to halfway the morning because of stomach problems. Still not feeling great I leave for the beach. Three times I am directed in the wrong direction and when on the right road I am stopped by the police, no entrance for foreigners. I head back to Magway, but do not want stay again in the lousy guesthouse. I set up camp a few km east of the town, not after throwing up after which I feel much better.

Just after lunch I ride through a very small hole, this however is to much for Sambi. Again the fork breaks, now outside the frame, which makes me tumble forward over the handlebar. After a while I get up and check my wounds, nothing serious. At the same places as last time, but this time at the left side, I am in balance again. When I drag the bike to the side of the road I decide I have enough of it and I will leave Sambi behind. I take of my backpack, panniers and the tires, they are still good and when everything is packed I stop a pick-up truck to the next town, taungdwingy. I try to check in to a guesthouse but at both I am not allowed to stay. When I am drinking a soda at a cafe thinking of what to do next I am visited by the immigration police. They want to know all about me. The end of the story is that I am not allowed to stay in the town. When I tell them that there are no places available on the busses, they make a phonecall and all of a sudden there is a place. The 12 hour busride is not a nice re-introduction to public transport. The woman next to me vomits half the busride, when doing so, puts her kid on my lap. The people in the chair in front of me, put it back as far as possible, I have no place to rest my head and as ice on the cake halfway during the night a rat climbs into the bottom part of my trousers, he does not stay long though.

In Yangon I go to the White house hotel where I am allowed to use the breakfast, although I only pay for coming night. Here I bump into Hilton. The both of us stay for the full 2 hours that the well assorted buffet is open and eat almost enough for the rest of the day. When I go outside I see Helen get her luggage out of a taxi. After a brief exchange of news I invite her to join dinner with Hilton and me. At the end of the day we end up having drinking beer with the largest part of the group from Bagan. When we enter a bar I am surprised to hear a local band play to my knowledge an Engnlish version of a Dutch song Suzanne of "VOF de Kunst", but maybe it was originally English. The next morning I find a little package at the reception. Helen has brought some bandages and stuff to clean wounds. It gives a good feeling that someone has thought of my health. Then I head to the busstation to take a bus to the beach on advice of a German couple I met at breakfast. The first night I camp on the beach, but in the morning I am told it is not legal. Later that day I rent a little hut at the beach next to Eric, an American I had met in the bus the day before. Although I have to make rhymes for my family for Sinterklaas I do not find the time to do this, instead I do nothing or play football on the beach with a few locals. We win, but most of my wounds are open again and I even have a new one on my shin. Fortunately I have the stuff from Helen.

On the third of December I take the bus back to Yangon. To my surprise Jake, I met him earlier in Tunis and Istanbul, has already arrived, he had told me he would only arrive tomorrow. I manage to fill my days with almost nothing. Every day has the same routine. I have breakfast from 8 till 12 and chat with everybody around, then go out for a while like the market or the famous Shwe Dagon Paya. Have a few snacks, then dinner on the street or in a restaurant and I conclude with a couple of beers. It is nice to take it easy for a while, but I already start missing the bycicle.

Smiling people

November 17, I head into Myanmar. The Chinese side gives me a hard time, because of my visa extension in Shanghai, which seems to be extended 10 days late. After half an hour they finally let me go to the Myanmar side. Here I call the number I received and after a while Mr. Tonka shows up to get me into the country. Once in a while I am asked to sign something and after more than an hour I am in. My bike already was on the roof of the taxi. I only have to pay the absurd amount of 150 euro to the travel agent of which the largest part will go to the regime I am sure. Then a taxi takes me and mr Tonka, who is a small fragile guy, instead of the big bulky association I have with this name. If I want to stop somewhere I have to ask Mr. Tonka and he will decide if we can. At the end of the afternoon I am released from my babysitter when I am dropped off at 1 of the 2 hotels I am allowed to stay in Lashio.

I have not noticed much of the regime, we had 2 checkpoints, but it seemed they could have been avoided if I had wanted to if I had been cycling on my own. I saw a university in the middle of nowhere, Mr. Tonka told me the regime deliberately is placing them there to move students out of the city, as they are the main source of its critics. The next day I am so happy, I sing, hum, whistle and greet people non-stop. The people seem to be happy to see me, before I see them they greet me with “hello”, “good-bye” or “ok” and all are giving me a big smile. Even the group of people working on the side of the road, with 2 guards with semi-automatic watching them, give me a warm welcome. Not far before Hsipaw I cross a bridge with next to it another bridge on the bottom of the river, the truck that probably caused the break still on it. When I try to make a picture I am told to keep on cycling. The guide had told me a nice place to stop was Hsipaw, he pronounced it as “chebor” so when I went trough Hsipaw I did not recognize it. When I ask for directions to Hsipaw 10 miles later the guy thinks I am nuts, I decide cycle 20 miles more for the next town. There I am invited by a kid to sleep at his house. He and his friends take me out with their scooters, to a place where a band plays (very badly) and after that to hot springs.

The next day I pay a visit to Mr. Thapa, the boys’ English teacher when I head in the direction of Mandalay. He is glad to see me again and offers me an instant coffee. Nearly everything is instant in Myanmar. After 15 mile I have to go steep down to the river, I can already see the road up after the river. When going down I can not avoid cycling over a snake that also was going down. It was making big s’s and made a launch for my rear tire but it was to slow, probably injured as well. This reminds me to be careful when I go off the road.

A couple of miles before Pyin Oo Lwin I see a beautifull Paya on the top of a hill. I decide to put in the extra effort and have a closer look. After only 10 meters my rear wheel hits the frame. Initially I think one of the bolts was not tightened enough, but this does not seem the problem. The ax is broken. On foot I cover the last 4 miles, to the city, I decide to skip the visit of the paya. It already is dark when I arrive at the bicycle repairman. A 12 year old kid puts in a new ax. I think he does a lousy job, the owner tells me to return the next morning when it is light and he will do it properly. The first four hotels I visit I am not allowed to stay, because they do not have a permit to accommodate foreigners. The fifth does allow me. In the evening I am invited by a bunch of girls to join their dinner. I get these honours because they think I am handsome and want to be my girlfriend. It is good for the ego, but after a while I get enough of it and leave. When leaving the restaurant I nearly break my knee as I drop one and half meters down in the sewer right outside. Fortunatly only my shoes are covered in shit. One of the cool things of Myanmar is that transportation relies still very much on animals. In the western world you would see this kind of transportation only used by tourists, here it is widely used by the locals.
In Mandalay I manage to play a game of football again with some local kids. We play barefooted on a sandy field covered with rocks. Winner remains on the pitch. After an hour, still undefeated I leave with hurting feet. I book the slow boat to Bagan which leaves the next morning at 5:30AM. In and around Bagan I make a little trip by bike with fellow travelers through to look at some of the thousands of paya’s. At first Hilton, an Aussie, takes us on a route to where we see no paya’s at all. If it had not been for Helen, from Norway we would have cycled a couple of hours without seeing one. Now we turn and go down the hill to places where there are paya’s in spades. Here we are reunited with the English couple we had lost earlier, they knew where they were going. At the end of the afternoon we are racing to get to a paya we can climb to see the sunset from. Now we loose Hilton, but we all meet again in town. Helen is leaving at 4:30AM next morning and decides not to go to sleep before that. Hilton and I decide to keep her company aslong as a couple of beers join the company as well. Before we know it is time to say goodbye. The harder part of travelling. I go to sleep for a couple of hours, before I leave also. Before I can leave I have to try to solve the problem with the middle sprocket. It's tooth seem to worn to grip the chain. Ofcourse I cannot do anything about it and leave anyway. After a few km the largest sprocket goes too, which leaves me only the smallest. In combination with the use of only the 3 lightest ones at the back, makes cycling a maddening experience, especially downhill. At the end of the afternoon I finally find a man who has something lying from an old bike. He puts it on and tests it for me. Considering the options he does a good job, but I am only able to use only the 2 smallest sprockets and the crank is bend, which makes pedalling a bit incoonvenient. Still it beats cycling in the lightest gear all the time. It is already dark when I am invited to stay at someones house. Half the village comes by to have a look at the white guy. Unfortunately also a government oficial comes by and I can see he makes my host uneasy. I decide to leave. It is pitch dark and I do not see anything. I cycle in some potholes before I finally find a sandy spot to put up my musquito net. I am afraid to stop in a grass because of the snakes. The next morning I check my front fork and what I expected is true, broken again. I can still cycle with it, but obviously have to be careful with higher speeds and bumps. I decide not to brake with the front brake. Without much problems I manage to reach Magway.

To Myanmar?

Instead of only having dinner with Susu, I am also joined by two Swiss, Roger and Mireille. We have a nice evening in a restaurant, which ends suddenly when Mireille has an attack of stomach problems. It is time for us to leave anyway, we are the only ones left. On Wednesday morning I walk to the consulate to retrieve my passport, when I return I meet Roger & Mireille on their way out. I quickly get my bag and together we go for a breakfast after which we leave for the bus station. We miss our stop and when walking back I notice someone trying to pickpocket from Mireille's bag with a pair of tweezers. I grab the guy in his neck and make sure he has not stolen anything and push him away. At the bus station we search for a bus to go to the proper Dali and when we have that confirmed we buy the tickets and embark. After four and half hour we are surprised to find out the bus does not go further then the wrong Dali. We try for 15 minutes to have our bus ticket for the rest of the trip paid for by the chauffeur, but of course no results. Mireille even goes to the police, but although our ticket indicates the other Dali, the police officer says we are wrong. So we end up paying for the additional 17 km ride, which is only 1.5 RMB. When the bus arrives I get a very warm and loud welcome, 2 of the 3 girls I met in Lijiang are in the bus. After missing the proper bus stop again we walk to the Old Dali Inn (No. 5) where I have left most of my stuff. When checking in I am surprised by Mart, a Dutch guy I met in Almaty. He has arrived just an hour before me from Lijiang. One of the girls insists of showing her hotel room to me and together with Mart, Mireille and Roger we have look after which we have dinner and drinks together. I had planned to leave the nineth, but at the breakfast I decide I to stay another day. During the day I take it easy, I sew ribbons on the panniers so I can tie them to the bike to prevent them from getting in to my wheels. At night Mart and I walk back to our courtyard and find 2 Japanese and 2 Chinese drinking wine and beer. We are invited to join. Around 2 I go to bed, the plan is still to leave in the morning Mart and a Japanese guy stay out side but soon go to bed when one of the employees gets very angry about the noise we have been making. I thought we were rather quiet, must have been the beer then.In the morning I pack my bags, I then realize I have no clue where I left my only key, the key to my bikelock. I unpack everything to no avail. I repack everything, I wil just have to cut my lock. My eye falls on my wallet, in which I find my key. Sometimes I am more organised than I expect. After breakfast and saying goodbye to the Swiss, Mart and some others I have met, I climb up my bike and ride south. In the wrong Dali I try to exchange some of my Euro travelerscheques into USD. The woman behind the counter is angry with me because the cheques are in such a bad shape, she changes them anyway, not into USD but into RMB. She says that it is not possible, great, could she not have said this before changing? She tells me only a local can change the RMBs into USD. I ask some people in the bank to change it for me and I offer them 50 RMB for it. Eventually I am told not to bother the customers and I leave. I had expected to have some leisurely cycling to Ruili, the town I want to cross the border, this is a slight misconception. I have to take the B-road and this one is not so well maintained and has much more climbs in it than the express way. Most of the second half of the day I am climbing. My frustration is that I am all the time 50 meters below the comb, but I never reach it. I am going up, but the mountains around me also.November 11th is again a tough day. I try to take it more easy though and decide to take a little siesta. The consequence of that and my little unplanned detour, is that I do not reach Baoshan today. I end up in a little village 30 km away of this bigger town. I order a huge meal, 3 dishes plus rice and when I am finished I am glad the owner offers me to stay above the restaurant, I am hardly capable of anything anymore. I do take apart my camera, because it has been acting funny during the day. I think sweat got into it and now it says it cannot read my cards. When I put it back together it is still not working great, but for 2 out of 3 cards it works. The 12th I am totally unmotivated to cycle and I park my bike in Baoshan for the day. Not before my bike is totally covered in mud. I had to go through a mud pool of at least 10 cm deep, so even my shoes are covered.Not far outside Baoshan I have to go down over a wet dirt road. The mud flies all around and on me. Worse is that both my panniers go into the wheel and both need to be repaired. First the thread breaks and on the next stitch the needle breaks. I ask one of the women working on their little water service for trucks if she has a needle for me. I get three and a stronger thread. When I am done sewing I am invited to have dinner with them and when I leave I am offered two mandarins. Although I have only cycled 10 km until 13:00 I manage to do 95 at the end of the day and I had a new speed record, 51 seconds for a km. Not a bad day after all. The intention was to camp but I end up sleeping again in the restaurant I have dinner in. It is a dinner by candle light as there is no power.Finally cycling goes as I like it, more down than up and smooth. When I go off the road to have a quiet lunch break, all of a sudden I can move my handle bar in any direction without the front wheel changing direction. After closer inspection it becomes clear that the tube that connects the fork with the handlebar is broken. I am lucky again that this has not happened when I am going down the mountain with over 60 km an hour. After lunch I walk back to the road and first cycle slowly in the same direction I was going. After a couple of km I find a house and ask if I can weld my fork somewhere. The man tells me I best go back to the last village. In the village I take the front part of my bicycle apart and search for a welder. Soon he is found and on my instructions he repairs the fork. I am happy with the result and put my bike back together and get back to cycling. This night I do camp. I find a nice spot, next to a little stream surrounded by bamboo bushes far from the road.November 15th I finally reach Ruili. The day I arrive I don't do much useful, the next day I intend to arrange my guide to take me through the first 100 km of Myanmar, where I am not allowed to roam freely. To my surprise I cannot find any travelagent that arranges trips into Myanmar. I decide to go to the border in the hope I meet someone who can help me. I see a Jeep with the text "Beauty Myanmar" on it's side. I ask the chauffeur if he is a guide. He says he is not but he has a number for me, I can call when I am at the Myanmar side of the border and then this women will come to guide me. I thank him and cycle back to town. On my way back I am accompanied by a scooterist, who also speaks English. I ask him if he knows any travel agents that go into Myanmar. He brings me to a travel agent, but all they can give me is a number of a woman I can call when at the Birmese side of the border. At least I now have a number coming from two independent sources, it gives a little bit of comfort. After that I pay another visit to the bank of china to get USD. Again the same story, I can get EUR for my RMB. Again I end up asking locals to exchange the money for me. This time the story ends better. A woman calls a friend who is willing to change the money into USD against a decent rate. We make the exchange in the bank building. I hope the notes are not counterfeit. Tomorrow the plan is to go to the border and arrange for a guide (and permit?) there. If I cannot find any guide I might find some nice military people who want to take me through this zone, because I won't be able to go back to China.

Kunming

In the morning of the second I left, but not after changing the the tube of the rear tyre and having a dumpling breakfast. After cycling half an hour I arrive at a lake Andre and I had wished to visit, because of local Naxi villages, but could not find. Away from the lake the road goes up steep now and then, but fortunately not for long. The rest of the day it is going up and down, it feels like more up than down, though. At the end of the day I have a tough climb, but get instant reward with a nice descent in which I am faster than the bus. Around 17:30 I stop in village and the place I ask if there is a hotel around, turns out to be one. I carry my bike and luggage to my room and fall lazily on the bed, which I only leave to prepare my noodle soup with the thermo with hot water. The Godfather part 1 is showing on tv and I watch it until a power failure makes everything dark. Soon a generator is started, but I guess the satelite dish is not connected to it, so the screen remains blank. In the morning I try to set my saddle slightly higher, but is to stuck, so I give up. It is not that important, I 've been cycling with this setup for 5 months. The reason I want it higher is that one of my shins hurt and I think it might come from the position of my foot on the pedal. After a 20 km I have breakfast, eggplant and rice. A drawback of cycling on my own is that I can order less dishes. When with two I got more variety in the meals, because we could share. Still breakfast tastes good. At the end of the morning I reach the big lake Dali is lying on. I decide to take the eastern route, the big road goes west around the lake and is much better, but also much busier. The fishermen put their nets on the road full of shrimps (?) to dry. After cycling alongside the lake I see a ferry crossing the lake. I ask if also a ferry sails more south, the man does not seem to understand, at least the only visible reaction he gives is pointing at a sign which shows a few Chinese characters and 10 yuan price. I decide to read the few copied pages of the LP about this region I got of Andre. I find out that there are two Dali's and that I was heading to the wrong one. I already found it strange no ferries would go to this popular destination. I go back to the guy who was so helpfull earlier and try again if the 10 yuan is for crossing the lake. I get the impression it is and carry my bike 50 meters down, only to find out that the crossing is 130 yuan, apparently the 10 was only for entering the park. I say I already I have paid ten and that is all I am going to pay. Of course they do not understand a word I say. I take up my bike to indicate I will walk back up if they do not lower the price. Soon it is down to 50, still much to high but an improvement. We end up at 30, not a bargain, but I can live with it and it saves me a climb up and a 30km ride. Dali is a bit of a disappointment. I am comparing the city with Lijiang and it is in a totally different league. It is accustomed to tourists though, when I sit down on a bench a woman well above 50 in local dress comes to me and asks if I want hashies, a few moments later a slighly younger woman asks me the same. In the guesthouse are a lot of westerners. To one of them I lend my bike the next day. I only leave on Sunday to Kunming and I do not feel like cycling. When I get the bike back the handlebar is very loose again, but I will deal with that when I am back from Kunming. After a five hour bus ride I reach Kunming where I take my stay in the Camellia hotel, I had read the Birmese consulat was there at well and that would save me a lot of walking. Ofcourse the information is not accurate, but with some help of the girl at the reception I am able to easily find it. I find Kunming a rather boring city, but in the hostel I do meet a Swiss girl I was sharing a room with in Dali and we have dinner together monday evening. She has started cycling to Vietnam today. Tonight I will have dinner with a very beautiful Birmese girl. She would prefer I would not visit Birma because of the regime. She and her family are politically active, which has not made their life easier, she had to flee Birma and her father is in jail. Although I feel more guilty now, I still intend to go.

Gorgious Leaping Tiger

We had planned to visit 2 famous lakes not far from Zhongdian on our way south. When we arrive at the gate (!) we find out that we have to pay 180 RMB and we can only go by bus. We do not want to pay the fee and we do not want to go by bus either. Arguments are to no avail, so we turn around and continue cycling. A few km further, in the next valley we try to follow a muddy path that might also take us to the lakes. After half an hour we give up our attempt, the path got worse/disappeared and eventually we would have to climb the surrounding hills and return to the road. Although we end the day at an altitude of 2800 m, we have also climbed 1300 m. The 26th we have a short day to the tiger leaping gorge, with a 20 km long descent. The 45 km which we thought it would be turned out 70 but still the higher temperature and oxygen level because of the lower altitude make it a nice ride. We stay at Sean's Guest House which is packed with cyclists. Two groups made it their stop. They are on a guided tour through Yunnan by bike. Jealously Andre and I watch how their bikes are cleaned and repaired for them. Our bikes would like this treatment as well, but we are just happy we can relax and just put them on the balcony, at least they have a great view on the gorge. Our clothes are more lucky as we decide to give them a short wash. In the evening the guides of the groups organise a quiz, Andre and I join Kristin to form a team. We don't do well, but probably it did not help we lost the paper with the answers of the 1st round.The next day we climb to a waterfall and although the gorge is a popular destination we do not meet any tourists on our climb up. Later we go all the way down to the Jiangtse. From the guest house it looks like a docile little river, but at the water level the power and force become very clear and now it is only carrying half the water is does during the monsoon. The local families have created the path down to the river and want to be compensated. The annoying thing is that when I am almost at the bottom, they come with their claim. Reluctantly I pay 10 RMB. We decide to take a different route up and we are surprised we are stopped for the second time, by a different family with a demand of an extra donation of 10 RMB. We say we already have paid and think that it has been enough. They won't let us pass and we sit down to wait. Of course we can ever win a contest on patience, these people have all the time in the world, so in the end we come to a compromise and pay half. It is not that we cannot miss the money, but I think they should have charged us at the beginning once. Now it could be possible every hundred meters someone asks us for money. Around 11 at night a row starts under our balcony, at first it is just yelling, but when a woman's voice cries out she has been hit I jump out of bed and go down to see to it that there will be no fighting. I am surprised to find the owner of the guesthouse, Sean, with a stick on one side of a table and a woman hiding on the other side. I put myself between Sean and the woman while the shouting goes on. After 10 minutes the danger of any violence seems gone and freezing, I was just in my shorts, I turn back to bed. I should have taken the stick from Sean, but the next day I hear that someone coming from the toilet did, after which the woman went to bed also. The woman turned out to be Sean's wife and said she would report it to the police.A few of the cyclists have warned us for the deep descent to the river for the ferry and advised us to have our stuff to be carried up and down. On the way down we manage to stay in the saddle and roll/cycle down. When taken across, the ferrymen offer to take our luggage on a horse for 20 RMB, leaving us only to push up our bikes. I am glad we were not so stubborn that we insisted on pushing everything up, it was tough enough with just the bike. This was not the hardest of the day, after a few km of dirt road, the road turns in cobbled stones and at the same time goes up from 1900 m to 3500 m. The larger part of the rest of the day we climb, averaging about 5 km an hour. When we finally reach the top and the end of the stones we have a little cheer. Unfortunately the stones turn up again when we go down, spoiling the going down party. When I make a stop to put some human fertilizer on the barren ground I slip and slide down a couple of meters, I manage to get hold of a branch an get some grip with the rest of my body, preventing a 200 m slide down. A bit shaken and scratched I make an other attempt to improve the soil on slightly safer grounds. The plan was to reach Lijiang today but we are both a bit tired and decide to camp. We cycle into a little forest until we are stopped by a little river 10 m below. We are still contemplating if and how we are going to cross over the trunk, when a police car arrives. We both expect to be told to not camp here, but they are just worried about us, and tell us it is a dangerous area. We say we are alright, but get the telephone number of the policeman. We rather had had the telephone number of the beautiful policewoman, which would have made more sense anyway as she was the one speaking English. When the police leaves we carry over our stuff, item by item. At night I put my woolen sweater at my feet to get them a little bit above the cold ground. I hope this prevents me from getting cold feet. The next morning I awake with warm feet, so my little experiment has worked. Unfortunately the trunk over the river is still frozen, so too slippery to cross. We wait half an hour for most of the ice to melt and then move our stuff in a joint action back to the other side. After a short climb it is all the way down to Lijiang. Did it take 7 hours to do 35 km yesterday, now we easily do it within the hour. In Lijiang we find a guest house right in the centre of the old town for decent price. From Lijiang Andre is going to Beijing by plane and I will be going south to Dali, but before it is time to part we stay a few days in the touristic town. I get my extension on my visa in only five minutes, without any requirement of additional information. I also have the fork of my bike repaired, which was almost broken and in the process have the cables on my front break replaced. We also finally find the energy to give the bikes a well deserved cleaning. On November 1 Andre leaves for Beijing, I stay for the night and will depart for Dali the next day.

Passing out?

October 18th becomes a rest day. On the evening before, when I head for the huge monastery complex I am spotted by Enrique. He and Chele have arrived much later than they had told me they would. Enrique says he is waiting for a swiss guy they met earlier, who probably will arrive the next day. This gives me time to rest a bit, do some shopping and visit the monastery. The 19th we meet at 9 to have breakfast, unfortunately Chele is not feeling well and is not capable of cycling. Enrique decides to stay with his wife. The Swiss guy, Andre and I decide to get going, but not after a decent breakfast of potato pancakes. It is close to 11 when we finally mount our bikes. Andre's natural speed is close to mine, so we cycle together for the whole road, this in contrast with Chele and Enrique where we waited for each other at certain points. At the end of the afternoon we pass the first pass at 4696m. At the top we put on our gloves and hats (I have bought mine in Litang) and head down. The next pass is showing is already visible. We do not feel like climbing much more for the day, so we decide to set op camp on the plain in between the passes. We push our bikes for about a quarter of an hour and pitch the tent behind a huge boulder, so we cannot be seen from the road. When Andre sets up the tent I gather dry yakshit and branches for the campfire. We do not have much water so we limit us to eat only 3 noodle soups for dinner. It takes some effort to get the shit properly burning, the first half an hour it mainly creates a lot of smoke, but after that, it burns well and gives a lot of heat.
The next morning the tent is frozen, we wait with packing it till the sun enters the valley to defrost it and us. When back on the road we have to start climbing right away but fortunately we have not descended to much the previous day, so we reach the pass relatively easily. The pass is actually more a large plain with little lakes. The wind is not helping us today as it is against us, so even on the way down we have to peddle. At noon we reach Sangdui, where we have a delicious meal, although they forget to serve the cauliflower dish. Still the rice, chicken dish and the spinach dish are more than enough. Just outside Sangdui the road goes up to the next pass, at 4800m. The climb is very steep and we have to take several stops before we get there. Andre had read somewhere that some guys had done the same route as us to Xiangzhan (never sure about town names in China, so could be different) in one day, so we think we should be able to do that as well. We learn again that passes always appear closer by than they really are. When you think only two hairpins and then finally down you discover after one hairpin that the road goes up for an other few corners and then still it is further than you think. When we finally make it we go down in quick. In no time we have lost 1700 m of hard fought for altitude. At 19:00, it already is dark we finally reach Xiangzhan. We are welcomed by Chele who has taken the bus from Litang, Enrique has decided to cycle but has left one day after us. Today we have cycled nett 8 hours and covered 129 km, not a bad day, but we are totally exhausted. Andre finds out that the guys he read of had taken a different route and went to a different town altogether.
The 21st becomes a rest day again. Andre and I visit the monastery and after that we pick up Chele to have breakfast. A large part of the afternoon we lie down on a field in the middle of farmers working the land with yaks and plough.
The next morning we leave at 8, without Chele who decides to wait for Enrique. The first 22m are leisurely down, but then the real stuff starts. We have to climb to a pass that is at 85 km from where we departed over an unpaved road. The first part is not so bad, but when we reach the proper altitude we are only 50 km away from Xiangzhan, still 35 m to go of up and down over horrible roads with again strong head wind. With our last bit of strength we reach the pass slightly after 18:00. It is could and windy, after a few pictures and putting on some warm clothes, we go down as fast as possible. The road is still unpaved and has huge holes though, so we have to be careful. Soon it becomes dark, but we have not seen a proper place to camp. We decide to go down in walking pace with Andre leading, as he has a little light to guide us until the next village. After 5 km we see a house and lucky us it is a binguan (hotel) and are welcomed. We get a nice meal for 22RMB are invited for beers and can sleep for free.
In the morning upon leaving I discover my rear tire is empty. I pump it up in the hope it stays hard. I feel no rapid decrease in hardness and we cycle of. At noon we stop for lunch. While Andre prepares the noodle soup I repair the tube, which has a tiny puncture at the rim side. Probably got a few hard hits when I was going down fast through a hole. On the way down one of my panniers gets a few times into the wheel. Not a big problem, but the seam lets loose and soon there is a gap of 30 cm, I decide to sew it at th spot and in 15 minutes all is repared. At 18:00 we find a nice camping spot at the river. Dry wood in abundance so we have another campfire after we have eaten our noodle soup. Andre has a nice treat. He still has a bar of Swiss chocolate, which we wolf away.
Although we are at lower altitude in the morning it is freezing. With hat and gloves we eat our breakfast; hot water mixed with powder yak milk, sugar, porridge and some left over moon cookies. Delicious, when hungry. The ice cold fingers and toes do not stop us from going up a mountain again. It should be an easy day, Shangrila should not be far a way. Still the bad road prevents that we get there without any effort (the road to heaven is not to be known easy anyway;-). We decide we have earned a proper shower and some luxury, so we check in a relatively expensive hotel. When I unload I notice my luggage carrier is broken. I screw it loose and go to a place where they can weld it. It takes some time, but when found it is done in 10 seconds for no charge. Now it is time for a well deserved and needed shower.
At night, just when I am in bed the phone rings, someone is talking to me in Chinese. I tell the person in Dutch I do not understand a thing of it and hang up. A few minutes later, someone knocks on the door. I open in my shorts to find two girls there. One enters immediately and tells the other to follow. The first talks a lot but I have no idea where she is talking about. All becomes clear when she shifts to sign language. She makes the international sign for sexual intercourse. I ask Andre if he has any interest in one of them, but Andre is already half a sleep and is hardly aware what is going on. I push both girls out of the room and go to sleep. I see the girls the next morning again, they must work in the hotel, the question is as what?

To Litang

The first night after leaving Chengdu, I do not find a decent place to stay. The road is enclosed in between the mountains and where there would have been space to set up camp, people have their houses, gardens and land. I finally find a rope bridge that seems to lead to an unoccupied piece of flat ground. After pushing my bike over the bridge and up the slippery hill, I find a nice spot, where I can spend the night. Soon the night falls and I see some tiny lights. At first I think someone is coming from far with a little torch, but soon I realise they are fireflies, the first time I see them. Soon after it starts to rain, but my tent is set up well and all inside stays dry. After a while my shoulder gets cold and I find out that one of the seems in the tarp is leaking. Fortunately I can put my raincape over that part over the tent, which stops the leaking.
The day starts with one and a half hour climbing, before I reach a very long tunnel (Erlangshan tunnel) after which I go down for 15km. It is nice to go down, but frustrating at the same time, when you know later you will have to climb again. Still going down for me is the reward for climbing. After lunch I proceed to Kanding, but although not to far I have used most of my energy already and the almost non-stop rising road pushes me to the limit. At the end of the afternoon I reach the town, where I start to search for a budget hotel. After 2 hours of searching the cheapest hotel I found is 80RMB. May be for European standards not expensive, in China it would be my most expensive overnighting. I cannot find a cheaper one and as it already is dark (I do not want to cycle outside a city after dark) I go back to that hotel. It is very luxurious, I have my own bathroom and hot shower with water also coming from the side.
The next morning I continue with what I have been doing the day before, climbing. Five hours after I have left Kanding I reach the pass at 4298m. At this hight you cannot miss there is much less oxygen. everything I do, I'll try to do as slowly as possible to not get out of breath. I hang around the pass for a while. People want to be with me in a picture. It carresses my ego that people ask to be in a picture with me, so I am happy to pose. After a while it starts snowing, which is for me the sign to search for warmer places i.e. go down. Uptill now the road was pretty good, but halfway down the road gets to apalling quality, shaking my bones and bike. The shaking also makes my pedal problem reappear, but with the nail and a stone this is soon fixed. In the meantime I am surrounded by a group of women. Communicating is hard but I manage to get their address so I can send the picture by mail (I hope that the thing they wrote is their address). When I ask them where I can eat they point down the road, so I peddle on till I am in a town where they even have 2 restaurants and a guesthouse. I had enough for the day so I decide to stay for the night. After dinner I am invited to the home of an old man to eat some more. Always hungry I join him and finish the day with a bottle of beer.

My cycling buddies Chele and Enrique were headed for Litang as well. They had counted they arrived there the tenth, but I figure they might have miscalculated the distance too. On the 17th I cycle 10km when I reach a decent town. I have figured out that I will not reach Litang in the next three days if I keep on cycling so I decide to take a bus, to have some chance to hook up with Chele and Enrique. The only available spots in the bus are right at the end and I soon find why. At every bump, I am catapulted into the air. At several occasions my head hits the ceiling (40 cm higher than my head). The worse ones are the doubble bumps where, when landing you are immediatly are shot up again. The forces are that large (and the material that weak) that a seat in the row before me breaks under the pressure. Halfway I manage to secure a seat in the front of the bus, which makes the world of a difference.a> Late in the afternoon I reach Litang, with my kidneys still on the right spot.

Chengdu again

On monday morning I go to the trainstation to get a trainticket back to Chengdu for the next day. I of course could have done that much earlier, but my motto still seems to be "never do today what you can do tomorrow". Everytime when this strategy does not give the best results, I am determined to do things as early as I can, next time. I buy a ticket, even a sleeper, but only top bunks are available. Those are less desirable, because first you can not look out of the window and second the ceiling is very low, which makes sitting up impossible. I had planned to go to the Thai embassy, to inquire about entry points, but postpone that till when I am in Kunming, which seems early enough.

On the next day, I finally can get back my passport, hopefully with the required sticker and stamps. I secretely hope they will let the extension start on the 10th, but no such luck. It starts at where the previous one ended, so I will have to extend again the 30th. When I have my passport I head to the maglev station, which is only 2 stops away with the subway. I take a 2-way ticket to the airport which we reach in about 6 minutes, I take the same train back as I have nothing to do on the airport. So after 15 minutes I am back at where I started, 80RMB poorer and more experienced in riding trains. At night Marieke and I have dinner for the last time in our regular restaurant. In the train I want to update my journal, but my new book does not allow the 2 ballpoints put their ink in it. The other thing to do besides sleeping is working on my shirt and repairing my panniers. The people always find it very funny when I are stitching my stuff, this time they try to give me advise. I do not follow it, I have my own technique and I am happy with it. The second evening I am invited to share a bottle of disgusting Chinese liquor. After half a bottom it does not taste that bad or I do not taste anymore. In the wagon are two deaf girls and communication goes best with them, they are used to sign language and do not rattle on in Chinese to me. Instead we do a lot of pictionary. One of the girl warns me not to drink to much, she probably knows it is shit. People seem to like me, I get all sorts of food and drinks offered, this when they were making fun of me earlier, with pointing at me and then laughing. It may be because they think I am very poor, walking around in clothes which are falling apart and then repairing them.

In Chengdu I go back to the hostel where I stayed before. This was a rather smart thing to do, as I had left my bike and luggage there. Fortunately they still are, although it takes me half an hour to retrieve my backpack. I had planned to stay a while in Chengdu to at least see the pandas, but now I decide to leave the next day. I feel a little bit rushed. I have only 16 days before I have to reextend my visa and I figure I only can do that in a big city. But it might take me longer to reach one, considering I will go west into the mountains. Besides I sleep horrible in the hostel, now two Chinese hold a snore contest, which the man closest to the door wins by a narrow margin. In the morning at 5 a totally smashed boy comes in and right away falls a sleep on the last vacant bed. He does not snore, but he is wearing his shoes, which are covered in shit. The room smells awful, so at 6 I get up, pack my bags and leave.

Shanghai

In the weekend, after finishing visa business, we stroll through the centre. We are not the only ones, it probably is the most crowded weekend in the year. October first the birth of communistic China is celebrated and it seems all Chinese want to do this on Nanjing road. I can still look over the masses as the average Chinese reaches till my shoulder. During the week Marieke has to work hard on her graduation project and I have to entertain myself. Usually we have lunch together at 11:30 and we meet at 18:30 to find a place to dine. On wednesday I finally buy new shoes and throw away my huge boots. When I return to the campus I head straight for the football pitch with artificial grass. It already is crowded, with lots of people with balls. Two games are played on half a field. Initially I stand at the side line trying to pick up some loose balls, to show I am not a total moron with the ball. It takes to long before I am invited so I ask people if they speak English. After a few negative answers or shrugs with shoulders I find someone to converse with. We end up passing eachother the ball and when his team is up for playing a game I am invited to join. Each teams stands until the opposing team scores against them. We win the first match, but I can not prevent that the next team scores against us. I can not enjoy any rest, I am invited to play with the new team, which I gladly accept. By this time I already have a huge blister on the heel of my left foot. After 3 games won we are swapped with the third team, but in five minutes we are called to duty again. Most of us are still tired and soon we are defeated. After two and a half hour playing we call it a day. Now my foot realy hurts and my upperlegs soon are stiff, I feel and move like an old man.

There is no time to shower or change clothes, I have to meet Dave, from Urumqi, at People's square exit 1 at seven. Dave is already waiting and together with Marieke we head on Dave's advice to a Japanese restaurant. Although relative expensive, we enjoy a wonderfull meal. Dave has just returned from Japan and orders the dishes. We had to pay 3 times 98RMB and got all we could eat and drink. The different dishes keep on coming, one even more delicious than the other. The (Japanese) beer and prune(?) wine also taste great. Besides enjoying the food it is great to see Dave again. When finished, we take the taxi home, subway stops running quite early.

The next morning I feel much more older than the one day I have aged since the day before. I hardly can get out of my bed. Wearing my left shoe is killing, to day will be a day I will definitely do/walk not much. In the evening I manage to pull my body to a nearby restaurant where I am invited by Marieke to dine with her student colleagues. The bill is paid by the professor, although not present. I am Dutch enough to show up at something for free. Before going to Starbucks to have some coffee in town, spending all the saved money again, Marieke puts on someting warmer and I meet Qiqi, a law student. She wants to be in a picture with me, to which I do not object. She is so kind to send it to me later. On the way back from town I take of my shoes and walk on my socks, giving my heel a little rest and in the meantime spreading the hideous odour coming from my feet. If you hear of an environmental disaster in Shanghai, you know where it came from.

Visa, never easy

The busride from Zoige takes longer than I expect. I had hoped to arrive in Chengdu at three in the afternoon so I could get my visa extension even the same day. This was a slightly to optimistic view. When the sun starts to set I am finally able to disembark from the bus. I take out my bike and the wheels. Early in the morning in the pooring rain I had been trying to put my bike into the cargospace, with initially no succes. Almost al space was occupied and people kept putting in their huge bags. No one wanted to help me, but I was determined to keep on pushing and moving stuff until my bike was in. When I took of the wheels, fortunately my wrench was in one of my side pockets of my backpack, I managed to get everything in after reshuffling for 5 minutes. When finally I have my bicycle reassembled and my by bags strapped to it, it already is dark. I ask some bystanders where the centre is and start cycling in the direction indicated. After 1 hour I still have not reached it, I get the impression I am cycling round it. Then I find a guy who indicates he will get his bicycleto lead me to the centre. After a few minutes he returnes and 15 minutes later I am on the central square of Chengdu. Dave had advised me to stay at Hollies Hostel, the problem was that I did not have the address. My brother came to the rescue, he responds quickly on my request and after asking several locals I end up at the desired spot. I inquire how long it will take to get my visa extension and if I still can get a train ticket to Shanghai? With both answers I am not happy. According to the girl behind the counter (Holly?) says it takes five workingdays to get a visa extension and that there are no traintickets to Shanghai to coming week. After the good news I decide to have some breakfast, lunch and dinner. When I return to the hostel I am invited by two Americans to drink a couple of beers in the cafe on the 3rd floor. Later a Dutch couple joins us for a while. When there is no beer left at 2 we decide to search for our beds.

After breakfast with the 2 Americans, I take the bus to the trainstation to verify the girls claim. Halfway the ride a chinese girl indicates that I should switch to an other bus and just when I have done so, the bus refuses to start. Together with 2 others I push the bus and after a couple of tries the engine is working again. At the trainstation I am overwhelmed by the number of people queuing up. I estimate 2000 chinese are waiting for the 34 ticketboxes. One, number 11, has a sign "For Foreign guest" and I queue up. One and a half hour later I am served and to my surprise I can get on the next train and I have the option to get a hard sleeper. I promptly pay and hurry back to the hostel. The train will leave in one and a half hour and my hostel is on the other side of town. An hour later I am back on the station. I do not like taking taxis but this time I make use of them and fortunately they step on it.

I soon discover that a hard sleeper is much more comfortable than the hard seat. The 38 hour journey will, not even remotely be as hard as the 20 hour trip to Lanzhou earlier. It is a pity, however that the man sleeping in the bed next to me is snoring like there is no tomorrow. The windows are trembling in their slots everytime he breaths in. It is not till very early I finally fall a sleep. I kill time by working on my guru shirt, the number of holes do not seem to diminish though and reading the last part of my book of Jules Verne. The second morning, September 29, I arrive in Shanghai. Although Marieke has advised me to take subway line 1 and 2, I think I know better and I take line 3. For a change I am right and I text Marieke, she can pick me up at Zongshan Park, when she likes.

In the afternoon we go to a PSB for my visa. When we finally find it, a doormen shows us a note which says I have to go to a different place. It already is close to 16:30 so we take a taxi to get me there before the weekend (and the week holiday) starts. I am swiftly served but apparantly I need a yellow registration form, before they will process my request, fortunately they are also open the next day and my visa seems to be still valid on that day. This form is to be got at the local police office. Although the woman behind the counter assures me it is simple to acquire, the next day this statement proves to be a little beside the truth. After going back and forth to the policestation with different people and documentation, we give up to try to have Mariekes appartment as the place I stay. I end up renting a room in a hotel, where without any problem I get my yellow registration form. We hurry to 1500 Mingsheng road, where now without problems my case is accepted. I can pick up my passport on the 10th!! Because I only had a visa for one month, they are not willing to extend it with more than that, meaning that within 20 days after receiving my extension I will have to reapply for the last time.

Langmusi

21st September we get going again. We cycle through a region where we have to pay an entrance fee to get in. After a few km we get of the paved road and onto a smoothly rising dirt road. We now have entered the world of the yak and sheep. Along the road we have seen so many sheep being slaughtered and we wondered where all the sheep come from, now we know. Around lunchtime we are invited to have lunch with a Tibetan at his tent. 500m from the road surrounded by yaks, sheep, pigs and little Tibetan kids, we get dry bread and butter in hot water. Not the best lunch ever, but company is worth something as well. Just when we are searching for a proper place to camp we are invited by a Tibetan on a motorcycle to eat and sleep with him. Halfway (?) his home he overtakes us and we are not able to find him again. We decide to have dinner in the village and then cycle a few km back to camp.

In the morning we are nearly over run by a herd of sheep. In the town after breakfast, I do an investment in my travel gear by buying panniers. All of my stuff still fitted in or on my backpack, but while cycling this hardly is accessible. With the panniers I really start to look like a proper cyclist. Later in a bigger city I want to have a rack constructed for the front wheel, so I can put them there, having a better weight distribution. Today we end up in a very small town, with to our surprise a decent hotel. In the evening we are invited in the owners house and I get a lesson Tibettan from one of the daughters.

The next day we reach Langmusi. Underway we stop at an Tibettan festival, nothing much happens. A lot of Tibettan families are sitting on the grass. It is more a social event I guess, after waiting an hour for something to happen I get going again. Chele and Enrique already had left. Langmusi is a very touristic town and although there are some nice buddhist and moslim buildings, the atmosphere is somewhat spoilt by the scores of white people walking by. At the same time it is nice to meet fellow travelers though. Sunday is a rainy day and we fill the day by writing, reading, washing and I of course work on my never ending project, my guru shirt. In the evening I say goodbye to Chele and Enrique, I am going to try to go to Shanghai to visit Marieke. For that I take the bus at 7 the next morning. On the way down from a pass we almost turnover. The mud road is so slippery that first we move sideways and then tilt dangerously to my side. Fortunately nothing happens and we continue to Zoige. I had hoped to get a connecting bus to Chengdu, but the only one leaves at 6 in the morning, which means I will stay the night in this boring town. That is why I am updating my blog I guess.

Xiahe

In Xiahe I do not much but eating, sleeping and hanging around. It is a great place for it though. In Xiahe the streets are dominated by monks and people in rough Tibetan clothes. The faces of the people look battered by sun and cold. Tomorrow we will start cycling again, we are heading south.
The monastary.

This old lady makes an attempt to spin all 1200 prayerwheels at the monastary.







The guesthouse we stay is, apart from us, only populated by locals, these two people are my neighbours. We have taken some dry wood from them to light the stoves in our rooms. Unfortunately my stove was leaking, so all my things smell to smoke now, which is probably an improvement. This morning I tried to shower in an other guesthouse by giving the impression I stayed there. No problems emerged, but the water was freezing cold. I felt not so brave to jump under.

These 2 monks and the monkey in the middle were photographed by a third monk. The camera always is a great tool to make contact.

Company

September 12th I buy a trainticket to Lanzhou. The train only departs at 1:45 at night so I have plenty of time to explore Hami. I am still not sure how I will bring my bike, but I am sure that will be clear later on. I arrive early at the station and I am indicated to go to an office to check in my bike. No one speaks English but after half an hour I have some tags on my bike and some receipt in my pocket. I hope they do not forget to put my bike on the train.

I am seated in the class hard-seated which is the lowest class. The seating is the same as in the African busses, 3 chairs left of the aisle and 2 to the right. Fortunately I am next to the aisle, so I can stretch my legs a little. Still I do not manage to sleep more than 15 minutes in a row and in the morning I do not know how to sit anymore. In the morning more people get of the train than and after a while I can put my legs on the opposing chair, allowing me to properly rest for a while. At 19:30 the train arrives in Lanzhou. When I go to the office to pick up my bike I meet Enrique and Chele a Spanish/Argentinian couple who also are cycling. They also were on the train but were so lucky to acquire hard-sleepers. They are going to stay at a hotel near the station and we agree to share a room, but first I have to pick up my bike. What I already feared has happened, my bike has not come on the train. I am assured though that it will arrive the same night at 3.

The three of us search for a hotel and manage the get a room for 50 RMB for the 3 of us. In the early morning I fetch my bike so we can cycle the same day in the direction of Xiahe. However we decide to postpone departure with one day and recuperate from the trainride and do some chores.

I do not know why they really do it, but on several spots they put straw or other grasslike materials on the road. May be they want it just to dry or it might be that they want to have it crushed by passing traffic. In the last case my bike is not of much help, although I am eating a lot lately.

It is not only my bike that needs constant attention, also the bikes of my fellow cyclists once in a while need some at the road repairs. Here Chele's bike gets its steering secured, an action I am not unfamiliar with as my bike has a habbit of loosening the bolts on my steering. Later Enriques bike got a problem with a wobbly pedal, not unsimular my pedal problems.

As can be seen is my technique slightly less sophisticated, but uptill now I manage to tighten the bolt for a couple of km. The longer I hammer the longer it sticks. May be in Xiahe I find a decent cycle repairshop to get rid of the problem for a long time.

Just a sorry attempt to catch the beauty of the views. If you really want to know how beautiful it is, you have to go your self I am afraid or find some one who can make decent pictures.


With our maps with Chinese characters we were almost always able to ask for the proper directions, only when leaving Lanzhou on the September 15th we are directed to a different town then we wished. Everything worked out quite fine and we think the route turned out for the better. At least we were cycling over a road not much travelled with great views.

The monastary is a few km from the road, at first it annoys me that the monk who invited us, underestimated the time to cycle there so much, but when we arrive I am happy we went.

We had anticipated to reach Xiahe on the 17th but rain and problems getting up early the last few days, make that we search refuge in a monastary for the night. The place we sleep is very luxurious, with satelite tv, dvd, a stove and nice wooden floors.





The next day we only have 40km ride left to Xiahe and although the sky looks like rain we manage to arrive with only a few drops hitting us. We check in a guesthouse near the famous monastary. It does not have shower facilities, which makes Enrique and I decide to built one in the courtyard with my tarp and some ropes. All goes well until Chele takes a shower. The wind suddenly picks up and the tarp almost blows away. Enrique comes to the rescue of his wife before she is left in the courtyard only covered in soap.