Posts Tagged ‘China’


It’s a different China. This morning I left my holiday yurt, climbed into the heavens, and dropped down onto wide, open plains, with snow-capped mountains in the distance, and void of people. With the wind at my back, I rolled along these endless plains, feeling free and happy in this beautiful place.

The high plains

The high plains

You can see for miles – in fact more than 20 kilometres. This is a photo looking back at the previous photo.

The High Plains

The High Plains

The plains roll on in all directions for-ever. Leaving the road you could walk until you are a dot, invisible from the road. Slowly, I climbed on the plains, and they turned into a high yurt valley – but this time real yurts – not the holiday yurts below. The plains are flat, and a fence lines the road, making a secret camp challenging. My tent is in view of the road, in a tiny dip, next to a small river.

Frosty camping spot

Frosty camping spot

View from the high pass

View from the high pass

Summit monument

Summit monument


I squat, pants removed, over the hole in the cement. As the first shit spatters out with a burst, my neighbour leans forward and looks at me around the chest-high dividing partition.
‘Where are you from?’
My next brown package explodes out.
‘Germany. By bike.’
I get the thumbs-up (with pants down).

River

River

And so the conversation goes. I am quite proficient at it now in Chinese. From Germany. Yes. 15000km. 10 months. Via Turkey, Iran and Kazakhstan. Australia. 2 years. Worked at Philips. About $10000 (amount I have spent up to now). Today my story brought me an invitation to a picnic on the river with bread and honey from the local stall. A lovely couple from Urumqi with 2 small children invited me to join them.

Picnic friends

Picnic friends

This morning, before I was allowed to leave the hotel, my passport had to be shown to the police again. It’s stressful – you aren’t allowed to camp, and usually, you can’t stay in a hotel either. Other cyclists that had tried my planned route had been turned back by the police, and so I was nervous approaching the police checkpoint at the turnoff. My fluorescent vest removed, all filming equipment hidden, I was luckily part of a massive crowd of people that were being waved through. Still, no hotels for me on this stretch of road, lest I be taken to the police and turned back.

Cycling up the river my mood changed. It was not flat, hot, busy and boring, but rather, I was following a lovely forested valley with a beautiful raging river. The river abounded with lots of beautiful flat places to pitch a tent away from view of the road, and so my hopes were high. I planned to camp just before the road left the river to wind its way over the pass. Unfortunately, holiday yurt developers had the same idea. The last 10km before was wall-to-wall yurt – a bit like the Spanish Mediterranean coast but Chinese style. Then it started to rain. I would risk it. I asked some yurt owners if I could stay in the yurt. They were only boys, and probably don’t know about reporting tourists to the police. Yes. I could pitch my tent behind a yurt for free, or stay in one for 150 yuan. With the rain getting heavier, a yurt it was.


The people here are wonderful – I’ve been showered with happy faces and gifts. On the other hand, like Iran, this is a state ruled by the iron fist. Again my hotel looked a bit shaky after a police station visit. I am only passing through. The people that live here have to endure this indefinitely.

Unity of the people

Unity of the people

Every kilometre or so I pass by a bright red sign with yellow script. I had a bash at translating one – it was all about unity and solidarity of the people. The signs were about as frequent as the two heads in Iran, and the president in Tajikistan. They were everywhere.

Just in front of a red sign, I was stopped by a good-looking young man I had smiled at a kilometre back down the road. He had hopped on his motor scooter and gave me a bottle of water. I was handed another bottle of water out of the window of a passing car. I was given some watermelon by two kids who were at the same melon stall as me. I was given a new cap, towel and two cobs of cooked corn at my lunch stop. And I was given all sorts of different fruits when getting some fruit for dinner. Lovely lovely people.

Melon stall

Melon stall

Gift showerers

Gift showerers

Fruit gifts

Fruit gifts

I found a hotel, put my bike in the room, and went with the hotel manager to the police station. (He wanted to take my passport there himself. I said I would come with him.) I could sense it coming (I understood a lot of what they were saying at the police station.) I wasn’t allowed to stay in that hotel, or indeed any hotel in the village. I needed to go 25km to a different village where there was a foreigner hotel. Then the, now standard, phone call with the English speaker confirmed my suspicions. I played the same card as yesterday – ‘I’m tired, it’s late, and I can’t cycle further. I just want to sleep.’
Mm. Some police websites were opened, some protocol documents checked, and then, amazingly, I could go. I was allowed to sleep at my non-foreigner hotel. All this is getting tiring, though. I think tomorrow I’ll be sleeping hidden in my tent.


‘You should change hotels.’
It was 20:30, and I was going up to my room for the night.
‘Why?’ I asked in Chinese. ‘Are foreigners not allowed to stay in this hotel?’ (also in Chinese).
No, that was not the problem. When the explanation came in Chinese, I stared blankly. ‘Wo ting bu dong.’ (I don’t understand.)
An English speaker was phoned to help me understand.
‘Maybe the hotel is too old, and I want a better one,’ she suggested.
‘I just want to sleep,’ I replied. ‘I’m tired.’
‘Ahhh,’ came the reply. ‘You want to sleep?? Hand the phone back to the woman at the front desk.’
I was allowed to stay.
Chinese logic at it’s most incomprehensible.

Free gift

Free gift

The hotel is an hour hotel (or o’clock hotel as they call it). The one last night was too. An hour in the hotel is only a few yuan less that the whole night. I must say, I am impressed with the Chinese approach to these hour hotels. In the one last night, they had lots of posters with doctors and nurses wearing the AIDS red ribbon, and posters promoting the use of condoms. They seemed to be part of a safe sex health campaign. In the hotel tonight, they had two free condoms in the bathroom.

Still, I wonder why I was asked to change hotels. Maybe the people at the reception thought that I might be woken by orgasmic cries in the night. Or maybe my conservative and puritan self might be shocked by my fellow hotel guests. I guess I will never know.

Cycling – oh, yes. This is a cycle blog. The road was straight with moderate traffic through farming country. I ate lots of grapes, and passed 15000km from Eindhoven.

Grapes

Grapes

15000km

15000km


Surrounded by bright lights with neon signs and Chinese characters screaming from all directions, I walk down the main street in Yining. Many a man (both young and old) parade past me with their shirt rolled up to around their nipples. Guts can hang out, and underpants can be exposed. Everything goes here in China!

Letting the breeze in

Letting the breeze in

I am in the far flung backblocks of China, and it feels like I have almost not left a metropolis. The smallest dots on the map are cities bigger than anything I have seen in the last few months – huge boulevards with high-rise buildings and neon signs screaming out consumerism. When I’m not in a city, I’m on a massive freeway or the very large parallel ‘alternate’ road. With the honks of horns and the whizzing past of cars, peace can only be reached when you stop. Talking to the owner of shops, and playing with the kids. All a lot of fun. It’s not worth trying to leave the main road to take a road through the villages. I did that, and the road fizzled out, as did all the side roads. Twenty kilometres later, I returned to where I started.

Lunch stop

Lunch stop


The transition could not be more abrupt. In Kazakhstan small farming villages dotted with small ‘magazins’ – what I have been used to in the ‘stans’. Over the border, a little city has grown out of the desert like a mushroom. Big shopping complexes in the making, wide streets, and a buzz of things happening that wasn’t over the border in Kazakhstan. This is the new China that is being built as we speak.

Shopping street

Shopping street

I waited in the ‘queue’ (mass of people) behind the green line to leave Kazakhstan. I had my cumbersome, fully loaded bike, and people were squeezing past me, ignoring my protests. A clash of cultures perhaps. I jammed my bike perpendicular to the queue and actively blocked any more queue-jumpers. Still, a woman breathed in and slipped past my bike, wedged against the wall. Probably with a low sugar level after cycling there without eating lunch, I was determined to remove her. I stared at her. And stared. And stared. She nervously looked away and I continued staring. For minutes. She glanced back at me and then away – looking anywhere but at me. I continued staring, not moving my gaze for a second. She talked to her neighbour, glancing briefly at my piercing stare from time to time. After 10 minutes she looked at me, and asked if she could return to behind my bike. I let her through to her rightful place in the queue.

After a 7km ride around a big loop road to return to 100m from where I started, I easily passed through Chinese customs, and am proudly now in the Middle Kingdom. I laughed with joy. A rush of pride washed over me. I have cycled here from Holland! There were Chinese characters everywhere, I heard Chinese spoken, and it all looked so different. Wide streets, lots of bustling stalls, high-rise buildings, many new ones still being built, and what looked like a massive shopping complex. How different to a kilometre the other side of the border river.

Time to use my Chinese language skills learned in my 6 weeks in Taiwan in January and February. I ordered lunch and chatted for about an hour with the kids at the restaurant. After fighting through with my inadequate Russian for several months, it feels good to be able to speak the language again.

Talking with the kids

Talking with the kids

And then, leaving the city, I ran into a German cyclist cycling the other way into Kazakhstan. After another meal with him (I just ate ice-cream), I decided to call it a day, and stop in the border town. Tomorrow I’ll cycling into China proper.


My rest in Luang Namtha in Laos has given me time to upload my next video of the cycling trip from Holland to Australia. This is the second instalment of my cycle through the Middle Kingdom – from Xiahe in Gansu province, through Sichuan and Yunnan to Laos. I hope you like it!


My posts have been delayed so I do not post on China while in China. I have now cycled through China and am in Laos. From now on, I will post without this delay. You can read my thoughts of cycling through Laos and beyond in closer to real time, while also reading daily posts of my trip through China (with the 3 month delay). Here are my thoughts on China.

As a skinny, exhausted cyclist, I staggered across the border from China to Laos. I cycled over 6000km in China in almost 3 months. It was an intense part of my trip. I had training to prepare me (cycling to China), and I needed it. Wind and sand, multiple 100km stretches of mud bath roadworks and a lot of steep climbing. China was an assault on the senses. Beautiful, wild, vast nature, and a culture so foreign, it left me reeling from culture shock. A truly rewarding experience. Thank you China!

Perched on the side of the hill

Perched on the side of the hill

My Chinese Friends
I met and cycled with some lovely Chinese people, who welcomed me to join them and become their friends as we experienced their country together. It amazes me how light they can travel. Two small panniers on the back and that was it. For Achun, it included a tent and sleeping bag. Chinese hikers, however, are definitely not light travellers.
I met, had my photo taken, and became WeChat (Chinese Facebook) friends with many, many people. People would stop their cars in front of me, get out, and take photos of them with me and my bike. They would often give me water and food, and give me the thumbs up. Just stopping on the side of the road often brought me an audience and photos. People are definitely very curious and welcoming.

16000km

16000km

Big Brother is watching – all the time
I grew to fear the police, who are everywhere. In hotels, restaurants and public places, there are police signs with photos of the local police officers and telephone numbers to call. Foreigners can only stay in registered foreigner hotels – a rule which is strictly enforced in some places (usually bigger towns, especially in Xinjiang), and less strict in others. I have been woken up in the middle of the night by the police for a passport check. I was asked to leave a hotel after having checked in and showered. Once I was taken to the police both in the evening and the following morning for registration. Many hotels cannot take foreigners, and in Guazhou, I left after an hour of searching for an affordable hotel and camped in the desert.
The police in Xinjiang have a checkpoint at major road junctions and check passports. Once I was refused entrance on the road I wanted to go on. I had to change clothes and return half an hour later with a different story, told to a different police officer.
In China, the police mean: maybe we won’t let you do what you want to do. China is a police state, and you can feel it.

The police presence

The police presence

China – a developed country with a difference
I came to China expecting to see a country striving to be ‘developed’. Depending on your definition, it is already there. In many ways, it is everything America would like to be but isn’t. Brand new multi-lane freeways that stretch into the distance. Shiny bright shopping complexes. Advertisements with young, vibrant models inviting to spend, spend, spend. Spending has become the new Chinese meaning of life, I sometimes think. There is a huge middle class I hadn’t expected of wealthy, educated people with money to spend. I met them as cycle companions, or as tourists (like myself), visiting their own country. They are lovely, interesting, welcoming people with a life, in many ways, similar to my (old) life in Europe.

Then there is the working class in China – and there are lots and lots of workers. I was amazed how there was no rubbish lying around, given how everyone lets litter slip from their fingers, anywhere and everywhere. The reason is, there is someone sweeping every street – every day. There is someone trimming the grass – every blade – everywhere. The land is intensively – manually – farmed. There are people everywhere on the fields, sewing the seed, managing the crops, harvesting and processing the harvest.

China is one big construction site. Massive freeways are being built and old roads are being upgraded. The number of workers available to do this is incredible. One hundred kilometres of road is built at once, with people in bulldozers, trucks, and setting the cement barriers on the side. The workers line the 100km stretch mud bath from beginning to end. New towns are being built out of nothing in the middle of nowhere with high-rise apartment blocks, new multi-lane connecting roads, and shopping malls. Many are still empty, but ready as the people from the land move there, as is part of the Chinese government’s development plan.

Roadworks

Roadworks

China: a beautiful, foreign place
China is a beautiful country. I love vast expanses, and being immersed in nature – being alone at one with nature. Cycling through the endless desert, I am awed with nature’s power and magnificence. The remote mountain roads in Sichuan and Yunnan are stunning, as is the dense jungle in southern Yunnan. The tourist attractions do not give me this peace and wonder – they are overcrowded and very expensive.

Although my mandarin is now quite reasonable, and I could communicate, I feel very foreign in China. I have western sensibilities and taste buds, which don’t fare well in the Middle Kingdom. I can’t get used to the slurping when eating and constant high volume spitting. Trucks and cars tooting to signify their presence drove me crazy, and I never had fears of falling into the trap of overeating.

When I leave a country, I like to buy some of my favourite food to take with me to eat in the next country. In China, I went to the supermarket before the border, and came out empty handed. I lost weight in China.

Here is my first video on China. My second one will be ready in a few days! 🙂


Why plan in such detail? And so far ahead? Well, that’s my ordered side. Things need to be arranged. Leave nothing to chance. And that is exactly what a trip like this can never be like.. That also makes it exciting. Still, planning can help make broad global decisions that will affect the whole trip. And it is also a lot of fun!

In September 2014 I will be leaving Eindhoven, the Netherlands, to cycle to Adelaide, Australia, where I was born. After cycling through Europe in 2014, the second stage of my trip starts in Istanbul in Turkey around March 2015, and sees me end somewhere in South-East Asia. There are lots of options, and lots of decisions to make. Here is the current planned route.

World Cycle Trip 2015: Route Through Asia

World Cycle Trip 2015: Route Through Asia

At first I was a bit irritated when I discovered that, perhaps, my timing was a bit skew. I have planned too much time. Leaving Istanbul in February/March to get to Tajikistan on June 1 where I would meet up with my cycling friend Chris. But, hey, this is a cycle trip of a lifetime. No stress. No hectic agenda. I am going to take my time and see places not many people have the privilege to see. I am going to take detours. This route is the basis. I am now collecting ideas for detours – interesting places to see and things to do!

Here are the countries I will be cycling through with some thoughts on my route through them.

In Turkey I might stick to the Black Sea coast and enter into Georgia, Armenia, and possibly Azerbijan. But in the correct order. The relationships between the countries in the Caucus are complex, and in researching the trip I am discovering things I never knew existed – self proclaimed countries recognised by no-one except themselves – Abkhazia and Nagorna-Karabagh.

In Iran I may head south through Isfahan and Shiraz as recommended by Bernadette Speet. The major decisions that affect the global route take place in China. Strict laws in the Tibetan Autonomous Region (TAR), expensive (compulsory) tours that need to be taken there, roads blocked for tourists, length of Chinese visas, timing of wet and hot season in Bangladesh, lack of roads leading to massive detours on the Tibetan Plateau, the impossibility of crossing Myanmar. All these affect my route through China, and, inevitably, what the whole trip looks like. I would like to have a connected route entirely covered by bike – and I would like to see Bangladesh. The only option is to fly.

My planning continues – fine tuning the European and Asian route, and also putting together the third and final stage of the trip – the ‘South-East Asian’ leg.. 🙂


It has been a long road to arrive at this point, but actually, the road is just starting. Its exciting beyond belief, and bloody scary too. In September I will be leaving my job of 16 years and cycling from Eindhoven, the Netherlands – where I now live, to Adelaide, Australia – my birthplace. There is a lot of preparation to be done. I need to shed all my worldly possessions, learn a bit more about bike maintenance, arrange all sorts of paperwork, and plan the route.

You guys all helped me with my cycle trip in 2013 to the North Cape in Norway. You gave me great tips on my planned route, and I was able to meet up with some of you. I would like to do that here again with this more ambitious trip.

Here is a rough idea of how I want to get to Adelaide.
Bildschirmfoto 2014-01-07 um 20.26.05

In the coming weeks I will be putting together a planned route through Europe. It would be great to get some feedback on the route – roads I should take, places I should go.

This dream I had always thought would remain just a dream. It is too risky, too scary, too thrilling. My life situation is such that I can do this now. I am fit enough. I don’t want to look back on my life when on my death bed and think – I had the chance, and I let it go. A good friend of mine summed it up perfectly: Life is not a dressed rehearsal. I am going to do this!

To be continued!