10 October – 6 November 2008

Introducing Lobert J. Murray.

Mr Wong: What is your name? Roller: Robert. Mr Wong: Lobert? Roller: Robert. Mr Wong: Lobert? Roller: ROBERT. Mr Wong: Aaaah, Lobert. Roller: OK, yes, Lobert.

Our days in China flew by in a whirlwind of trains allowing us to feel like we skimmed the surface of this intriguing culturally and geographically diverse country. Glimpses of life flashed past and lodged in our memories: whole skinned dogs hanging outside a restaurant in a dusty backstreet; vast supermarkets that would leave even James A.B. Murray in awe; masses of Chinese tourists in their own country; little known cities with bigger populations than NZ; remote hill tribe villages with ways of life not yet altered by capitalist China. And a whole lot of hawking (def: to make an effort to raise phlegm from the throat; clear the throat noisily).

After a few days in the remote northeast city of Kashgar, we travelled by train to Kunming in the south of China, stopping off to join the army of tourists at the Terracotta Warriors in Xi’an and to follow pilgrims ascending the sacred Buddhist mountain of Emei (near Chengdu). Reunited with our bikes in Kunming, we cycled through rice terraces in the south of Yunnan and then crossed the border to Laos.

Kashgar
We thought we would have left mutton behind us when we arrived in China. Initially it was not to be.

Kashgar is an area inhabited by Uighur (pronounced like ‘swagger’ without the ‘s’) people. There has been considerable unrest in this region as the Uighur seek autonomy but the Chinese government is unwilling to cede. Significant relocation of Han Chinese from eastern China to the area is particularly visible in the contrast between the Uighur ramshackle old town and the shiney shopping centres and high rise buildings in the new Han Chinese area.

Historically, Kashgar was an important stop on the Silk Road. Heading east, it’s the last stop before the thousands of kilometres across the shifting sands of the Taklamakan Desert. The old town is full of small winding streets, smoke-filled food markets and has a lively bazaar atmosphere with traditional craftsmen still practicing age-old methods of production.

Naturally we were keen to tickle the tastebuds with the array of delights on offer. Unsure of the local ordering system we selected a roadside stall and ended up with a plate of mutton-fat kebabs. Undeterred, and by now accustomed to the waxy palate-covering film, we polished them off and then went in search of dessert. We joined a big crowd for some sugar covered pancakes. We both took several bites of our treats until we realised that the chewing difficulties we were both experiencing were due to mutton gristle. In our pancakes. There is no limit to this versatile meat.

Transport
1) Trains (Pot Noodle Express)
Hard sleeper carriages in Chinese trains are divided into open compartments with six bunks. The top bunk is the cheapest, then the middle then the bottom. Knowing we could not cycle China in one month we sent our cycles with China Express Cargo services from Kashgar to Kunming, 4000km to the south, and spent 103 hours travelling across the huge country. Top bunked it all the way.

We had 11 bags between us on our “backpacking” trip. Picture the Stick with one large pannier hanging off each shoulder, one small pannier in each mitt, a rucksack on her back and the tent of romance under her left arm. She certainly was quite a sight, crawling up the steps to board and then traversing the corridors of the sleeper train sideways, frequently getting jammed in doorways and having to reverse out as the locals jostled past in their rush to get to their assigned bunks. 

Hawking and slurping, scuffing and burping. 44 billion Pot Noodles are consumed in China per year. We estimate that 76% are eaten on train journeys. We both consumed the odd Pot but just one team member participated in the full cultural complement with gusto.

However we were not so adventurous as the locals with additions to the Pot. We saw all manner of delicacies unwrapped from layers of packaging to supplement the noodle: eggs from large and small birds, feet from large and small birds, entrails from large and small birds; chunks of slimey jellied meats squeezed out of packets (possibly from large and small birds); jerky made from all manner of beast…

2) Buses (Vomit Express)
Even though the climbs were long (30km uphill) the team had commented that we would rather be on the bikes than on a bus. However destiny intervened and our longhaul bus journey (see ‘Caught short’ below) wound its way on roads along river valleys and up and down mountains, laboriously connecting hilltop villages. Winding mountain roads and old buses are the perfect ingredients for motion sickness. When on our cycles we had observed many passengers’ heads cradled in their arms and partly digested noodles running down the sides of buses. Plastic bags hang from the ceiling of the buses and are used by locals to capture their sick before it is turfed out the window (a favourite canine snack but cyclists must be vigilant). 

On the bus journey we took around 46% of the passengers were sick. Lobert just had to go to the toilet.

Random acts of kindness
1) Food and drink
Sun: a trendy 20-something who could speak very little English. He bought us beers and food throughout our first 23 hour train journey, and then spent hours communicating with pictures and teaching us to pronounce the challenging number four in Mandarin.

2) Guide
Frank: whose mother we met en route to Emei and was on the platform to meet her at Chengdu train station. She asked him to show us how to get to the bus station where we would connect to Emei (a couple of hours away) and this very kind person unquestioningly paid for our local bus fares and spent an hour and a half of his Sunday afternoon escorting us to the short haul Passenger Distribution Centre (known to us as a bus station) before returning to his mother waiting at the train station. Incredible.

3) Caught short…
…but not in L.J. Murray’s usual fashion. We found ourselves running low on cash in a large town in the middle of rural Yunnan and then made the discovery that not all of China’s domestic banks take international cards or have currency exchange facilities. With barely 60 yuan (less than USD10) left in the purse it was time to panic, beg and bludge our way out of there. Thanks to powers of persuasion, a few Stick tears and looks of pure desperation we managed to get onto a bus that wound and bumped its way along the remote roads we had planned to cycle (see ‘Vomit Express’ above). This was a total of 15 hours including stopping time to buy spare parts/undertake emergency repairs/water the brakes/wait for roadworkers to manually grade sections of the road.

The driver charged us a tenth of the fare and bought us a big bag of steamed pork buns for breakfast. He left us at a cross-roads town at 22.30, cashless and 85km from the provincial capital of Jinghong. China’s accommodation policy means it was a big ask of the hotel to allow us to stay a night without paying upfront for the room and leaving a deposit for the key. The staff looked blank when we said we were from New Zealand and were without yuan. The following day they lent us our bus fares to Jinghong and arranged our transportation for us. We returned to the hotel with a fat purse and presents for our benefactors. We ended up staying there for three nights and made a few new pals (word of our pickle spread quickly in the one street town…).

Hairdressers
The small towns we visited on our cycling route were littered with karaoke bars and, strangely enough, hairdressers. The salons were all distinctively decorated with pink lights, were open all hours and had seductive female hairdressers who would only invite Lobert in for a “grooming”. Oddly there were not all that many hairdressing facilities. Lobert was in need of a haircut, but this was not permitted by the Stick who continually repeated ’the buggers will cut the wrong hair’. Lobert is still confused by this and his hair continues to be a bouffant (def: a woman’s hair style in which the hair is teased to give an overall puffed-out appearance and often combed to frame the face).

The bottomless jumpsuit
Not a new team look but the favoured way to dress local babies. No nappies required, just hold the child over toilet/gutter/steps/park grass. The rest is obvious. Maybe Rach and Martin’s bambino could be the trial for our new import business?

Hotel discounts
As we were travelling in China after the busy time of the Chinese New Year there was room for bargaining and incredible discounts to be had at hotels. Once the Stick made this discovery she did not hold back approaching the flashest hotels and would get rooms for a greatly reduced rates – our record was 70% off.

… and the cycling
In the cities where we had our bikes (Kashgar, Kunming) we joined the hoardes of locals on two wheels and cycled the streets. Definitely the best way to get around.

For our touring we chose a route without looking at a map with contours. No wonder there was no information online by people who had done this route before. When asking for directions the locals would laugh at us, which always proved to be a sign about the road ahead. Although the climbs were long the gradients were kind to us and we had lots of opportunities to see ethnic groups in vibrant traditional dress, living as they have been for centuries in remote  hilltop villages. The route took us from Jianshui to the new town of Yuanyang (and pig’s blood soup for dinner), then up a long climb to Xinjie, at the heart of the rice terrace region. The road got more and more remote and we came within 50km of the Vietnamese border before we got to Lechun. Unfortunately, due to our money misadventure, that’s where this part of our route had to end. From Mengxing, where we got our unexpected bus to, we spent a leisurely three days cycling to the Laos border. There had been heavy rain in the region, flooding and landslides had claimed 17 peoples’ lives. It left us to negotiate muddy and flooded roads which the bicycles didn’t appreciate – but we enjoyed.

Accidents
LJM: on a slippery downhill section, LJM hit a section of road under repair. With no rear brakes, the front wheel skidded out and LJM was able to dismount at speed. He ended up in the roadside ditch wearing one jandal with his cycle and other jandal left a few metres behind. Luckily no injury sustained.
DSS: ever the sensible one and took all downhills with caution. No accidents to report.

Viper encounter
Cycling in the mountainous jungle meant dodging more than plastic bags full of vomit. Lobert was leading the way on a wet downhill when he spotted something sliding its way across the road. Closing in at speed and with no time to manouvre Lobert ran over the mid section of a ‘large’ snake. The snake curled as Lobert rolled on. In Steve Erwin fashion he stopped the bike and ran back to ensure the snake was safe and then catch it to impress the Stick (who was a few kms behind) (but still heard a resounding yelp from the Roller as his front tyre hit the reptile) (that is where our versions of the story disagree). Many more snakes were spotted both dead and alive thereafter.

Constitutions update
Lobert: still bothered with bowel issues stemming from K’stan, not helped by surprise mutton dishes. As things started to look up a sudden relapse occurred on the 19 hour train journey from Emei to Kunming. The Stick was getting a little exasperated with Lobert complaining of stomach problems. Lobert blamed the Stick for having a heavy hand when ‘spicing’ up their noodle soups with chili flakes. The news does get better: after we were back on the bikes there was only one last indescribable session, after which (to use the correct medical term, courtesy of S Drummond), things were back to a ‘spreadable’ form. Lobert continues to be untroubled in the stomach department to this very day – touch porcelain - but continues to document his deposits for those who are interested (chiefly the Bat).
DSS: as per last entry. Full strength, firing on all eight.