Yunnan Province; China (For travel and country facts: Yunnan -China)
MURRAY'S DIARY for the complete story.
Kunming to Dali - Lijiang
Cycling away from a city always means cycling about 20km through heavy industry., This time it is worse. The alternative road follows the highway, and apparently there is something going on on the highway and we get all the traffic against on our road. The first 70km we can´t breath anything else but exhaust gases and we are pushed from the road by trucks and touring busses that all want to be the first in Kunming. The other 50km are very scenic going through mountainous valleys. We stay overnight at truck stops, most of the time recognised by 6 numbered doors in a row in a small flat building or the ´cable car´ Chinese character. Every 10km you can chose one or two of these. Inside it looks like a garage with a small window and two beds, but it costs only 10 yuan ($1,20) per person and you can eat with the family (another 5 yuan). We cycle in five days to
Dali and another two to
Lijiang.
Heqin Lijiang
Nineteen touringcar buses
have just unloaded their Chinese tourist. We distinguish 5 groups, one group
with yellow baseball caps, one with red caps and one with with-blue caps (etc,
etc). The other 250 people have come with cheaper tour operators that do not
provide caps. In groups of 50 they are welcomed by a girl that belongs to the
‘local’ Chinese minority, the Bai, or at least she is dressed up to look
like one. Each ‘Bai’-guide carries a triangle flag (either red, yellow or
blue) so that her group can follow her easy. With a speaker she screams things
we don’t understand. It’s a short climb up to the cable car entrance,
proudly presented as Austrian since all parts are imported from Austria. From
the top of the cable car we make a 4 hours walk to a smaller cable car down back
to Dali. When we reached the cable car station we see a queue in front of the
cable car (we already noticed the ‘few’ buses down on the parking lot),
which lasts for an hour. We are the only two who are not domestic tourists, but
it seems that we are the main tourist attraction here and not the cable car. In
Dali old town you see tourist groups walk the same 30 minutes route which start
at seven in the morning till ten in the evening. When we reach Lijiang we see
all tourists making the same picture and sometimes three times within the same
family on the same spot (and very static). When a picture is taking they do a
count down, but the girl didn’t move for the last three minutes!!
´Leaving a road of destruction´ or ´the Chinese
chicken´
So far we have managed order to delicious dishes of
Chinese food. In fact we look forward to the lunch and diner every day. With our
phrase book we simply ask for beef, pork or chicken, then pointing to one or two
types of vegetables and we have always left the other ingredients to the cook
and received something wonderful. This time it’s different. Raymond looks at
me and whispers in Dutch ‘I just saw them carry a live chicken into the
kitchen’. The next thing we hear is (what we think is) an axe hitting the
kitchen table several times. We fall silent. The waitress serves us rice and the
two other dishes with fried vegetables. The third dish is a delicious one with
fried slices of pork in chilli and vegetables. We start eating, curious about
the chicken to come. Maybe it wasn’t for us, although we are the only guests.
Ten minutes later the waitress serves a roughly chopped chicken, boiled and
served in a big bowl of water. ‘Isn’t that the head of the chicken’ says
Raymond and picks it up with his chopsticks. Two days after this ‘incident’
they had to get the (already dead and picked) chicken from the neighbours. And
the next day another chicken was slaughtered for us. It seems we are leaving a
road of dead chickens behind us…
Murray
the tourist attraction.
Flash!",
"flash!" an enormous camera lens is zoomed in at us from the window of
a passing touring bus just at the moment we struggle to get air and breath
heavily from cycling up a nasty hill. The bus slows down to provide the
passengers more time to take photos. At this moment more windows are opened and
2 video cameras and five 'thumbs-up' appear through the windows. It takes some
time for the bus to pull up and leaves us in dust and a cloud of black
exhaust fume. Sometimes I wonder if I breath heavily because of the hills or
all the lorry exhausts that are all pointed to the side of the road and
producing and leaving the pedestrians (and cyclists!) in a black smoke.
"Breathing dust" " Someone has to bite the dust"
Lijinang to the Tiger Leaping Gorge
(29/09/2003)
At this moment we are cycling from Lijiang to the Tiger Leaping gorge in one day
(85km). The road leads us through very nice sceneries of mountains reaching
around the 4000m. Ever since we entered Lijiang we have seen the Jade Dragon
Snow Mountain coloring the horizon with it's rocky white summit, after a half
day cycling we reach the foot of this 5896 meter giant. At 3000m the nice
scenery makes place for a golf court and large parking for the Chinese touring
busses. From this point a cable car runs up the mountain, transporting the
groups of Chinese tourists who consider this the highlight of a day trip from
Lijiang. We have a lunch in one of the restaurants on the parking place. We are
placed in the backside of the restaurant between the bus drivers and tour guides
at a long dark wooden table. There is a lunch buffet were we can eat for 20 Yuan
per person ($ 2,50). The tour groups are placed in the main restaurant and are
served at the 'reserved' tables.
Muriël still fresh after 3000 km autumn 3100 m Raymond down hill
In
the distance we see the mountains that we need to concur in the next hours and
days. Suddenly we make a turn around the mountain and are faced again with ... a
cable car (which looks more like an old merry-go-round). Horses to go up and
down the mountain and drinks stalls are everywhere.
At
the end of the day we are treated with a 35km downhill over another Roman road.
Raymond's front pannier falls of a couple of times but we reach Daju just before
dark. The Tiger leaping gorge ends at Daju (looking at the flow direction of the
river) and we planned to cross the Yangtze River and to cycle through the gorge
tomorrow. The Tiger Leaping Gorge, also described by the Lonely Planet as, 'the
deepest most breathtaking gorge in the country’ is 35km long and spans barely
30m. The surrounding peaks are 5600m.'
Tiger Leaping Gorge
"mountain restaurant" table for "stonegrilling"
----------------- Tiger Leaping Gorge (close to the Tibet border)---------------
30/09/2003.
The next day we set off towards the ferry that must take us over the river. We
choose for the 'new' or 'winter' ferry, since that sounds better than the 'old'
ferry that is shown on our hand-drawn map of the gorge. After a Roman 10km, we
reach the ticket office for the ferry. The ferryman seems to accompany us to the
ferry, he gestures that we should take our time to get to the ferry. We have
planned to cycle through the gorge today, so we actually want to 'hurry' a bit.
We pick up our bicycles and start our descent. Most remarkable thing is that the
ticket office is located (approximately) 800meters above the river. After
50meters we make a turn and look into the steep gorge and see the brown colored
Yangtze running wild with a constant loud thunder and white foam of the many
rapids. From this point we see that the road we need to take with 30kg of
luggage and a bicycle, is a small trail that leads down and is interrupted by at
least 70 stairs of around 10 steps each. We let go of the idea of cycling down.
The trail is 1.4km downwards and at the last 100m it finally gets too tight for
a bicycle and its 'pusher'. The road is now not more than rocks that are too big
for a bicycle with luggage to be pushed over. We unload our bicycles and try to
look (and not to think about) the trail on the other side of the river. The
ferry is a 'long' speedboat that takes us with some difficulty across the river.
At the other side we are met by some clever guys who are willing to bring your
luggage up the (even steeper and smaller) trail that starts with a 'landslide'
of small rocks. Raymond has experienced such a 'landslide' before in the Gorge
du Verdon (France) where you don't want to look down or think what will happen
if the rocks start sliding. Raymond ties two rear panniers around his shoulders,
one on the front and one on the back and the carriers and a horse take the rest
of our luggage in 45min. up the mountain. We are in (almost) no position to
bargain. At one o'clock we reach 'Walnut Grove' which is a small place in the
middle of the gorge and decide to spend the rest of the afternoon reading and
drinking Dali beers.
From
the Tiger Leaping Gorge the road (214) leads slowly up. The road is under
construction and the only thing we breathe in for the next 20km is clouds of
dust and the black fumes of trucks. We are lucky that someone saw us cycling and
lets it drizzle once in a while, which saves us another 2km of breathing dust.
For the next 10km, we have exchanged the dust for a steep 7-10% asphalt road,
after which we arrive in a very small village that exists of 25 wooden houses
and a school next to the busy road. We hope we can stay overnight in this
village. It turns out to be one of those uncomfortable situations where Chinese
don't know how to handle it. The rule that foreigners need to sleep in a hotel
still exists and there is no hotel or guesthouse here. I try to look tired and
cold and try to ask if we can sleep somewhere. Lot of discussion between the
villagers, handing over the responsibility to each other to answer my question.
Which normally means 'Mei You' (no). Raymond buys two instant noodle soups at
one of the stalls next to the road to demonstrate that we take care of our own
food. Just as we have given up hope and intent to cycle and pitch our tent
somewhere, one of three other young men tap me on the shoulder. We follow them
and are offered a room in the house of the uncle of one of them. The uncle
leaves us behind at the fireplace and departs with the three men after he
explained that tomorrow morning we should just close the hanging lock on the
door.
After
a breakfast of some cookies (all we can find that looks like breakfast) we cycle
68km towards Shangri-la (Zhongdian) over a pass of 3200meters. After the pass we
noticed a cultural change, people are dressed different, different type of
cattle and farming. We have reached the area of another minority in Yunnan, the
Tibetans.
After three days rest and rain we decide to cycle away anyway. The road climbs up and down to the Yangtze River, after which we follow the river 20km where we found a village to stay. From this village the road leads up a total of 65km to the summit, which lies at 4260m. We want to cycle this in one day, go over the summit and sleep just on the other side and than continue the next day to Deqin. Deqin is the most northern city in the Yunnan province. The road has the most beautiful scenery we have seen so far. High mountains surrounding us, and the higher we get the deeper and more narrow the valley gets. Some villages have Buddhist temples that we can see from our road. After 25km the road changes from asphalt to a gravel road, relative in a good condition. Our legs start to feel the elevation change and we are breathing more heavily. At 3700meters, where the road changes again into a Roman road, we do one more attempt to reach the summit by cycling 6-7km/h.
After
1 km (3800m) we see two mountain huts, were we decide to stop for the night and
pitch our tent. 'Ni Hao', I say into the dark at the door opening. No need to
pitch a tent today, we can choose between these two 'Swiss-mountain cabins'. The
surface of the huts are approximately 5x4 meters with a fire place in the center
and an open roof that looks like the chimney. One of the huts is next to the
road; the other contains a thick layer of cattle shit. We choose for the shit.
Raymond sweeps the (dried) shit to the other side of the hut while I get dry
wood for a fire and pine wood needles for the floor. We eat noodle soup in front
of the fire, but this is not a success. 50% of the smoke does not leave our
cabin via the roof.
When
we continue the next day we have to adjust our speed and slow down. We have
viewed the summit from our hut and it seems close. The night was cold (less than
3C) and we start of with our gloves on. Just before we reach the summit, slowly
a large mountain with white peaks shining in the sun arises over the top. 'Wow!'
shouts Raymond at the moment he sees this mountain, and I wonder what is so
astonishing.
"4193" It's windy but the view is really breathtaking.
We set-off our firecrackers that we
bought in the supermarket two days ago to celebrate this victory at 4193meters.
Our 'celebration' dance is so exhausting that we have to stop it. We laugh and
scream out loud, but have to stop this as well. We dress up warm for the
expected long decent to Deqin and start cycling. What we did not know at this
time is that the real summit is at 4260meters and after two long descents.
Tibetan Feilai temple /Deqin.
'Want
a Dali beer?' Raymond asks. 'Sure, lets see how drunk we can get at 3300m (Deqin)'.
Beer comes in bottles of 640ml, but already after the first glass we feel a
hangover headache on the backside of our heads. No idea what happened to the
happy phase.
Deqin
is not a city we like very much. There's a very obvious gap between poor, rich
and tourists. Half of the population (or Chinese tourists) travels around in
shiny new 4-wheel drives while others look like beggars and sleep on the street.
The atmosphere is now and then aggressive and 'pushy'. We can't relax outside of
our hotel room without being stared at from a distance that is for us too close.
Half of the people who sleep on the street are pilgrims, here for their pilgrimage to the Feilai temple and the close mountain of 6700meter. We are only 50 km away from Tibet, and we regret that we didn't 'study' the Tibetan culture before we left. We reach Feilai temple with a taxi. It's not so big but it's actually quite busy, luckily we are the only tourists here.
An old
grandma walks around
the temple, through a corridor, and we follow here. The four walls of the temple
are covered with a series of bronze 'prayer' cylinders. Grandma swings every
single one of them. I really thought these were brought back alive for the '7
years in Tibet' movie with Brad Pitt. Raymond walks behind me and starts rapping
like in 'The Golden Child' with Eddy Murphy. Everyone takes it very serious and
continues with another round around the temple.
Inside
the temple people walk from Buddha to Buddha, leaving about 5 Jiao ($0,05) at
every Buddha statue. It is dark in the temple and the light is being produced by
the hundreds of candles in front of the Buddha’s.
I
leave money (20 Yuan) in only one place, but I regret this. It would be a better
idea to invest this money in a nice smelling environment. I could have bought 63
soap blocks for the same amount of money and that would have saved a lot of
pilgrims from making their smelling reputation true. Grandma has just started
her tenth round as we leave the temple.
From Deqin, along the Mekong river.
It’s
seven o'clock in the morning and we are ready to descent to the Mekong river
(1800m). Off we go again, going south from now on, to Cambodia. 'Have you seen
this?!', I point to my front tire. It has decided to let me down just the night
before we want to leave. I replace the inner tube and start pumping. 'Bang!'.
The valve is too thin for the valve hole in the wheel and so our spare inner
tube has exploded. We have no more spare tires left with the so-called 'French'
valve. I repair the older one and Raymond sends an e-mail home asking to send us
spare tires via Poste Restante, these tubes are not available in Asia. Next
time, bring wheels that require tubes with car tire valves! In the meanwhile it
started raining again, and so we make ourselves waterproof. Raymond’s panniers
are 10 years old and no longer waterproof. Only plastic garbage bags can keep
the rain out. Because of the rain the dirt track has changed into a mud pool. We
feel dirty as pigs already so why not take a dive in the several mud pools on
the way. Raymond's front panniers answer our prayers. Again one of them falls
off and gives a swing to his front wheel. I hear his brakes make a horrible
noise, but of course this doesn't help to get the bike back in control. Eating
mud is a welcome refreshment after the dust and exhaust fumes. I am too late for
a video shoot.
Taking
a break from concentrating on the road constantly (rocks and mud), we enjoy the
mountain views. The road is rather narrow and it fits exactly one minibus. On
the left hand side the mountain goes steep up to 4000m, on the right the
mountain goes steep down to several rivers at 1800m. I am focused on the road
but have the feeling I am watching a broken television set. The road changes
color from gray-gravel to yellow to red and back to gray again.
We're
still not down to any river but cycle up and down halfway the mountain. It's a
miracle that a handful of minibuses are capable of moving at all over this small
road and through the mud. Just one simple mistake or a sleepy driver would be
fatal and the bus would end up at 1800m. This is also what can happen to a
cyclist if a truck wants to pass you and the road is only as wide as the bus.
Immediately as we went through a short tunnel, that cuts the corner off the mountain, a strong wind starts blowing. Apparently we have gone from one valley into another.
In the deep we spot the wild Mekong River for the first time, but the strong wind and drizzle prevents us to hear it.
The bottle goes in
The Mekong to Weixi.
We are down at the Mekong river and the road has adjusted it's turns and shape to the river. We figure that, because of all the water that runs cross and over the road, it wants to become a river itself. We can barely look at the
Mekong
since the road needs all of our concentration. Stones, rocks, sand, a river crossing,
gravel, mud, its all here and it feels like ages to cycle it.
After
three days we take the only exit from this dirt path that leads to Weixi. Our
planning is to take a sleeper bus back to Kunming, so we are in time out of
China (visa expires). In Weixi we cannot find a 'Bank of China', the only bank
that changes foreign currency or get money via traveler cheques or credit card.
With our last cash we can only reach Dali, which is half way to Kuming (500km).
So we buy a ticket to Dali hoping that we can persuade the bus driver to stop at
a 'Bank of China' during one of the 'smoke' stops. The bus takes us over a
spectacular mountain ridge and this time I can fully see every detail, while the
road is as well a dirt road. I hear a window opening just behind me. What
follows is not one of the Chinese ‘Gggggoink’ sounds, but three of my
neighbors providing their lunch to nature, half of it being captured by the
outside of the bus. Not more than 15 minutes later the same story repeats and
another 15 minutes later again. Lunch must be over by now, is my thought, and I
offer my spear mint chewing gum to the back of the bus.
In
the middle of the evening after 10 hours driving, one hour before Dali and no
'Bank', Raymond bribes the bus driver during a 'petrol stop' with dollars. I
think it is asking a bus driver in Amsterdam if he knows a bank on the way
between Paris and Barcelona. Luckily the bus driver has never seen dollars and
is quite enthusiastic.
"a kid" (gamblers in the shadow) " Teeth brushing" along the road
Raining off to Laos
17/10/2003. It’s the third day in a row that it’s raining since we left Kunming. Not the explosive tropical rains, but continuous drizzling rain just hard enough to make soak you to your tows. We have started cycling in Kunming heading south for Laos three days ago, this part of China is very beautiful with quite steep mountains and scenic views over endless rice fields. Unless it’s raining and clouded the whole day... In fact, we could be in Africa or anywhere else while cycling in these huge clouds that are accompanying us for the last few days. Our views are foggy and we can not look for more than 50meters into the future. Sounds and noises have gone woolly in the fog, we only know where the road is going if a lorry in the distance is using its horn. ‘We are going down again!?’, but who knows the road will go up or down after 50 meters, it’s a big mist(ery).
It is very busy on the
road because the road we are cycling on is under construction. Some of the lorry
drivers use their horn just one turn before it gets close to us and a second
time just besides us. They even have two horns, one for in villages or passing
cars and a loud one when they want to encourage cyclists. We met some cyclists
who are cycling with earplugs in their left ear (we’re cycling on the right
side of the road here).
This road descended for
the last 20km and because we could not predict this, we have just gone down in
our soaking wet clothes getting colder and colder. We do have and use all of the
highly waterproof and breathable raingear, but it is still quite a job to put
everything on (and off, and on, and off everytime it stops and starts drizzling).
The humidity gets higher the more we cycle to the south, and we neglect to
protect ourselves from the rain... with this humidity you are soaked anyway. Our
booties are no longer waterproof so we have to cover our feet with a plastic bag
in our booties, never thought we sweat so much. Raymond has an extra annoyance
during rainy days: his panniers are no longer waterproof and so he struggles
with plastic garbage bags. Only at the end of the fifth day from Kunming it
stops raining and the fog slowly moves up.
A communist meal
It is not so cold
after all, but we are descending already for 20km and we haven’t really
dressed up for that. Our t-shirts are still wet from the climb in the drizzle.
‘Noodle soup!?’ screams Raymond as we descend with 40km per hour. He has
spotted a restaurant next to the road. On the gravel of the parking lot are a
couple of 4WD pick-ups. From the outside we can see there are two large round
tables in a rectangular shaped room. The long side open and facing the road. The
kitchen is on the left side of the building in a separate room. Raymond is
directed to a table on the outside of the building. He makes clear he wants to
be seated inside, because he is wet and cold. Raymond walks first to the kitchen
to order some food and to wash some of the dirt from his face. An English
speaking man from one of the tables offers if he can help with ordering food and
tells us to ‘please sit down’. The table on the left is occupied with twelve
men and so we choose the other. The English speaking men stands up, ‘do you
mind if I join you?’. Apparently he is the English teacher in a nearby village
and is very eager to talk with us. While we introduce and explain our route,
several questions are raised from the other table in Chinese. The teacher
translates patiently ’What do you think of our astronaut?’. When Raymond
asks if they are all teachers he replies ‘no, they are all party members’.
Our question and the answer are not translated to the group. While we are eating
a person from the group tells us he wants to tread us the lunch. Our natural
reaction is that we can not accept it and that it is not necessary. The teacher
does not translate our answer, but replies instead that the offer comes from the
highest party member present and that ‘they will not be pleased if we refuse
the offer’. So who are we, not to accept this generous offer.
"partymember"
Daily dishes
Yesterday afternoon we
bought 3 litres of water and our breakfast for this morning. It is 06:30 and
still dark outside, with the ‘noise’ of loud roosters we open the first
plastic package. An oily white piece of fabric bread and we add our own honey we
bought in Kunming The second package contains another cheap piece of bread,
after our first bite our mouths are full with very sweat whip cream. The last
bit of our breakfast is a package of cookies. They make a lot of noise while
eating and don’t fill our stomachs at all, but at least the white drops on the
top leave a sweet taste. We flush our breakfast with water. Today we are lucky,
sometimes we have only plain biscuits to start the day with. ‘A snack every
two hours’ is what we have learned in the last couple of months. If you do not
keep on feeding your stomach you will get the empty-feeling (‘bamboo legs’)
just after 2 to 3 hours cycling. Snacks are alike breakfast. We have a great
choice of plain biscuits: biscuits with cream, made of rice or grain, (grandmothers)cake,
popped rice with honey in a plastic package, cake with a thick layer of sugar
paste inside, or peanuts in sugar provide a lot of energy. Can you imagine we
long for lunch at this time. A noodle soup is not so heavy and thus perfect for
us. We have seen a wide variety in noodle soups but the one we have today is,
let’s say, quite poor. I can count three pieces of spring onion, if I really
search hard I can find two mushrooms (or two halves?), and for the other part of
the noodle soup it is just water and noodles with a dark read colour of the
chopped chilli.
In China almost every
corner has a small restaurant for dinner. Raymond throws the phrasebook at me
and I search for the ‘food’ pages. ‘Beef?’, I ask as I point to the
Chinese translation. The lady gives me a very long answer in Chinese, she could
be saying something like ‘beef is available but it will take sometime to
prepare since the cow need to get caught first’. ‘I don’t understand
Chinese’ I answer in Dutch. It doesn’t really matter what language you
communicate with. We both laugh as a good Chinese habit of solving language
differences. Often the second reaction is that they will write the answer down
on paper... in Chinese of course.
She makes a pitchers
movement (throwing a ball forward with one hand starting at the shoulder)
inviting me to have a look in the fridge. Just to be sure what we are getting I
use the phrasebook again (to prevent dog meat or something like that). Dog meat
is widely available at the local markets, you can see the just slaughtered dogs
head next to the meat. From the bookshelf where all vegetables are displayed I
choose a green spinach-like vegetable and a cabbage. ‘Bamifan?’ I ask, of
course every meal comes with plain rice. For the rest I leave things up to the
cook. We have never been disappointed, the cook will prepare three dishes now,
one with pork and two with vegetables.
Our lunch
today exists of a plate with beef and chillies, fried vegetables and a bowl of
rice. While I eat the rice I feel I bite on something hard. Quickly I remove the
stone from the rice in my mouth, that was a close call.
In the
past I had brackets to reposition my teeth and after these brackets they glued a
metal wire behind my four upper front teeth. All in all very expensive and so I
am very careful. After five minutes I have another one of these irritating
stones in my mouth. I feel that this time it damaged the glue of the wire and
that it is loose. This means normally a fixture at the orthodontist for at least
80 dollar. Now, what do you do when you are in China. After a quick consult with
Raymonds 'dentist online' it seems that any dentist should be able to glue the
wire with two component glue... Okay, now this is China where a dentist is a
social shop like a butcher, a mini market or a barber. As a Chinese you don't
want to miss the screams of your neighbours irritating child or the extracting
of the tooth of your mother in law (nothing personal). So we walk into one of
these big window shops, where we see a chair that looks like a dentist chair. If
it hadn't been for the equipment next to the chair, we could have walked into a
barbershop. The lady behind the desk in the backside of the 'shop' is very
patient in hearing my story. I draw four teeth on a piece of paper while
pointing at mine. That the metal wire is loose is a bit difficult to understand,
but after showing it to her it seems that she understands. She directs me to the
dentists chair that looks more like a electric chair but then without the
leather straps. When I see the huge 220V electric manual switch in front of me
on the wall, I do have the feeling it is an electric chair and am afraid that I
will touch it with my foot. Raymond is constantly checking if she doesn’t hold
the wrong tools in her hand, so that I will walk out of here with one of my
teeth missing.
Luckily
the first phrase in the Mandarin Phrasebook under “At The Dentist” says 'please
don't extract'... just in case. From a drawer she takes out the two component
glue and start gluing my metal wire to my front teeth. When she is finished she
takes one of her electric
tools to
grind of the unnecessary glue so I can close my mouth again. The electric motor
is connected to the grinder by three arms and above each arm there is a string
to drive the grinder. The machine looks more dangerous than the grinding itself.
After half an hour she is finished, and it seems that the wire is fixed, and
that for only 140 Yuan ($17,50).
Yunnans entiring
nature.
The only advise for
cycling through Yunnan should be: take the time. Especially going south from
Kunming. Mountain climbs between Kunming and Jinhong are generally
20-30kilometers in length and about 7% steep. The roads are for 75% in good
condition, even the alternative roads. The main road is very busy because of all
the heavy loaded dump trucks. On the 6th day, after 73 kilometres we are sick
and tired of the trucks and the wet clothes of the rain in combination with the
long steep climbs.
We decide to stop a lorry
that can take us over the last 40km steep pass. The driver looks puzzled when we
pulled him over and maybe he doesn’t understand why we don’t cycle. We load
up the bicycles in the back and after pointing on the map were we want to go it
seems that he goes another 140km. So who are we not to make use of that. We are
a bit tight in our visa time, so an extra day is fine with us. The road
condition (when driving fast) is not so well, but the bicycles are well fastened
to the rail of the side of the truck and we are surfing with our sunglasses just
behind the driver’s cabin. After 20km of a roller coaster ride we suddenly
turn right just after a bridge and our small lorry takes a shortcut onto the,
not yet finished, toll highway. An illegal entrance to this new highway, going
steep down for a couple of meters with us still surfing on the back looking over
the cabin. Then we reach the new asphalt, and can finally speed up of the
illegal route. By the way he moves around the various (unfinished) objects we
notice that he has used this route before. It is getting cold and dark and we
move fast while we watch the busy traffic going over the other road next to ours
with a lot of bends in the road and going up and down.
After an hour driving we
see a light in the middle of the road and a red ‘stop sign’ is waived at us
by a policeman to pull over. There are several minibuses and lorries standing
behind each other, with their drivers arguing with the policemen. We can only
guess how much the fine is since our driver doesn’t say a word to us when he
gets back in. Aggressively he turns the truck. What a punishment, we must return
and drive all the way back? We laugh silently about it, but actually do not want
to think of going back all the way and take the ‘slow’ route back again,
it’s just before 9 o’clock. Luckily there are more than one illegal entries
and exits, and our driver finds one after a few kilometres driving back and
continues on the ‘slow’ mountainous road.
Just after dinner (we
treated his dinner) we stop at a truck-stop for the night, approximately 180km
from where we were picked-up.
To Jinghong
One more day going
up and down and we have come to a final conclusion. Although we have not had any
rain today, we will take a bus tomorrow to Jinghong, which will cover about
250km of our way south. If we only had reserved some more time we could have
taken alternative roads avoiding all the truck exhausts. Just under Kunming we
had decided not to choose for the mud road to Pu-er because of the rain and not
to choose the mountainous road to be sure we have enough time to get to the
border (our visa expires soon).
Raymond is on the roof of
a bus again, pulling up the bicycles. The bus ride to Jinghong makes us realise
even more how many differences we have seen coming from Kunming going south. The
amount of palm trees and other tropical plants have tripled. We spot endless
tea-fields, bamboo, coconuts, mango trees, pineapple, bananas and several other
fruits (that we don’t recognise) being sold next to the road. We see changes
in housing structure, clothes people wear of the several minority groups and the
humidity gets higher. We see more poverty in the villages compared to villages
just south of Kunming. Yunnan literally means ‘Cloud South’ meaning the
province south of the clouds. Taking our trip to Deqin in consideration we
wonder where the clouds end.
"competition" "crossing a river" "statues Murray"
To the Lao border
We have settled down
for one of our last ’Mekong Water’, a Chinese beer called ‘Lancang beer’
(Lancang is the name for the Mekong in China). And because it tastes so well we
have another one, every time poured in those new glasses with still the sticker
on it. Dali beer is also a good beer, but choose the red label. From the
restaurant on the first floor I look down onto the street. On the left is a
barber where Raymond just went in for a Chinese haircut. Next to the barber
there are three mini supermarkets, or counters would describe it better. The
long glass desk stretches from left to right facing the street. In all of these
supermarkets you can buy the same, a large collection of cookies, candies, a
small selection of toiletries (but difficult to find a raiser), water, instant
noodle soup and some soft drinks. Some people pass by, a young mother carrying
here baby on her back in one of those black velvet bags that are embroided
colourful. We have seen them everywhere in China. The baby is probably wearing
the pants with no stitches at the crotch so you don’t need dipers (all small
children wear these). All Chinese children just use the big hole in their pants
to pee and shit everywhere their parents like, heavily encouraged by the parents
making peeing sounds.
Another pedestrian pushes
a one-wheeled wooden car with two supports that stabilise it when the car is not
pushed. A third person stops as he sees me. Tourists are still interesting. He
looks up from the corner of his eyes, pretending he wants to buy something at
the mini-supermarket. When I look back his eyes move to the middle, but when I
look at my book he will look at me again. I have made it a habit to play this
game for 2 minutes and then I start waving. Next to the mini supermarket
is an old looking bamboo house that doesn’t really match with the surrounded
concrete buildings.
We will miss China (almost)
every bit of it, except for the spitting. We are leaving Yunnan just as we have
got familiar with a lot of the Chinese written characters. It is a matter of
comparing roofs ad stripes, and trying to find something familiar. The last
character of a series that makes ‘guesthouse’ looks very much like a
‘cable car’.