Police vs Ray Charles & Tin Cup

I really wish that I could simply write the following: The last 9 days has been a doddle. Everything went to plan, we reached our daily goals and the weather was gorgeous. Nothing else to report really, until next time. Lots of love……unfortunately that is not the case, and never will be. Good for you the reader, not for me.

This morning has been marvellous! Despite my head pounding from one too many White Russians from last night and playing some hectic games of 20 man rock, paper, scissors, I had my first piece of toast with strawberry jam & butter for breakfast. It is difficult to put into words how beautiful this moment was, watching the butter melt onto deliciously  crisp & warm bread before heaping on mounds of sweet strawberry jam. Especially considering the bland & painfully repetitive breakfasts I have on the road, sitting hunched over in my tent at 0430 in the morning, munching on terrible cupcakes & other sorry excuses for cheap baked goods chatting with Zac doing the same in his tent, neither wanting to be the first person to emerge from our home away from home. Enough about my orgasmic breakfast experience this morning, time to relay some tales from the gruelling leg from Chengdu to Yangshuo, where I am now. Since arriving in China many have been writing to me saying “you’re on your last leg” or “you’re so close now”. In some ways this is true, but in many others it couldn’t be further from the truth. There are SO many unforeseen obstacles on the way that I simply can’t let myself think about the final 7km up Victoria Peak in Hong Kong until I’m at the bottom of it in one piece with a functioning bicycle. The calender tells me I’m close, the map tells another story…

Zac & I planned to leave Chengdu on 24th September to begin our cycle to Yangshuo, my eyes did not concur. That morning they decided they didn’t want to see anymore. I couldn’t open my eyes for the first hour of being up, which was slightly worrying to say the least. When they did crack a millimetre, the dim lights that entered caused excruciating pain. Initially this amused myself and Zac, until 3 hours later and the situation had not improved. Cycling was off and I lay in a dark room with sunglasses on like a 15 year old with the weight of the world on his poor teenage shoulders. Alarms were again set to depart on 25th September, but again my eyes refused to co-operate. Action was needed, so I booked a Dr’s appointment for the afternoon to put my mind at rest. I needed to hear from a professional that it wasn’t serious and I wasn’t going blind. Zac guided me to the centre by allowing me to hold his shoulder to cross the frantic Chengdu traffic. A lot of trust is required when you can’t see.* Wearing my sunglasses in the glum & grey light of the metropolis and glancing towards the ground, passers-by must have thought I was a real prima donna/D-list celebrity trying to seem important. After a thorough exam from an American GP, the diagnosis was Chemical Conjunctivitis with photophobia symptoms. I asked him to translate this for me, which he did – a bad infection resulting in becoming allergic to light. Not great news when you have 1,500km to cycle. He said to have at least 2 more days rest (not possible), gave me numerous drops and creams (applying cream to your eyeball is not pleasant!), prayed for me at the end for 2 minutes whilst holding hands (slightly awkward) and didn’t charge me a penny for the consultation, calling this his sponsorship towards my cycle. I was touched by this gesture. That night Zac went to watch the new Spiderman and I did not. Alarms were set for 0600 on 26th September and my eyes opened 35% – good enough for me, so the road out of Chengdu was hit.

Zac, the king of working out routes and the altitude of any given road, assured me that our setback was no problem and Yangshuo would be hit by 4th October with 9 days cycling “no problem”. Lies, so many problems! He now had the added role of guiding me out of the city whilst I was simply concentrating on following his rear wheel and nothing else. We made the conscious decision to take the main ring road out of town then onto the main highway** as this is the most direct route. The only problem is that bicycles, like any other country, are not allowed on highways. This hurdle was overcome by using a truck as cover and going through the toll booth. Once off the ring road we stopped for a rest in the hard shoulder of the highway for Skittles and Oreo’s, already glistening with sweat due to the extreme humidity. Mid Oreo crunch a police car slowly approached us, busted. They wanted to put our bikes in their trailer, which was too small so we refused point blank. Instead we cycled the 7km to the next exit with them tailing us and they showed us the right secondary road. They were very amicable, but we knew this would not be our first run in with the coppers as we would return to the highway again and again and again, hoping we wouldn’t get caught by the same policemen so we could continue to play the role of ‘silly/ignorant tourist’. 

The annoying thing about my eye issue is not being able to put my contact lenses in. This means I either have to wear my prescription glasses resulting in losing my ‘cool’ edge and being blinded by the bright daylight or wearing my scratched sunglasses with no prescription resulting in retaining my ‘cool’ look (more important than you think!) and wobbling around hitting every pothole and obstacle in the road – difficult choice! For those who don’t know, my eyesight is rather bad. Somehow we managed 100km by midday – this landmark is a sign of a good mornings ride – and stopped for lunch. The afternoon went down the shitter very quickly. No sooner were we on the bikes, than we got seriously lost for the first time since entering China. My 1:4,000,000 map was of no help anymore and the compass was pointing North, bad sign. We tramped on though and the road disintegrated into the quality of a British tractor track. Our successful morning was being exchanged for an unsuccessful afternoon. As if this wasn’t enough, Zac’s Rohloff gears suffered a major setback. We both have the Rohloff system, built to withstand anything and incur minimum issues whilst touring. The actual hub located in his rear wheel axle was fine, but the gear cable had frayed badly, not allowing him to move up or down gears via the shifter on the handle bar. If he wanted to change gear, he would have to stop and do it manually with a spanner. In flat countries like Belgium or Turkmenistan this would have been a minor issue, but in the undulating mountains of south-west China and no specialised Rohloff mechanic until he reaches Perth, Australia this was a slight concern to say the least. He placed it into 8th gear (out of 14) and soldiered on. At 1800 we found a camping spot probably in the bottom ten of my trip. Humidity was through the roof, the mosquitos were hungrier than us and we were on a slope. End of day 1 stats: 154km cycled (maybe 110km in the right direction), NO idea where we are, sweating my bollocks off in my tent killing mosquitos, Zac’s gears are bust, my eyes are still only 50% and the police are onto us. Great start! Ray Charles (me) and Tin Cup*** (Zac) had to sort their shit out.

Up at 0530 to eat our uninspiring breakfast,  put our wet & dirty lycra on, as nothing dries in the humidity, and pack up camp amidst a swarm of morning mosquitos. Goal number one was to hit a town and find our bearings, which took 25km of below average bumpy roads. The one saving grace of being on this minor country road is the sheer beauty of it. I constantly had to remind myself to calm down, relax and enjoy the ride. Watching the countryside wake up is quite magical; the mist hangs mystically above the immaculate rows of the rice paddy fields, elderly men and women are practicing Tai-Chi in their front yard, cockerels are cock-a-doodle-dooing, kids are walking to school and murmurs of ‘wow’ or ‘phoargh’ can be heard as we emerge from the fog, enter their lives all too briefly with a swift wave or smile, before blasting past them. Some of the younger kids just stand their dumbfounded not really understanding what is going on. It always makes me smile how the adults gawp in an identical fashion as the children when we approach them. I do wonder what goes on in their head for that split second. The true magic of living my life by the sun is that after watching the wonders of the world wake up you get to experience the energy of it crescendo into full flow, which in China is quite a fast pace! As the buzz reaches it’s elastic limit, so do my thighs and they are flying up and down like pistons fearing nothing. Eventually, after hours of the world rushing by, the world begins to slow down and unwind as it gets ready to go to sleep; the kids return from school, mouths still ‘fly catching’ due to our momentary passing, livestock are being herded back to their shelters, farmers are retuning from the fields and the light begins to dim. This is the time my iPod normally gets plugged into something mellow, to experience these moments which have been with me for 174 days of the trip so far. 

After finding our bearings on day 2, the road remained terrible and my lack of mudguards was adding all kinds of dirt & grit to my bike and my back (as well as Zac’s front :). We had had enough of shit roads by now, so when we spotted the highway entrance our eyes met and agreed that another chance encounter with the police was necessary. We lingered around the toll booth waiting for the right moment to slip by. When it finally did we were cycled through furiously, I was in the lead and had opted for the ‘cool’ and scratched sunglasses look meaning I could read no road signs. There were several directions to choose from so I shouted back to Tin Cup, who was building up speed in his solitary high gear, “WHERE DO I GO???”. Directions were issued and km’s began to fly by again. That is until we stopped at a petrol station for a break and the police stopped us again and ushered us off again. The cat and mouse game continued, with the cat leading the (blind) mice ever so slightly. That night we slept in an abandoned barn just off the road with a giant spider guarding the entrance to it. I wanted to camp ‘sans’ tent due to the heat and not wanting to enter my sauna tent again, but the presence of the colossal arachnid forced me to sweat it out. The most annoying thing about the sauna tent is not the fact that I sweat more than cycling up a hill in a woolly jumper, but that I can’t read my Kindle as my glasses steam up. So I just have to lay there, sweating, waiting for sleep to whisk me away to dreamland, which can take hours. Needless to say, my mind wonders in all kinds of directions during this time, along with the odd severe cramp.

Day 3 – the rain decides to join the party. It began with a light drizzle, then by the time we reached Luzho the buckets of rain came and the full waterproofs were called into action for the first time since Europe. Annoyingly it was still swelteringly hot and there were still numerous climbs, which meant sweating profusely in clammy waterproofs on top of 2 days of sweat and filth. The smells we were producing can not be written about as it is simply too heinous and you may well be eating something while reading this. Suffice to say, pigs would have fainted in our presence. At some point after Luzuo we crossed the Yangtze River – 3rd longest in the world – but the rain was coming down too hard to appreciate it and my vision, although better, was now impaired with rain & steam on my glasses as contact lenses were still not being trusted. My bike now resembled a jet-ski shooting up giant streams of dirty rain water from both tyres and our hysterical laughter at our predicament turned into gloomy despair and misery. The only creatures enjoying themselves were the ducks playing in the paddy fields, not a care in the world. I suddenly got a craving for crispy duck! A giant bowl of garlic infused egg fried rice brightened the mood, and even the skies. The mornings torrential rain ended up producing one of the top 10 roads of the trip. We hit a valley going slowly upstream with sheer rock cliffs on either side, swathes of bamboo plants growing everywhere and an idyllic train track running along the other side of the river. The heavy morning rain produced spontaneous gushing waterfalls from the cliffs. If felt like we were riding through a Norwegian fjord or Milford Sound in south New Zealand. I dubbed this the ‘Rainboo Road’ due to the rain and bamboo forests. These roads remind me of how lucky I am to be cycling and the unbeatable benefits of cycle touring. This valley would be in no guide book as there is no designated tourist spot here, no respectable restaurant or hotel, no stand out attraction apart from its raw natural beauty. If I were travelling in any other way I would not see this, but being on a bike, travelling from place to place in the open air i get to experience everything. Of course you cycle through some hideously ugly places, but it’s moments and unexpected roads like this that make it all worth while. The road then took a turn for the worse – of course – so it was time to hop back on the highway. This time we found a not yet open slip road and were on with no problems. We reached Xiyang and had to come off as we had no more food or water and petrol stations have become places to avoid due to the traffic police stations there. Quick bite and power power hose of the bikes before being declined entrance back onto the highway, fuck. Instead the last 20km of the day were spent climbing up a very steep section of non-highway. Possibly the worst way to end a day, in a giant ball of sweat. Our climbing has also dramatically increased in speed due to Zac’s gear situation. He now stands up in gear 8/9/10 (he managed to trim the frayed gear cable, somewhat masterfully, allowing him minor movements in the shifter) while I peddle furiously in gears 4/5/6 sitting down. This furious sit-down cycling has the knock on effect of creating more bottom problems. I don’t want to complain too much as his predicament is far less desirable. His ability to do this is nothing short of heroic, but I don’t want to massage his ego too much, just yet anyway… Camp on night 3 was another complete sweat fest with the smell of our bodies, damp lycra and socks plunging to new lows.

The first 3 days was a kaleidoscope consisting of different shades of grey; foggy grey, misty grey, rainy grey, cloudy grey, smoggy grey and plain grey. However, if you peel back the layers and look really hard, you will discover some amazing sights masked by the dull colour. At this point I must mention that I’m sitting in a chilled out cafe 3 floors above the manic & narrow pedestrian West Street of Yangshuo eating an ice-cream sundae – with tomatoes in it, how bizarre! – getting fits of hangover giggles reminiscing about the last 9 days, with Zac pounding out his blog opposite me. Everything is funny in hindsight.

Day 4 – complete shit show. 0530 up, 0630 road was hit in the dark and the steep climbing began from the get go. No easing into to it, just POW, uphill. I don’t like this. The highway is running next to us but is not yet open as it is apparently still under construction. To satisfy our curiosity we had a quick glance over the barrier. It was completely empty and the tarmac was already laid, it seemed rude not to take advantage of this golden opportunity so we hopped over with our bikes and enjoyed cycling along a deserted highway. The benefits of being here also include less climbing as the highway just blasts through the mountains with bridges and tunnels instead of going up and down the valleys like a yo-yo. One stretch of highway was so foggy we couldn’t see further than 4 metres ahead of us. This was very eerie on an empty highway but kind of cool, like a scene from a horror movie. Little did we know we were about to enter one. The highway slowly began to show signs of why no-one was on it, 3km tunnels appeared with no lighting whatsoever – spooky places to be – and the road became patchier in quality. We persevered though, naively assuming things would improve again. They did not. We were soon cycling through teams of road work crews looking at us wondering what the hell we were doing, but not stopping us, and slipping all over the place in the mud. A bridge appeared in the distance connecting the provinces of Guazhou and Guangxi, with lots of scaffolding around it. Deep down we knew what was coming, but we hoped beyond hope that it wasn’t so, especially as the secondary road was now nowhere to be seen. The highway was ploughing its way through untouched countryside with nothing around. Somehow we got onto the bridge under construction without anyone even blinking an eye and 100m further up we were faced with the inescapable fact – the bridge was not complete. There was a 10m gap with nothing linking it and only a bit of rope separating us from a very very long drop down to oblivion. We felt stupid, wreckless, amused, bemused that we got this far on a major bridge under construction and most importantly, at a loss of where to go from here. Returning the 15km we had come from was out of the question, going backwards is beyond soul destroying. We were pointed in the direction of a town called Chishui on my map, 20km east along the river. This was a beautiful stretch but the road was abysmal for the whole 20km which took us 100 minutes. Half way along Zac’s rear left pannier came off as a screw had been loosened and lost by the constant bumps. Magic masking tape to the rescue once again. Everything is crumbling!! 1300 and 68km cycled, not the kind of statistics that will get me to Hong Kong in time, especially when the lunch stop was followed by a 750m climb of epic proportions. The smaller the road the steeper the switchbacks, and this was a small road. Again, stunning though! It began by cycling through vast orange groves before the corn field began on ridged sections of the mountain side, interspersed with lines of chilli plants and pumpkin rows. The road was also partly used to dry corn, peanuts and chillis and the sun was cooking our skin for the first time since the Tibetan plateau section. 

In my view there are 3 main roads we have encountered on this leg; 1. The highway, which, much like a bullet, whistles through the landscape. No mountain too big, no valley too deep. It just shoots through. 2. The secondary road goes as the crow flies. Normally close to the highway and still relatively direct but the odd thermal would momentarily blow the crow off course before returning. 3. The tertiary road which idly flutters like a butterfly. It has no real urgent agenda and is happy bumbling this way and that. It will get to its destination, sure, but in its own sweet time. We were on a butterfly road for this climb, far more beautiful than a crow or bullet, but sometimes you need the efficiency of a bullet. This particular butterfly seemed to have got a serious fright, perhaps from my 2 year old niece, Isabel, chasing it, and ascended very rapidly from 650m to 1,400m. It was no doubt a tough climb, but our fitness is quite obscene at this point and we were barely out of the breath upon reaching the top. We remained at the height of 1,400m for a while with little ups and downs, passing through towns and villages where we caused a bigger stir than normal. Clearly no tourists have ever been here and many photos were taken. To amuse myself, when hundreds of kids were standing around us and not one of them daring to initiate the conversation, I suddenly spun around and shouted causing them all to jump. Amazing. End of day 4 stats – despite the broken bridge, mud road, butterfly climb we knocked out a semi respectable 109km. Good considering the circumstances, but way short of the 160km daily average we need to be hitting. Especially as 20km of that was not going in the right direction, but returning to the road from the unfinished bridge. Not really a bridge then, as it bridges nothing to nothing.

Day 5, will keep it short as I’m getting tired. Managed to reach Bijie after 40km. Here the rain returned and a ridiculously muddy road appeared. Fresh tarmac, just covered in very muddy rain water. This all got transferred to me and my bike rather swiftly. There was not one inch of my body, clothing or bike that was not covered in dirt. You would have thought I was dipped into a mud pit. My mood, not wanting to dwell on it, was very dark. In the afternoon we were kicked off the highway twice, luckily the second time was for the exit to Qianxi, a town we had ear marked for a potential hotel stay. 150km cycled and we found a hotel for £26 (£13 each) which had a warm shower, wifi in our room, a bell boy who carried our now brown bags to the 10th floor, the friendliest staff ever, scales in the bathroom to reveal how much weight I’ve lost and a turn down service which included rose petals in the toilet.  After showering for 1 hour and attempting to hand wash the clothes it was time to check the distance to Yangshuo, which we had 4 days to reach. It was 800+km. This would be tough in normal conditions, but the last 5 days had been so full of setbacks that no single kilometre is easy anymore. This lowered my spirit, knowing that my initial plan of cruising into Hong Kong now needs drastic measures. First of which, alarms were now pushed forward to 0430. Mainly to get the mileage done, but also to get through the highway toll booths under the cover of darkness.

Day 6, in the saddle by 0525, ouch! The morning in the hotel was spent laughing while putting on wet and partly clean clothes and wondering what will go wrong today. For once, not a lot. We managed 205km mainly riding the highways and taking the ring road around the mega city of Guiyang. We had now become smarter in avoiding the police by always hopping over the barriers and not risking sneaking through the toll booths and hiding ourselves and our bikes during our snack breaks. Once we even dared enter a petrol station to eat by hiding our bikes in the bushes, putting on ‘civilian’ clothes over our lycra and waltzing in trying to stifle our laughter at what we were actually doing. It worked though 🙂 The mice were outsmarting the smug cat, ha! When I woke up I had very little hope of reaching Yangshuo by 4th October. However, after a near faultless day and 200+km in the right direction, hope crept back in. There was one minor hiccup, my front tyre exploded 5 minutes before pitching tent…no exaggeration, big explosion, like a firework. The tyre had run so thin that my inner tube began to hit tarmac causing it to pop. This gave me quite a scare. I am very lucky this happened on an uphill section and not whilst free-wheeling downhill at 40-50km/h. I tried not to think about that ‘what-if’, as all turned out OK. But it does make me think that literally anything can happen at any time. Fate is not bothered about me reaching Hong Kong by 11th October, it’s going to make it difficult to the end I’m sure. New inner tube in and Zac’s spare tyre on. Now neither of us have a spare tyre anymore.

We managed another 200+km on day 7, however there was no satisfaction in this one. The majority of the day was spent in tunnels on the highway rather than fresh air – no joke, it was relentless. The up-side is that we cut off 100km by escaping the secondary ‘crow’ road which has no tunnels. We also cycled 160km before lunch at 1330, very very stupid indeed. For those that know me, my mood deteriorates when I’m hungry. When I cycle 160km on 3 packs of Oreo’s, an apple, a Snickers and a shite breakfast I lose the plot completely. Perhaps Zac will touch on my mood more in his blog, but it was dark, very very dark. I cycled harder and faster than I have done in a long while, wanting to feel pain in my legs rather than in my stomach. I was going uphill faster than I would have been on a straight 5 months ago, shouting and cursing at everything and anything that dared get in my way. The reason the mileage was so high is that the highway had no food rest stops, just tunnels. 160km done, petrol station sign spotted, reached petrol station, petrol station empty. I go silent with fury. We head into neighbouring town and eat 2 packed noodles and 3 boiled eggs each as it was the only town in the country without a working wok. We decided to come off the highway as our diet was verging on the diabolical, and considering 160km had been cycled by 1330, we could take the afternoon easier. Little did we know that the slip road between the highway and the town of Congxiang was a 20km dirt track with a mini-pass thrown in for good measure. Zac joined me in the dark place and no fits of hysterics were had now. Now was the time to get the job done and reach town hoping we don’t explode with anger. We reached Congxiang by 1800, darkness was approaching and we promised ourselves we would treat ourselves to a hotel. This idea was soon squashed as it was National Holiday in China for a week, the whole country is driving everywhere and all the hotels were fully booked or not able to take in foreigners for some ridiculous reason. Instead, we found a dark spot on a spot of grass off the main road in the centre of town, collapsed and slept without tents. Forgetting about spiders and snakes we have seen over the last couple of days. We just wanted to put this day behind us!

I forgot to mention that my sleeping mat has now also completely had it. It has developed an inoperable tumour. Any air I blow into it goes straight into a football sized lump directly in the middle. Will any kit make it to Hong Kong I wonder? We left Congxiang at 0530 on day 8 and we both craved another 200+km day to make it a hat-trick of 200+km days. The morning went to plan, a beautiful ride along the river to Sanjiang for lunch after 110km. In the afternoon my poor bottom was beginning to ache, but this was no time to complain, it was time to man up. We reached Longsheng by 165km and we knew we would be leaving the valley to climb up and over to the next valley, we just didn’t know to what extent we would be climbing. It was by no means the highest, in fact it was probably the smallest ‘pass’ at 650m, but starting at 150m still made it considerable in height difference and it was continuously very very steep. This is the point where I have to give credit where credit is due. Zac cycled this whole section in 9th gear in one stint! Not being rude to people reading this, but to put this into perspective most of you would have struggled in 3rd gear, with no luggage and 3 breaks on the way. I was behind him all the way, but having the luxury of flicking through my whole range of gears. I wanted to keep up with him as there is nothing worse than knowing that someone will get to the top before you and therefore have a longer rest! I was in complete awe of what he achieved on this section and witnessing his stoical efforts filled me with huge amounts of British pride for some reason. We passed 4 Chinese lyrca clad cyclists with no panniers PUSHING their bikes up the hill – pansies! I know I should be pushing my chosen charity of Breast Cancer Care, but for no other reason than Zac’s single outrageous achievement on this pass please donate what you can via his website: www.zacplusbike.com. He is raising much needed money for a great charity, Water Aid. That’s all the praise you are getting Tin Cup, back to the day job of cycling. Harden up boy!

Reaching the top with my iPod in, I began to well up with tears. I’m not quite sure why, but this feeling has been occurring more frequently in the last few days. I am trying to suppress these feelings and emotions (which is difficult for me as I prefer to just release emotions), mainly because I don’t want to get carried away just yet. Still a way to go! At the top we also met a Chinese cyclist with 1 leg who did the climb, putting those other cyclists further to shame. This man put our achievements firmly into place, he is a true hero and inspiration! I can’t even imagine the pain and hurdles he goes through. Watching him, with a smile plastered across his face, got me thinking about life, dreams and goals. He clearly let nothing stop him from achieving his dream, nothing would stand in his way and that’s the way it should be! If there is something you want to do in life, whether it’s going on an adventure, setting up a company or simply asking a boy/girl you like out for a coffee, just do it. No excuses, it’s as simple as that, doing it. DO IT!

We reached our third consecutive 200+km day and felt rather chuffed with ourselves. We had a feast, a cold beer then set up camp. For some reason, unbeknownst to us, we set our alarms for 0400 the next morning to be on the bikes by 0500. This was just silly. I think our minds were subconsciously trying to push our bodies to the limit, seeing how much they could take and our bodies had no say in the matter. By 0630 we had cycled 30km. I’m not boasting about this, I’m writing this to tell you how absurd it was, especially as Yangshuo was now only 120km away. I guess we wanted to get there as quickly as possible so as to have an extra half days rest. This worked. We reached Yangshuo by 1230, handed 7kg of filthy & smelly laundry to a lady I felt very sorry for and were eating a burger and beer by 1400 on 4th October. The only mishap on the cycle in to town was Zac being smashed into by a motorbike causing some scratches and some wheel misalignment. I was more upset about it ripping my shirt he was wearing at the time, so I told him to man up for the last 25km into town. I’m kidding, it was quite serious and he was very lucky not to have come off worse. As with my front tyre explosion, there is no point in dwelling in the ‘what-if’s’. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been and that’s that, although it was quite bad. It’s just another wake up call that literally anything can happen.

This could well be my longest blog, but I have thoroughly enjoyed writing it and re-living the highs and lows of the last 9 days. I do hope you are still getting some enjoyment out of reading them. I know I don’t dwell too much on the places we visit, especially here in Yangshuo, which is gorgeous by the way, but there is so little time to write about everything! I have been learning more about China and it’s long & confusing history through various books on my Kindle, but I won’t bore you with the fascinating facts I’ve been learning, Zac gets an earful of that every morning during our inter-tent chats over rubbery bread and cold coffee. 

I will be leaving Yangshuo tomorrow, 6th October (NOT at 0400!), for what will be the final leg to Hong Kong. I’m not calling it the homestretch, as I’m sure there are some surprises left in store, but there are now no more rest days. I’m going to do my best to enjoy every last second of it; the last days of camping, stove cooking, smelling rancid, pushing my body to newer and higher limits and trying not to well up until I’m sitting in a bath by myself with a beer and a cigar. Then I might let some emotions escape. Until then it’s stiff upper lip and all that.

Thank you for reading and I will see you in Hong Kong, where pictures from Chengdu – Hong Kong section will be posted.

Love,
Mark

p.s. I’m nearly there 🙂
p.p.s. I have developed the sniffles today, with wild bouts of sneezing and Zac is showing no compassion or sympathy. Man the fuck up Mark!

* haha, made you look
** I know highway is American and I should be writing motorway, but they are called highways here so it seems easier. Apologies.
*** if you haven’t seen Tin Cup, I pity you. Kevin Costner plays a golfer who dominates a round of golf with a 7-iron. Zac is dominating the terrain in one gear.