CHINA (3) - BEIJING TO SHANGHAI1003
Kilometres – 25 Days26
October – 23 November 2016
25
October – Mong Cai, Vietnam – Qinzhou, China – 100 km
Once
checked out of Vietnam, I headed towards my new destination. It took walking
the bike through the passenger terminal in the company of what felt like the
entire Vietnamese and Chinese population, all wanting to lend a hand. The Chinese
immigration loomed ahead, and I felt as out of place as an orangutan on the
streets of Cape Town. Locating the immigration office was challenging enough as
I couldn’t read the Chinese script and didn’t speak the language.
Exiting
the building, I was immediately transferred into a foreign country and a world
of unprecedented bombardment of the senses. The immigration officers could
either not read the Latin alphabet or something was wrong with the passport. He
continuously peered at me and then at the passport, held it up to the light,
and inspected it from all sides. Maybe they’ve never seen anyone from “Nanfei”,
or they thought all Africans were black. It took forever, but eventually, the
passport was returned, and I was waved through.
My
first stop was the ATM in the daunting border town of Dongxing, where I drew
4,000 Chinese yuan and then searched for a mobile phone shop to buy a SIM card.
I was observed in silence while staff nervously reached for their phones. I
could just as well have landed from Mars. Unfortunately, a SIM card was only
available at the main office, and I was escorted there by one of the ladies, resulting
in it being 11h00 before getting underway with money in my wallet and a SIM
card in my phone. Two things that always made me feel more secure.
My
route headed in the direction of Qinzhou, a reasonably substantial city. Once
on the outskirts of vast and sprawling Dongxing, I veered off onto a minor road
and could breathe a sigh of relief as it turned out a delightful cycle past
rice fields with little traffic. Although considerably slower and a place where
the road signs were useless to me, the countryside made for pleasurable riding
past, understandably, surprised-looking villagers.
As
the weather came in, I cycled through huge cities, which seemed to go on
forever. The towns all appeared intimidating from a distance but
straightforward to get through, as they were new and well-planned. The hours’
time difference was welcomed, but it also meant the time was six o’clock
instead of five, and being winter, it got dark early. Finally, in the dying
moments of the day, I rolled into Qinzhou. I opted for the first available accommodation,
and what a posh place it was. The price was almost double what I typically paid.
Still, the establishment was new and fancy, and I needed a break from the
madness. Naturally, food was first on my mind, after which I tried doing
laundry in a hand basin, clearly not designed for doing laundry. Still, the
fact they had a drying rack right under the aircon unit was a bonus.
26
October - Qinzhou – Nanning – 127 km
The
room rate included complimentary breakfast, a fascinating affair. Heaps of
stir-fried veggies, chilli, boiled eggs, and soy milk
was at the order of the day. Then, with a belly full of Chinese food and enough
heartburn to make me feel like the fire-breathing dragon, I searched for a route
to Nanning.
Getting
underway was relatively effortless, but soon the dreaded roadworks re-appeared
and slowed the going through potholes and muddy ponds. It didn’t take long before
the bike and I were covered in mud. One couldn’t do a great deal about the
potholes but try to avoid the worst of it while staying out of harm’s way.
Fortunately,
all things come to an end, and I soon cleared the construction area. Although picturesque,
these old villages were abandoned as the occupants were moved to the city to alleviate
poverty (which it did). Cycling into Nanning was quite a mission as not merely
was it home to 7.1 million people, but it sported massive highways, flyovers
and roadworks.
People
stopped to snatch a few pics; others hung out car windows mobile phone in hand.
Covered in mud, I must’ve looked quite a sight. It took forever to get to the
city centre and, halfway, my GPS stopped working. Aargh! Eventually, I arrived
at the hostel, conveniently situated in the city centre, but on the third
floor. I was in no mood for schlepping panniers upstairs. Still, following a
few huffs and puffs, I was comfortably nestled in a cosy room.
27-28
October - Nanning
I’d
planned to do a considerable amount, but somehow nothing got done. From Nanning,
it made sense to take a train to Beijing and cycle south to Xiamen, where I
left off last time.
Armed
with a note from the hostel about where and when I wanted to take the train, I ambled
to the train station. Like virtually all places in China, the station was a large,
bustling place but, eventually, I’d a ticket. Regrettably, only top bunks were
available, which all warned to avoid.
Once
all was done, a bus took me to Yangmei, an ancient village on the outskirts of
Nanning. The bus ride took an hour and a half for the 25 kilometres, giving an
idea of the condition and steepness of the road.
The
village is famed for its well-preserved ancient architecture of the Ming
(1368-1644) and Qing (1644-1911) dynasties. Founded during the Song Dynasty
(970-1279), Yangmei was firstly named Baihua (literally all sorts
of flowers) because of the many flowers that grew in the area.
I
wandered around for an
hour or so, and as the last bus to Nanning was at 4:30 p.m., I soon returned to
the bus station.
29-30
October – Nanning – Beijing – By train
The
following morning, I saddled up and pedalled the short distance to the train
station. Fortunately, I already had my ticket as all trains were full, albeit six a day. Getting the bicycle booked in was a relatively painless
affair. The baggage area was in the next-door building, where the bike and bags
were weighed. I was warned the bicycle and I might not arrive simultaneously. I
thus rearranged my panniers, keeping in mind the bike and panniers may arrive a
day or two later. I paid almost the same for the cycle and panniers
as for myself.
Like
practically all trains, the train bunks were stacked three high, the top bunk
having no window and truly little headroom. As passengers were lying down, few
places were available to sit, apart from two foldout chairs and a little table
in the passage. The result was one was very much in the public eye. Not only
did everyone in the vicinity want a selfie with the foreigner, but people also
came from the other coaches to witness what must’ve been a rare event. In the
end, I climbed onto my bunk, to give myself a break from the ongoing photoshoot.
The
snack trolley came around at regular intervals, loaded with cup noodles and
other popular Chinese snacks. The urn at the end of the coach was in high
demand. However, all was well organised. Each bunk had a set of snow-white
linen, and cleaning staff came around regularly, mopping and sweeping the
passage.
The
following day went by uneventfully as we chugged our way past beautiful
scenery, flying past way too quickly to my liking. Finally, we reached Beijing
shortly after 5 p.m. and in darkness. I slept well as the train ran smoothly,
and I barely knew I was in a moving vehicle.
My
bicycle wasn’t on the same train (as predicted), and I searched for nearby accommodation.
I walked and walked but couldn’t find any at a reasonable price, and to my
frustration, the cheapies didn’t allow foreigners. Worse was it wasn’t the
central train station as foreseen. Instead, the train stopped at Beijing West, ten
kilometres west of my intended destination.
In
the process, I realised Beijing was an expensive mega-city, easily on par with Europe
and America. In the end, I opted for a taxi ride to the hostel I’d in mind. The
first two taxis wanted 200 yuan, which I thought was a tad steep and returned to
the taxi stand at the station, where a taxi was 50 yuan. Even a bed in a dorm
was more than I typically paid for a room. I further came to the shocking realisation
October was already too late in the season for this part of the world. Cold in
my skimpy clothes, I was ill-suited for the October climate in Beijing.
Fortunately, the building was heated, and I slept well.
31
October – 2 November – Beijing
My
priorities changed, and I set out to search for cold-weather gear. Teeth
chattering, I located The North Face and requested the warmest jacket they had
in store. Thank goodness for a translating app.
An
unpleasant surprise awaited when I wanted to pay as both cards were declined. I
was in utter shock and hurriedly returned to the hostel, where I contacted the bank.
The verdict was I’d incorrectly entered my pin too many times. Weird, as I knew
the number by heart. The result was the card was blocked, and to make a long
story short, it couldn’t be rectified. However, the debit card still worked. So,
all I needed was to inform the bank of my new location. Afterwards, I headed
towards the train station to collect the bicycle and panniers.
Returning,
I managed a frozen half-smile as I realised I was biking in Beijing with 23
million people. I felt small as I biked past the famous or infamous Tiananmen
Square. Marvellous, absolutely marvellous! I ducked and dived through the
traffic and, once at the hostel, re-tried the debit card. At least this time,
it spat out enough money to purchase the costly goose down jacket. With cash in
my wallet and a warm jacket on my back, I breathed a sigh of relief, and for
the first time in 24 hours, I felt relaxed despite the frigid conditions. Donning
my new jacket and gloves, I grabbed the camera. My walkabout took me past the Forbidden
City and Tiananmen Square. I passed busy Beijingers in
thick coats and gloves rushing off to work and felt privileged to be in this
remarkable city.
3
November – Beijing – Anpingzhen – 80 km
In
the morning, I cycled out of Beijing. I’d all the warm clothes I could wear,
from a beanie to gloves and from a down jacket to thermal underwear. Leaving
Beijing (like any big city) wasn’t an exciting affair, but the town boasted wide
cycle lanes along most streets. The idea was to follow the ancient Grand Canal
of China. I, therefore, continued in the direction of the “start” of the canal
at Tongzhou Canal Park.
The
Grand Canal is a substantial waterway system running between Beijing and
Hangzhou 1300 kilometres further south. Constructed in the fifth century BC, it
created the world’s most extensive engineering project prior to the Industrial
Revolution. By the 13th century, it consisted of more than 2000 kilometres of
artificial waterways, far surpassing the Suez and Panama Canals. The canal was
placed on the UNESCO’s World Heritage List in 2014. Although I didn’t think one
could cycle right next to the canal, I wanted to give it a try in the hope of
uncovering fascinating historical titbits.
Thirty
kilometres of riding brought me to the official start/finish, from where a comfortable
cycle path followed the canal for a few kilometres. The air pollution was terrible,
and one could barely see anything. The air quality was so poor I could scarcely
breathe and suffered a blocked nose despite using a nasal spray. I was
seriously considering a face mask like almost all Chinese wore. I was sure it
would merely be a matter of time until a lung infection set in. Due to my late
departure and ambling, I only went 80 kilometres before calling it a day. Being
winter, the sun set around 17h00, and I didn’t want to push my luck too far.
4
November – Anpingzhen – Tianjin – 80 km
I
was in no hurry as I anticipated a short ride to Tianjin. Nevertheless, the
temperature was even lower than the previous day, and the weather extremely
foggy. I doubted whether the traffic could see me, and I tried making myself as
visible as possible and stuck to the side of the road as best I could. Unfortunately,
the fog never lifted, and I could barely see a few metres ahead. Freezing, I
tied plastic bags around my feet and hands to try and keep warm. As expected in
weather like that, I
encountered a few horrendous pile-ups, causing back-up traffic kilometres on
end. Nevertheless, I was happy on a bicycle, weaving through the stationary
traffic, and was soon on the open road.
I
pulled my new jacket tight, put my head down and headed straight for Tianjin which
I believed sported a lovely old town. During the foreign era, the British and
French settled in, joined by the Japanese, Germans, Hungarians, Italians and
Belgians. Each concession was a self-contained world featuring a prison,
school, barracks, and hospital. The result is that the old town is littered with
impressive Western architecture.
The
Three Brothers Hostel indicated the end of my day’s ride. Afterwards, a stroll
around the Wudadao revealed charming European-style houses. The old town stood
in sharp contrast to the modern city with its KFC, Burger King and McDonald’s.
For a moment, I’d to rethink whether I was in America or China. Soon, it became
icy, and I retreated to the warmth of the hostel where I was the sole person in
an 8-bed dorm — bliss.
5
November – Tianjin
Only
emerging at 9h30 made me stay the day. First, I’d to make peace with the fact Old
China was no more and New China was a dull, westernised, modern, and sleek affair.
Young people sat sipping coffee in hip-looking cafés, and white-dress wedding
stores abounded. I searched for signs of old China but sadly saw no sign of it
except a few small alleys tucked in behind Walmart, McDonald’s, KFC, Carrefour,
and Starbucks.
The
riverfront (part of the ancient Grand Canal) was a modern high-rise business
area, and one couldn’t help but think where it would it all end. Nevertheless, a
few side streets provided typical Chinese and inexpensive eats. I made sure I’d
my fill before returning to the hostel and the touristy prices of shops in the
old town. In China, there is nothing quite like a bowl of steaming dumplings in
a dark, low-ceiling hole-in-the-wall eatery.
6
November – Tianjin – Cangzhou – 110 km
The
ride to Cangzhou was a miserable affair and I had to remind myself there were
days like that. At least the weather was marginally warmer and, around midday,
I could lose the down jacket. Unfortunately, no sign of the ancient canal could
be traced, and I cut a straight line to Cangzhou. The entire way remained congested
and built up, apart from 20 kilometres through sad-looking farmlands. The
highlight was one or two forgotten
villages. Older men shuffled along, past corn drying in the sun and villagers, gazed,
mouths agape.
It
must’ve been an industrial area as a vast area, easily 20 - 30 kilometres,
consisted entirely of truck repair workshops. Biking into Cangzhou wasn’t scenic
either; dirty graffiti-covered walls screamed discontent in a foreign language,
half-built high-rise apartment blocks were a depressing sight, and abandoned
residential areas, accompanied by ongoing roadworks made for a miserable approach
to the city.
With
it being already late, I wanted to find accommodation in a hurry. Unfortunately,
the first three hotels didn’t cater to foreigners, and the only one found was a
luxurious international establishment. I needed money, but the first bank
wanted nothing to do with me and spat my card out. Fortunately, the second bank
was kind enough to give out a few bucks, enough to pay my costly abode. The
room, large as a dance hall, came with all the mod-cons. I’d a quick shower and
then popped across the street for a bite to eat. The food was dirt cheap and
delicious, making up for a not-so-interesting day.
7
November - Cangzhou – Dezhou – 117 km
I
don’t know why I slept in; it must’ve been due to the cold and thus 9h30 by the
time I departed. It took close to an hour to do the 10 kilometres out of the
city centre. Like the previous day, little of interest happened and I gunned it
to Dezhou - not that I could gun it; a better description, would be I picked up
the pace a tad.
With
the icy weather, I didn’t stop as often as I usually did. At first, I was
concerned I might not make it to Dezhou before dark - not a big deal as I could
pitch a tent just about anywhere. However, the warmth of a building would be
preferable in the arctic conditions. Fortunately, the going was good, and I
arrived in Dezhou in good time.
Finding
budget accommodation in China had become a pain in the ass as the less pricey hotels
didn’t take foreigners. Searching for a place to stay is one of my pet hates,
and this shopping around at the end of a day left me a bit long-lipped.
Mercifully, the third hotel allowed foreigners, came at a reasonable rate, and
the receptionist could speak a little English. I dropped my bags and headed
straight to the dumpling stand. I, typically, ordered a considerable amount of food.
Vendors assumed the order was for two people as it usually included two sets of
chopsticks.
8
November – Dezhou – Ji’nan – 127 km
The
best part of the day was in the mornings and when markets and stalls were in
full swing. Steam from dumpling
stands rose thick and high in the crisp morning air. People in warm coats
gathered around, rubbing their hands in an attempt to stay warm. I couldn’t help
myself and followed suit to the great amusement of the villagers. They chatted
away, but, of course, I didn’t understand a word. So, I followed their example
and rubbed my hands together, grinning foolishly.
I
set off, with a steaming bag of dumplings dangling from the handlebars, in the
direction of Ji’nan. The going was slow as the ride led into a slight breeze,
and I didn’t appreciate the flat tyre. For me, the most common cause of flat
tyres was riding over exploded truck tyres. Their insidious steel wires worked
their way through just about any tyre, and no less two of them were stuck in my
tyre. Schwalbe tyres are excellent but, at times, a real pain to get on and
off. Eventually, the new tube was in and the tyre on.
I
continued past vast vegetable plantations and a few brand-new towns not even on
the map yet.
Cycling
I wondered how many trees have
been planted in China in the past ten years or so as, for the most part, roads were
tree-lined, and each town featured several massive parks. But then, there’s the
impressive Great Green Wall, which will eventually consist of almost 90 million
acres of new forest stretching 2,800 miles across northern China.
In
any event, it was already late by the time I slinked into Ji’nan, a vast city that
took forever to get through. Unable to locate the Chengbei Hostel, I opted for the
Home Inn. By then, already dark and freezing, I scurried off to the closest
restaurant and spent the next two hours eating.
9-10
November – Ji’nan
I
stayed put as I desperately needed to do laundry and pick up a few things from
the supermarket.
With
great sadness I learned the outcome of the US election, although I’m not at all
interested in American politics or which party or person runs their government.
Still, I was sad as so many people backed a blatantly hateful, racist and
chauvinistic leader. The fact that the KKK backed Trump was an indication
something was seriously wrong in this world of ours.
In
a sombre mood, I packed up, but once outside encountered a 35 mile an hour
wind. There and then, I offloaded and planned to wait out the weather. Fortunately,
there was no need to cycle in such inhospitable conditions, and I, most likely,
wouldn’t have made it to my next destination.
So,
instead, I wandered around the shiny new city of Ji’nan which sported all the
brand names one can imagine. However, most of the day was spent exploring the pedestrian
lanes of Ji’nan, sampling intriguing and delicious snacks. Finally, utterly
stuffed, I returned to the warmth of my hotel to check the weather forecast, which
didn’t look all promising.
11
November – Ji’nan – Taishan – 80 km
I’d
no intention of staying an additional day in Ji’nan and was happy the wind
subsided to some extent. Fortunately, it wasn’t far to Taishan. Albeit the day
didn’t provide exciting riding, cycling into a typical Chinese town was a
highlight. The hostel I’d in mind was situated right in the heart of the old city.
Taishan
is one of a few sacred mountains in China, and worshipped since the 11th
century BC. The area is, therefore, a significant tourist destination. However,
I wasn’t sure if I was in a mood to hike up the mountain in the miserable
weather. So, instead, I visited the towns’ temples, traditionally visited by
pilgrims prior to heading up the mountain.
The
narrow alleys were lined by mobile food carts spewing steam and heavenly aromas
and thus made an easy place to grab a bite to eat.
12
-13 November – Taishan – Qufu – 73 km
The
weatherman predicted a slight tailwind and warmer than usual weather. So, I wasted
no time hopping on the bike and heading to Qufu.
A
pleasurable ride led to Qufu, the hometown of Confucius and a UNESCO World Heritage
Site. The old walled city is beautifully restored, and the hostel is a lovely
old building.
A
stroll around town revealed the Kong Mansion, where I learned Confucius’s
family name was Kong Qiu. Still, the honorific Kong Fuzi was attributed to him.
I further understood the Latinised name “Confucius” is derived from “Kong Fuzi”
and was first coined by 16th-century Jesuit missionaries to China. In any
event, the Kong Mansion, while stunning, isn’t where he lived (I think, seeing
he lived between 551–479 BC.); still, this was his ancestral home.
I
made a turn at the Temple of Yan (521–490 BC), said to be the favourite temple
of Confucius. Soon, I became hungry as I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and it
was time to go in search of my favourite dumplings.
An
additional day was spent in Qufu as I loved this little walled village from
ancient times. I must’ve taken close to 200 pictures as the light and the
colours were beautiful. I bought nasal spray as my nose was constantly blocked.
I further managed to put more data on my phone, all things not simple when
unable to speak the language.
14
November – Qufu – Tengzhou - 66 km
I
was in no mood for riding, and it took me forever to pack up and thus it was already
late by the time I pedalled out of foggy Qufu. Fortunately, the weather was lovely
and warm. Even so, I dragged my heels and made slow progress.
The
route to Tengzhou was planted under so many trees it felt like cycling through
a forest, making lovely views and colours. In Tengzhou I called it a day, as
there’s no point in biking when I don’t feel like it.
15
November - Tengzhou – Tai’erzhuang – 93 km
Forty
kilometres into my ride, a sign pointed to Tai’erzhuang, said to be an ancient
village. I threw a sharp left and followed the signs through the lovely countryside.
Tai’erzhuang,
established in 221–207 BC, owed its existence to the Beijing–Hangzhou Grand
Canal and was situated roughly midway along the canal. The town was mostly
destroyed during the famous or rather infamous Battle of Tai’erzhuang in 1938. However,
the city has been reconstructed and is now a popular tourist destination.
I
sought out inconspicuous-looking digs where I found the male receptionist fast
asleep behind the counter. The poor man woke with a start, seeing a foreigner.
He must’ve thought it a nightmare. I handed him my passport, which he promptly returned,
and I was sure he couldn’t read Latin script. What followed was heaps of OK,
OK, OK, hands-together bowing. What a spectacle we must’ve made. In any event, the
place turned out nice if one overlooked the soiled carpet and hair on the
bathroom floor. Still, once settled, I couldn’t stop laughing at the sight we
must have made. The price was right and the bedding clean, no complaints there.
Outside, a lady made and sold crispy pancakes filled with stir-fried veggies, accompanied
by a glass of hot soymilk. Delicious.
16
November – Tai’erzhuang – Pizhou– 50 km
In
the morning, I first cycled through town to investigate the “ancient town” and
my efforts were well rewarded. Tai’erzhuang was an old city, situated along a
strategic railroad and canal junction. I envisaged it no more than one or two
buildings, but it consisted of an entire village. Albeit reconstructed, it
remained a lovely place
to wander. The Battle of Tai’erzhuang occurred during the Second World War. This
was a significant victory for China over Japan, trying to invade China. This battle
was the first major Chinese victory in the war, and it broke the myth of
Japanese invincibility.
Returning
to the bicycle, I wanted to check the map and realised I’d left the phone in
the handlebar-phone holder. Aargh. I’m such a “loskop”. To my utter surprise, the
phone was exactly where I’d left it. I love China! Already long past midday, I
changed my route and rode the short distance to the next town via country lanes.
My chosen route was clearly not a touristy area, judging by the attention my
presence received. I further discovered that along this route, the Grand Canal was
still in use after all these years - fantastic stuff.
17-18
November – Pizhou – Xuzhou – 80 km
I
planned to visit South Africa once done in China as my Mum turned 90. In
Pizhou, I’d a good look at my options as I was coming to the end of my
one-month visa and had to extend it or leave China. Prices of flights were fast
increasing, reaching their highest around mid-December. It seemed a better
option to fly out while ticket prices were still affordable and return to China
later in 2017 when the weather would be more pleasant.
I
thus booked a flight, but with too little time to reach Shanghai in time, a
train ride seemed the best option. The following morning, I cycled to the next
town. A slight tailwind made for relaxed riding to Xuzhou, a colossal city and
not all attractive. I biked straight to the train station, where there were plenty
of hotels from which to choose. I settled for the 7 Days Inn and then strolled to
the train station to buy a ticket.
19
November – Xuzhou - Shanghai
I
took the bicycle and panniers to the baggage department, where everything was
weighed and booked in. I paid for a late check out as the train’s departure wasn’t
until the evening, and around 20h00, I headed to the station. Once there, I learned
my train was 9h30 in the morning and not in the evening. I don’t know what all
the fuss was about a sleeping car. Fortunately, I could change the ticket to a
later train, but this time could only get a seat and not a sleeper.
The
trip turned out somewhat uncomfortable in an awfully full train. I inquired
about a sleeper and around midnight I was in luck. A great deal of talking took
place over a two-way radio and each one in the coach looked at the foreigner,
causing such a disturbance. Soon I was led off to a coach where I could stretch
out until the morning.
20-23
November – Shanghai, China – Cape Town, South Africa
We
reached Shanghai at the ungodly hour of 5h00 in the morning and where the
streets were still eerily quiet. I caught a taxi to the hostel but found them closed.
However, a security guard said I could sit in their restaurant area until the staff arrived.
Sadly, the hostel was fully booked, and I
opted for an abode around the corner. I never had a burning desire to visit Shanghai, but it came
as a pleasant surprise. The city is graced with an ensemble of old buildings.
Next, I walked the short distance to The Bund, a former concession area and
home to lovely art deco architecture. Initially, The Bund was where the
concession era trading took place; from rice to opium, it all happened here,
the “Wall Street” of its time. Finally, I returned via East Nanjing Road, where
the first department store in China opened in the 1920s. Today it’s a lively
pedestrian mall and home to the world’s leading fashion names and a gigantic
Apple store.
I collected my bicycle from the train station
around four kilometres away and searched for a bike box. Afterwards, I met up
with a Facebook friend Ingrid De Graeve, who was living in Shanghai at the
time.
Then it was time to pack up and head to the
airport for my flight to Cape Town.
/Images/Image1.jpg){kind=link}
/Images/Image2.jpg){kind=link}
/Images/Image3.jpg){kind=link}
/Images/Image4.jpg){kind=link}
/Images/Image5.jpg){kind=link}
/Images/Image6.jpg){kind=link}
/Images/Image9.jpg){kind=link}
/Images/Image11.jpg){kind=link}
/Images/Image12.jpg){kind=link}
/Images/Image15.jpg){kind=link}
/Images/Image20.jpg){kind=link}
/Images/Image22.jpg){kind=link}
/Images/Image23.jpg){kind=link}
