HONG KONG

Hong Kong & Macau 

28 March - 5 May 2014

(0km – 36 Days)

 

28 March - Hong Kong

At seven o'clock the following morning, the bus arrived at the border. After crossing into Hong Kong, I decided to continue by bike but was stopped by police a few kilometres later. They informed me that cycling wasn’t allowed on these roads, and the area had no bicycle-friendly roads leading to Hong Kong. A few minutes later, the same bus I had taken earlier came by and picked me up, which I thought amusing.

Once on Hong Kong Island, I decided to try cycling and asked the bus driver to drop me off. I was amazed by how busy and developed the area was. Skyscrapers and high-rise buildings surrounded me, and buses and trams crisscrossed the island. I felt small and insignificant as I navigated through this massive city.

Finding affordable accommodation in Hong Kong was my top priority. Still, my plans hit a snag when I realised that the World Rugby-7s event was taking place that weekend, making it nearly impossible to secure a place to stay.

After searching, I managed to find a room at Alisan Guesthouse, but it was only their "staff" room which had a small bed and limited space. Despite its shortcomings, it was one of the cheapest options in Hong Kong, so I took it and continued my search for a place to stay for the night as the room was only available from the following day.

The only hotel with rooms available was the Holiday Inn, which made me question its value for money. Nevertheless, I planned to meet with Carlos, a South African friend who lived in Hong Kong, later that evening. Carlos had a meeting on the island, but once he was done, we met for coffee and had a long chat, catching up on the years we had missed. 

29 March - Hong Kong

The main reason for visiting Hong Kong was to obtain a new Chinese visa, so first thing in the morning, I went in search of the China Visa application centre, only to be told the longest they could grant was a seven-day stay. However, a bigger problem was that my passport was almost full, with only two empty pages.

Since access to the room at Alisan was only at 13h00, I roamed the city’s busy streets and was amazed by the large number of rugby fans dressed in their team colours for the big game. Despite my passport crisis, I pretended everything was fine and headed to the port, where a ferry ride across the bay was only $2.80.

Once back on the island, I climbed an escalator that led to Mid-Level. From there, one could walk to the tram station, taking people to the viewpoint. However, I didn't want to wait in the long queue and continued on foot.

The plan was to wait until the following day to search for the South African Embassy to enquire about obtaining a new passport, and then locate the China Resource Centre and see if it was possible to secure a new visa.

 

31 March

My endeavours were fruitless as the embassy informed me that a new passport would take four months. Despite this, I filled out the necessary forms, took pictures, and paid the fee. However, I had no intention of waiting for four months!

At the China Visa Office, the line was incredibly long. When it was my turn, the staff informed me that the maximum stay was 15 days and that one needed to provide proof of accommodation and transportation. I was frustrated and tempted to say, “Fuck that”, but instead, I gathered my things and took a coffee break. Later, I realised that I’d left my recently purchased umbrella behind. At that point, nothing surprised me anymore and best to expect the worst.

At least when the city got too much, there was always a temple nearby, including a few interesting ones. Dwarfed by the high-rises, these tiny temples offered peace and calm in contrast to the hectic city life. Giant incense coils hung from ceilings, from which smoke slowly rose. It's believed some of them can burn as long as three weeks.

To put matters in perspective, without a Chinese visa, I was virtually stuck in Hong Kong, from where it would require flying out. More urgent was a new passport, as most countries needed at least two empty pages.

 

1-3 April - Hong Kong

I revisited the South African embassy, to learn the procedure for my sister to collect my passport in South Africa, and courier it to me, as waiting four months wasn't an option. I then went to the Giant bicycle store to check if they could box the bike as I would be flying out of Hong Kong regardless of my destination. The only positive thing that day was that the umbrella was still at the coffee shop. When I picked up my laundry, I didn't check it as it wouldn't be surprising to find a few items missing. The rest of the day was spent trying to load a Garmin map of South Korea and Japan but to no avail. The only official Garmin map was their "world map," which one couldn't download but had to purchase on a disk or memory card that would be sent to you. Frustrated, I went to a pub, but they didn't have Wi-Fi, which was disappointing. Everything seemed to end in disaster, but I knew this unlucky and disastrous stage would pass.

It had been raining since my arrival in Hong Kong, and the weather wasn't perfect for sightseeing. Still, I considered staying in Hong Kong until the end of the month to give the planets time to align themselves. As I was still unsure about getting the passport, waiting until the end of the month sounded like a good idea, and it would significantly reduce the room rate in this expensive city. I also needed personal maintenance, such as dental work and reading glasses. A facial and pedicure wouldn't hurt either.

The next night, I spent time with Carlos and his wife Melody at a popular drinking spot in the famous Lan Kwai Fong Street. It was a lot of fun, and I didn't get back until the early hours of the morning.

 

4 April

Hong Kong is a hectic and competitive city. It’s said up to 2.8 million of the residents suffer from insomnia, a symptom of its hectic lifestyle, as the most common problem is work stress.

I joined the crowds and pushed and shoved my way along the narrow lanes, and when it got too much, I walked up the mountain to “The Peak”. The walk was pleasant, but as it was misty, there was no view, and I bused myself back to the city's hustle and bustle.

Back on level ground, I headed to the ferry pier and took the Star Ferry across the harbour to Kowloon to visit the night market and a few temples. On the return trip, I snapped a few pics of this famous city skyline.

 

5 April

April 5 was a public holiday called “Tomb-Sweeping Day” (Ching Ming or Qingming Festival). It’s believed that temperatures would rise from this date on, and rainfall would increase, indicating the time to start ploughing and sowing. The day was also for paying respect to the dead by cleaning the tombs and by offering flowers and food, two essential parts of the celebration. With cremation taking over from burying, most only offered flowers and food.

It appeared the younger generation paid their respects by shopping as the streets were jampacked. One could barely move due to the crowds. I headed to the dried food market where one should, at least theoretically, be able to cure all ailments. I don’t know what dried gecko is used for, but if you need it, you can find it in Hong Kong.

 

6 April

With time, I jumped on the MRT to visit the outlying areas and the Ten Thousand Buddhas Monastery. Due to the constant rain, the temple wasn’t as impressive as expected. What was far more amazing was the fact the Qingming festival was still in full swing.

The monastery was packed with people lighting candles and incense and placing flowers and food for their deceased relatives. I got caught up in the whole ritual. It wasn’t a morbid or serious affair; people were laughing, chatting and having a good time. I further noticed it wasn’t only the deceased’s favourite food that was provided but also, in some cases, a few beers.

On my return to the MRT, I spotted a trail and walked along the path without knowing where it would lead. It turned out to be a stunning walk up the mountain - lush and green without any sign of the city. I continued until the path ended at a Christian Institute with beautiful old buildings.

Keen to visit Po Lin Monastery, I made my way to Lantau. Once there, the bucketing rain, made for leaving the cable car ride for another day.

 

7 April

I visited the New Territories the following day and encountered a strange “tree-house”. Some say the Kam Tin Tree House was originally a study hall with a banyan tree beside it. Others say it was a temple, but what was sure was that, since the abandonment of the building, the banyan tree grew bigger and bigger and eventually wholly enveloped it.

Later, I was surprised to find an old walled village on this overpopulated island. The way of life in this walled village appeared to have remained very traditional. About 400 people live in Kat Hing Wai, and I understood that most still share the same surname.

In Hong Kong, horse racing appeared the main recreational passion among all levels of society. There seemed to be off-course betting branches on every corner. In the 1990s, all stables were moved to Sha Tin Racecourse, equipped with the world’s first parade ring, covered by a retractable roof and a Diamond Vision television screen that set a Guinness World Record. Hong Kong was said to have the highest racing revenue turnover in the world. Seeing the crowds studying racing papers, I could believe it.

 

8 April

Carlos introduced me to the local hiking group, and I went on the first of many hikes with them. At first, the weather was good, but once at the top, it started raining, and it continued raining on the return trip. Besides being wet, the walk was lovely. It's incredible to think it only takes 20 minutes to leave this megacity and find yourself in a lush and rural setting. Afterwards, Carlos and I went for a much-needed coffee, dripping water all over the coffee shop.

As the days passed, I became increasingly fond of Hong Kong. The city ran like a well-oiled machine, 24 hours a day. I loved the sounds of the town; the buses, the trams, the cars, the subways, the chatter at the sidewalk eateries, the distant music, the police sirens and car alarms. This constant humming made me feel at home and secure. The sounds relaxed me, and I drifted off to sleep, knowing the world was alive and well, without me caring for it.

 

9 April

As mentioned before, I stayed in Hong Kong to do a few things I’d neglected during the years. I, however, had so much fun I never got around to those tedious tasks. Finally, a hair appointment was made, and the day was spent at the hairdresser. I got the recommendation from Melody, and, interestingly enough, the salon's owner was a South African lady. With the hair done and dusted, I could at least tick one thing off the to-do list. Most people enjoy having their hair done, but I didn’t like anyone fiddling with it and was usually irritated when I got out of there.

 

10 April

The weather finally cleared, and good use of it was made by taking the bus to the top of Victoria Peak to see if one could get any pictures of the city. As always, it was a stunning bus ride, and the view from the top was equally impressive. Half of Hong Kong and all its visitors had the same idea.

 

11 April

I was off on my second hike early in the morning with the hiking group. Again, a beautiful walk along what was known as the Dragons’ back. We ended up at a scenic beach for lunch. That evening, I met with Mat (whom I met on the Tour d’Afrique ride) for a drink; it was good to see him, and I couldn’t believe he still looked the same after ten years. It seemed I was the only one ageing at a rapid rate.

 

12 April

The next day, I met Carlos and his daughter Natalie at Lantau Island, where we took the famous Ngong Ping cable car to see the Buddha. This 5.7-kilometre-long cable car stretched up the side of the mountain to the Po Tin Monastery. With views over Lantau Island and beyond, the ride is spectacular. It took climbing 268 steps to the 34-metre-high bronze Buddha which sat on a lotus leaf keeping a watchful eye over the island.

After visiting the Buddha, we bussed ourselves down the mountain, an equally spectacular ride. The small fishing village of Tai O, famous for its shrimp paste and its stilted houses made an interesting stop. A narrow footpath ran through the village, passing dried fish products, and I sadly spotted dried seahorse. With rumbling tummies, we made our way to a restaurant, and low and behold, would it not be South African, known as “The Stoep”. The location was fantastic - right on the beach, and the food was equally good. They served all the old favourites: bobotie, tomato bredie, and they even had a “braai”.

 

13 April

One of my highlights was joining Carlos and Melody on a family outing. We caught the ferry to Lamma Island, where a walking trail took us to a small fishing village for lunch. The walk led past stunning scenery and an old Kamikaze Cave, which, I believe, was constructed by the Japanese to house a flotilla of suicide motorboats.

Melody ordered (and paid for everything), and massive plates of food promptly arrived. The food (as usual) was delicious; although we did our best, we couldn’t finish it. After lunch, a ferry and bus ride took us to Stanley Market, where one could trundle around for hours. While having coffee, Melody returned with beautiful sandalwood fans for Natalie and me. I was spoiled rotten. As we strolled the market's narrow lanes, I as a gift admired a top but decided to give it a miss. On my return, I found Natalie had bought it for me. How generous of her. Too soon, the sun started setting, and it was time to return home.

 

14 April

I did nothing all day except sorting out photos and updating my diary. Afterwards, a tram ride took me to Kennedy Town, and I later returned for a foot massage. I had the whole treatment (including the tea - as it’s said to boost circulation and free the flow of the qi).

 

15 April

A tram took me downtown and to the local chop shop street. Instead of a signature, traditionally, people used hand-carved seals or stamps, typically in stone or jade, with their family name written in Chinese. These stamps were known as “chops”, and many say that, in a company, whoever holds the chop holds control.

Chop Alley was a little street lined with shops where you could get your personalised chop made at a very reasonable price. All shops had a beautiful array of choices and styles – round, square, irregular, and various sizes and colours.

The dried fish street was equally fascinating. To an outsider, the ingredients seemed an overwhelming random jumble. But I was told they were all carefully selected for their contributions to yin and yang, chosen to create balance in the body by traditional Chinese medicine. For instance, dried seahorses were used to remedy kidney and respiratory ailments and were said to help balance and clear up skin.

 

16 April - Macau

The following day was fun and exciting as I joined Melody, Carlos and Natalie for a daytrip to Macau. The ferry to Macau only took an hour, and what a fascinating little country. Macau was tiny and only measured 115 square kilometres. Being a former Portuguese colony, it was very different from Hong Kong. Firstly, the two official languages were Cantonese and Portuguese, and although Macau was equally populated, it seemed to have more low-rise areas. Well-known for its gambling halls, Vegas is the only place that eclipses Macau in gambling income. The big difference is that, beyond the gambling halls, one could find cobblestoned streets with a curious mix of Chinese temples and Portuguese buildings. The ruins of the Church of St. Paul, where only the façade remains, draw crowds of tourists, and it took a walk up the hill to get any half-decent picture.

Later, we dined at a Portuguese restaurant, after which we strolled around the massive casinos and stared in awe at the money spent.

 

17 April

A fun day was spent on a walkabout with the local photography group. The theme was visual density and great fun. I, once again, realised just how talented these people were - wow. Once done, we met for a beer, and by the time I went home, I was just in time to watch the light show at the waterfront. It was a beautiful, clear evening, and it was magical to be out watching the show.

 

18 April

Hong Kong was an extremely liveable city, and everything was convenient. I have to mention the Octopus card, which didn’t only get you on a bus, tram or ferry, but it could pay for your supermarket shopping, parking, fast food, sandwich and coffee shops, and a round of drinks in a pub. You just swiped and go. I loved it.

Up earlier than usual, I headed to Hong Kong’s New Territories. The further away from the city centre, the quieter the metro became. The plan was to locate the seldom-visited Ping Shan Heritage Trail. The walk was short but interesting; my favourite part was the moon gate at Chin Shu.

Miss Smarty-Pants took the camera but had no memory card. Oh well, at least it allowed me to experiment with the phone camera. Afterwards, I stopped off at the Wetlands Park, but being a holiday, the park was packed with families enjoying their day off. Someone said about 60% of the land in Hong Kong was countryside; with the land supply so tight and the need for accommodation so high, I wondered how long the country parks would remain.

 

19 April

I joined a lovely group on a short night hike that day. It took no more than 10 minutes, and we were out of the city and into the woods. Being a clear evening with great views, we chatted nonstop as we ambled along. Afterwards, the group again stopped at Slims for beer and snacks. What a great evening, and what a friendly group of people. Hong Kong is very cosmopolitan, and more than half the hikers were people from other countries residing in Hong Kong.

 

20 April

It felt like I had truckloads of karmic debt. The Universe had blessed me with so much love and random acts of kindness I didn’t think I could ever repay it. Today, I discovered someone had paid my Ace membership on the 365-project. How awesome was that?

 

21 April

My visit to the New Territories was to visit Carlos and Melody, and I was again impressed with the convenience of amenities in Hong Kong. Their complex was just as convenient, with everything one needed close by, from parks to shopping centres, movie houses and restaurants.

 

22 April

An online company was located which could arrange South African passports in as short as 15 days (instead of the embassy’s four months). After completing the forms, I decided against it due to the hefty price tag. The price, I should mention, included a courier service which collected and delivered the documents and passport.

The time arrived for the dreaded dentist appointment, which was never pleasant, but it had to be done. A follow-up appointment was made for the third, which was later than expected. I was getting itchy feet and was keen to get going.

 

23 April

A rainy morning made the perfect time to update travel logs and have a pedicure (long overdue, I should mention).

The best thing about Hong Kong was that it was probably one of the safest places in the world. There is no need for a “reclaim the night” movement here. I like that one could walk home late at night without worrying about personal safety.

Another reason I like Hong Kong is how cosmopolitan it is. Ethnic Chinese comprised the bulk of its population, but there is a sizeable presence of expatriates and people of different ethnicities. Many Indians could trace their roots in Hong Kong to when India was under British rule. Sikh soldiers participated in the flag-raising ceremony in 1841 when Hong Kong was declared British. It’s believed the earliest police officers in Hong Kong were Indians (Sikhs), and during my stay, the police force still had a few Indian members.

 

24 April

My early start was due to meeting hikers on Lantau Island for yet another hike. This time, the group followed the Olympic trail, which headed over the mountain to Discovery Bay, where lunch was had. With it being foggy, there was no view, but it was still an enjoyable walk past small rural settlements, something I didn’t expect in such a congested country.

 

25 April

The old streets of Hong Kong were lined with Chinese medicine shops that sold all sorts of exotic products, from herbal medicines to dried snake meat. In between the suppliers of the dried goods were TCM practitioners, some with a pot or two of prescribed herbs simmering in earthenware pots. I guessed they were good; otherwise, they wouldn’t still be around.

 

26 April

Walking the “Avenue of Stars”, I only recognised one person, the famous Bruce Lee. That evening, the hiking group again went on a short night hike. Carlos joined the walk, and we ended up at Slims for a beer and a shared plate of nachos.

 

27 April

I was sure getting my share of hiking as I set off on another hike. This time, we ended up at Stanley on the other side of the island. Some hikers left after the walk, but most stayed for lunch. Afterwards, a few beers were bought from the 7-Eleven, and we sat on the beach enjoying it.

 

28 April

First thing in the morning, I searched for a post office and mailed a letter to Amanda, permitting her to pick up the passport on my behalf. Gosh, I haven’t posted anything in years. It suddenly felt so old-fashioned. The stamps were, however, beautiful. After that little task was done, I continued to Kowloon and handed in my camera to be cleaned.

 

29 April

Just after midday, I joined Carlos for a walk along the old Lung Yeuk Tau Heritage Trail. It was a fascinating walk through 5 of the ancient walled villages. Most of these villages are enclosed by brick walls and fitted with an entrance typically facing east to generate a good feng shui. We met another traveller and joined forces for the rest of the walk. We ended up in Kowloon, where Carlos treated us to coffee.

 

30 April

For once, I had nothing planned and visited the hairdresser for hair treatment. As usual, it took forever; at least they offered you a glass of wine while waiting. Afterwards, I searched for a new nose ring, as I’d been wearing the same one for decades.

 

1 May

I caught wind of another photography walk, and being May Day (or Worker’s Day), the theme was “People at work”. With a beautiful bunch of people, we explored the markets and streets and, like the previous time, met for beer and to share photos.

 

2 May

As almost no one in Hong Kong had a garden the city’s urban parks were very well used and clever landscaping meant it never felt crowded. I was getting itchy feet and couldn’t wait for the 5th to move on. There was only one more dental appointment on the 3rd, and it couldn’t come soon enough.

With only two blank pages left in my passport, it would require jumping through some hoops to avoid countries requiring visas, or at least until the new passport arrived. Therefore, I opted for South Korea.

 

3 May

Finally, the third arrived, and I cycled the short distance to the bike shop to have the bike boxed, after which I visited the dentist and only emerged a few hours later. After all was done and in the company of Carlos and Melody, we had one last meal before my departure.

 

4 May - Hong Kong

I booked a dive and was up early to get the MTR to the pier because I had a day free. Our dive boat was impressive and resembled a liveaboard, with cabins, a lounge, a kitchen and a deck area - all very fancy. The dive, however, was a bit of a disappointment as the visibility was poor, and one could hardly see anything at all—at least the food made up for the poor dive as it was excellent. I didn’t even bother doing a second dive, which should tell you something about the poor quality of the water.

 

5 May - Hong Kong – Seoul, South Korea - By plane

With my meagre belongings packed, I hailed a taxi to the airport. The baggage fee came as a shock, but there wasn’t anything one could do but pay and get it over and done with. The flight arrived in Seoul three hours later (but the time difference made it four hours). It was discovered I couldn’t draw money but could at least pay with the card—what a pain. I contacted the bank and hoped it would all be sorted out by morning. At least I was on the move again. 

CYCLE TOURING CHINA (2) - THE SOUTH COAST

CHINA (2)

2795 Kilometres - 60 Days

27 January - 27 March 2014

MAP

PHOTOS

E-BOOK

27 January - Keelung, Taiwan – Xiamen, Fujian, China - By Boat

The Cosco Star was far more substantial than envisaged and resembled more a cargo ship than a ferry. As a result, there weren’t many people on board. The interior was quite luxurious, though. Cabins revealed six bunk beds in a cabin, but I was the sole person in my quarters. The ship rolled wildly, and best to stay put.

Reaching Xiamen, China, was around 9h30 and provided an uncomplicated entry into China. I changed my last Taiwanese money, drew a few more Chinese yuan and was excited to see what the area held.

Xiamen came as a bit of a shock; the town was massive, featuring high-rise buildings as far as the eye could see but scarcely a dot on the map. The city was situated on an island with the same name in Fujian’s province and connected to the mainland via a five-kilometre-long bridge. A ferry ran to the nearby Gulang Yu island (the distance couldn’t have been more than a few hundred metres). Still, the long ferry line made me give the trip a miss and instead headed to the nearest hostel. Hard copies of anything, including maps and guidebooks, were increasingly difficult to find, forcing me to invest in a smartphone, finally. Much of the day was spent trying to set the phone up and familiarise myself with my new toy.

Though the internet and Wi-Fi were available, Facebook and other social networks were blocked. Skype worked, and one wasn’t completely cut off from the outside world.

A stroll downtown revealed a bustling and modern city sporting a large and modern department store on practically every corner. Line-shops were selling all the latest gadgets and brand names; there sure was no trace of the extreme poverty of three decades ago. The town was busy but well organised and clean as a pin. Not even a tiny piece of paper could be seen anywhere.

Albeit a coffee culture took root in China, they remained a tea-drinking nation. Tea shops and tea houses abounded, and shops were stocked with beautiful tea sets, mostly quite costly. It further appeared the Chinese favour tiny teapots, barely large enough to hold half a cup of tea.

BaiJaiCun Hostel turned out pleasant, offering comfortable rooms, dorms, and a cosy lounge area. It was located next to Zhongshan Park, an old and well-established one where old men played card games under large overhanging trees. One-child families strolled or took peddle-boats on the canal. All in all, a delightful place to hang out.

The next day was spent exploring the city and a relief to find, amidst the concrete jungle, a real China, a place where people carried their wares in baskets dangling from the ends of bamboo poles. Shopkeepers sat on pavements outside shops, sipping tea from delicate china.

Wandering about, one could find the strangest things; one being a market selling what looked like bits and pieces from almost every endangered species worldwide. Gosh, there were even things resembling rhino horn - maybe it was.

I found myself firmly entrenched in the land of chopsticks and tea, both sold in abundance at markets. I hoped my proficiency with the chopsticks would improve. Being a port city, the fish market was another interesting place, where virtually each sea creature imaginable was on sale. A favourite appeared sandworm jelly. Sandworms were boiled into a jelly mould said rich in collagen. But, wrinkly as I was, I gave the jelly a miss.

 

29 January - Xiamen – Zhangzhou, Fujian - 90 km

What a frustrating day it turned out in this new country. My late departure was due to the assumption the ride would be a short and easy cycle to Zhangzhou. Regrettably, most of the routes tried prohibited bicycles. So it took the best part of the day hunting for alternative ways.

Riding into big and bustling, Zhangzhou was in darkness but, luckily, it sported budget lodging right in the centre. However, frustration in finding routes made me vow to buy a GPS. By the time the panniers were offloaded, a lack of food made me scurry to the nearest food stalls, and on my return, I curled up in front of the TV.

 

30 January - Zhangzhou – Yunxian - 101 km

The next day was much better as Zhangzhou was on the G324 and best to stay on it. Everything was a tad larger than life in China. The G324 was considered a small road and allowed bicycles. However, it still had three lanes in both directions and was excellent.

Even in a mountainous area, the gradient and biking were a pleasure. The weather played along, and the day became a T-shirt and shorts day. Chinese New Year was being celebrated and a noisy affair. The route led past firecracker shooting villages, vast tea plantations and tea houses. Finally, a large mountain came into view with approximately 30 kilometres to go to Yunxian. Still, the Chinese took no prisoners and dug a tunnel if there was a mountain. I was pretty happy about that.

Yunxian had a hotel right in the centre of town, next to the park, which in hindsight, wasn’t the best location. Being Chinese New Year’s Eve, fireworks started as soon as the clock struck midnight, and continued throughout the night. The fireworks of choice weren’t the shoot-in-the-sky-type crackers but the machine-gun-type, which one could buy in big rolls, closely resembling machine gun ammo. You only needed to light the first one, which then sets off the whole caboodle - bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, it went all night. I understood it’s a traditional practice to make as much “din” as possible to chase off evil spirits.

 

31 January - Yunxian – Chaozhou, Guangdong - 122 km

On leaving, the morning mist was lying low over the city. The streets were eerily quiet and covered in red paper from the nightly firecrackers. Even the usual breakfast establishments were still firmly shut. This was because Chinese New Year was celebrated over 16 days and the first day of the new year was a time to honour one’s elders. Hence, families visited their extended family’s oldest and most senior members. Therefore, the road was quiet and the ride turned out to be a good day of pedalling as the weather was excellent and the route flat.

With the hazy weather, the landscape was typical of old pictures of China featuring misty mountains in the background. There was much rubber-necking, and I feared them dislocating their necks the way they spun around to gaze at the foreigner. Later that same day, a chap pulled up and informed me he’d never seen a foreign woman cycling in China, hahaha.

The good conditions made pushing on to Chaozhou, but finding accommodation was a different cup of tea and took almost as long as the day’s ride. As expected, all reasonably priced places were full over New Year. Unfortunately, the most inexpensive hotels only cater to Chinese citizens. In the end, little option remained but to settle for a pricier abode as it was becoming dark and searching to find accommodation one of my pet hates.

Good use was made of the luxury room and all that was available. A walk downtown revealed dumplings and beer. With my bounty bagged, I returned to my digs for a hot and strong shower.

Each culture has its own idea of a bed and what it should constitute. In China, the beds were rock hard, and seemingly the fancier the hotel, the harder the bed. The bed was so hard my hip went numb, and I contemplated getting out my sleeping map.

 

1 February - Chaozhou

Early morning, less expensive digs were discovered at an inn in an old building down one of the alleys. At the fancy Chaozhou, I giggled as; apparently, the staff didn’t know what to do with a person on a bicycle. The porter looked awkward (although keen) trying to help pack the bike. Chaozhou was a historical and cultural city well known for its ancient temples. The remainder of the day was spent discovering its many attractions.

Taking the lack of Western tourists, feeling like the main attraction (other than Chaozhou’s ancient temples) didn’t come as a surprise. Nonetheless, I braved both the crowds and stares and began investigating the alleys and temples of old Chaozhou. The effort was well rewarded as the buildings dated to the Silk Route days. Most remarkable was the Guangi Bridge, originally a 12th-century pontoon bridge. Even though the current bridge was from a much later era, it remained a pretty sight. Not quite the bridge over the River Kwai but interesting, nevertheless. A large section of the old city wall and its gates were still intact.

Paifang Jie (Street of Arches) featured an abundance of street food and thus the place to head when hungry. Moon cakes were plentiful and immensely popular, but I hadn’t yet developed a taste for those strange cakes. It was a relief to discover the western version of Chinese food or western-style fortune cookies didn’t exist in China.

To me, China was a land of contradictions. All things were off the scale massive, yet, they drank tea out of kiddie’s tea sets. They were conservative yet modern. Construction occurred at a tremendous rate; still, an old world prevailed, featuring narrow lanes where residents still used pedicabs (albeit electric-assisted).

China’s one-child policy also seemed a bit of a myth and not uncommon to see people with more than one child. Campaigns encouraged people only to have one child, but many had more than one. I was only told one child received free benefits. Parents had to pay for the other children’s education, healthcare, etc. and this arrangement somehow seemed fair to me. Nevertheless, a person from a one-child family could legally have two children who received free benefits. Families from minority groups could’ve more than one child, but those employed by the government were only allowed one child. I tip my hat to the Chinese as they are the only country where politicians must lead by example.

 

2 February - Chaozhou

Chaozhou was immensely touristy, and rightly so, as the town had a fascinating history dating to the Maritime Silk Route trade era. Chaozhou was most famous for its opera, a traditional art form dating over 500 years and based on folk dances and ballads. Clowns and females were the most distinctive characters in a Chaozhou opera. Fan-playing and acrobatic skills were more prominent than in other types of performances. I didn’t see a show but discovered a tiny shop that made gowns, headdresses, etc., for the operatic stage.

Gongfu tea, first drank in the Song Dynasty, was still in high demand and remained an essential part of Chaozhou’s social life. Teahouses played Chaozhou music which included string instruments, gongs and drums, all very soothing.

 

3 February - Chaozhou – Cheonan - 93 km

Again, the weather was excellent, maybe winter was over, or perhaps it was only a warm spell, but I wasn’t complaining. My route still followed the G324, which ran through built-up areas much of the day. The ride wasn’t scenic, but the area wasn’t mountainous either. I only once attempted an alternative route but ended up going around in circles. I thought better of it and stayed on the G324 until I found a GPS.

China’s development was mind-boggling, but it seemed to enhance the experience when finding “Old China”. However, these finds weren’t around every corner. One had to look carefully, but you could still see pedicabs carting people to and from markets at a pittance. However, the food was reason enough to encourage anyone to visit China. The veggies were fresh, crisp and tasty, and the food included dim sum, noodles, dumplings, wonton soup and more. By evening the bicycle was hardly offloaded, and I hurried to the nearest food vendor - best not to ask what was inside - the food was delicious, and that was all that counted.

The 7 Days Inn impressed with its quality of finishes; pity the Wi-Fi was less than acceptable. At least, the connection allowed uploading a photo to my Photo of the Day project, but then died.

 

4 February - Cheonan – Lufeng, Guangdong - 111 km

The route to Lufeng wasn’t exactly picturesque, as the first part of the ride ran through a built-up area. The countryside wasn’t much better as the fog hung low and one could scarcely see anything.

The Chinese were quite friendly, and those who could speak English usually stopped to chat. A friendly guy on a scooter pulled up and we chatted a while. I enquired regarding a map of Guangdong Province and he said to follow him. We located a map at a bookshop, which he paid - how kind of him.

On arriving in Lugeng, the road passed an inexpensive-looking place and I decided to stay. Each room (even budget ones) came with a complimentary sealed comb, toothbrush, toothpaste and shower cap.

This day marked the fifth day of the Lunar Festival or Chinese New Year and, officially, the end of winter and the first day of spring, and tradition to eat spring rolls on that day. The day further revealed a few taboos: no sweeping the floor and no scissors. People were shooting firecrackers this time to scare away poverty. Still, I assumed the noise enough to scare away poverty and wealth. The news revealed that 108 million people travelled by train during the first week of the holidays. I was happy in a very un-touristy part of China.

 

5 February - Lufeng – Huidong, Guangdong - 135 km

I woke to a drizzle, but the weather wasn’t cold, and the cold front brought a tailwind. With that in my favour, I pushed on and made the best of the good conditions. Nothing much came of the rain, and, by midday, the rain jacket came off.

My route ran past vast fields of strawberries where one could pick your own. I didn’t pick any but did stop to take a photo or two. The traffic was irritating as vehicles drove on the wrong side of the road or turned without looking or warning. The random hooting served no purpose and defeated the object.

The sixth day of the New Year was sending away the poverty ghost. As a result, people discarded old clothes and rubbish and, at roadside shrines, lit candles to lighten the road for the ghost of poverty.

At the first hotel in Huidong, the receptionist ignored me. The Chinese seem to do that. When they don’t like a situation they ignore it, hoping it will disappear. It worked, as I went to the hotel next door. At a reception desk, one would think it fairly obvious what a person was there for. A limited number of questions and answers should conclude the deal. Theoretically, it should be easy. Besides that, the phrase “I want a single room. How much is the room per person per night?” was written down and all they had to do was read it. The poor people got so flabbergasted that they couldn’t even read their language. At least when it came to food, one could point to what you wanted.

 

6 February - Huidong – Zengcheng - 120 km

According to legend, Nüwa was the goddess who created the world. On the seventh day after creating the world, Nüwa created human beings from (obviously) yellow clay. On that day, with the divine power entrusted to her, Nüwa made the clay figurines come to life (I always surmised God was a woman). The seventh day of New Year, therefore, celebrated the event.

Maybe this was an event celebrated at home as the road was dead quiet. As soon as someone could speak English, they would ask: “Why are you travelling alone?” I was subsequently informed that for the average Chinese person travelling alone to a foreign country was the most unsettling and terrifying experience they could imagine.

China was developing at a head-spinning rate, but the ever-present water features, gave even built-up areas a peaceful vibe. My hotel, hence, featured a massive water feature. Water in front and mountains behind was one of the most positive feng shui layouts and what feng shui masters have always sought. Therefore, most buildings, especially hotels, had water fountains or koi ponds at the entrance.

 

7–10 February - Zengcheng – Guangzhou, Guangdong – 80 km

On departing, the route led past the city park, a large and impressive one and the greenery took the sting out of the concrete jungle. Even though new and significant developments were taking place everywhere, these developments included plenty of parks, large and spacious pavements and separate bicycle/motorbike lanes, making these new megacities bearable.

The path west continued over the hills and past rural settlements until Guangzhou arrived. Guangzhou, known historically as Canton (from the Canton Trade Fair), was the capital and largest city in Guangdong province. Situated along the Pearl River, the town had a pretty setting. It was the third largest city in China with a population of 12.78 million.

It took forever to cycle to the hostel. I stuck to the Inner Ring Road like glue, hoping the road would eventually spit me out close to the hostel. On reaching the intersection which turned off the Ring Road to cross the river, I didn’t find a bridge as expected. Still, a ferry carted citizens and bicycles across at a Yuan. I followed suit and uncovered the ferry dock on the other side, right at the hostel door. How lucky was that? The hostel had a pretty setting on the Pearl River, the third-longest river in China, measuring more than 2,000 kilometres.

While unpacking, the weather came in, and I considered it a luxury curling up under a fluffy duvet.

I went from shorts and T-shirt to all bundled up overnight. The cold front brought freezing weather, howling wind and bucketing rain. Happy as the proverbial pig, I watch this dreadful weather through the window.

With time on my hands, I took the plunge and ordered a Garmin, which meant staying in Guangdong for the next few days until it arrived. The delivery time was a mystery, but the weather was miserable and waiting not a big deal.

A break in the weather allowed exploring this delightfully different country. Old yet modern, conservative but up to the minute, frantically busy yet peaceful. I dawdled around this vast city which was downright placid and beautiful in the absence of the masses, whom all seemed to have gone home to their families for the holidays.

This normally atheist nation appeared incredibly open to the “opium of the masses”. Religious stats is a tad of a slippery fish. Still, approximately 30% of the adult population followed Buddhist, Taoist, Christian, Islam or other beliefs and the remaining 70% considered themselves atheist. It must’ve been a highly active 30% as a temple appeared around each corner. The many temples weren’t surprising as China had always been the cradle of religious philosophies like Confucianism, Taoism and Buddhism. These three philosophical teachings played a significant role in shaping Chinese culture.

Although a big and modern city, I assumed it would be an old part as Guangzhou had a rich history dating to the ancient Silk Route days. It didn’t take long to find narrow, winding streets revealing small, dark and dusty workshops where coppersmiths were bent over their work, oblivious of me.

I operated in low gear as I suspected the Garmin would take a few days to arrive. I strolled past antique shops sporting the most exquisite ceramic vases, beautiful furniture and jade carvings, along tree-lined canals and past old colonial buildings, constructed by the British and French in the 19th century after being granted permission to set up warehouses.

 

11-12 February - Guangzhou

I took to the streets, and it became a day of finding small but exciting things. Down a narrow pedestrian lane was the humble house of the Father of Chinese Railways. The union was down a different path for actors playing martial arts and acrobatic roles in Cantonese opera. Interestingly, the house next door was the ancestral house of Bruce Lee, not surprising, as his father was a Cantonese opera actor.

The most exquisite ivory (albeit politically incorrect) carvings were displayed at one of the temples. Whether or not one approved, you couldn’t help but stand in awe of the incredible detail. Sadly, my photography didn’t do the carvings any justice. I further learned ivory trading in China wasn’t open to all. At the beginning of that year, the government destroyed more than six tons of illegal ivory. Ivory trading was legal, provided it came from a government-registered dealer. In addition, each carving had to carry a certificate of provenance.

The Cathedral of the Sacred Heart, built by the French after the Second Opium War, was made entirely of granite featuring two massive towers, each standing 48 metres high. Returning, I stopped at the supermarket but shopping remained challenging.

While already standing out like a sore thumb, taking pictures was equally challenging. Still, at times, it felt like one was only different once. After that, everything you do (acceptable or not) is written off as you being a foreigner.

The temperature plummeted to a mere seven °C, and best to stay put until the weather improved. Quite unbelievable how the weather could change. Frozen solid I wondered what happened to my resolution of “Never to leave the tropics ever again”. The strangest thing was that the hostel didn’t offer heating and was like a fridge. Mercifully, my sleeping bag came in handy and I thought it time to head south.

 

13 February - Guangzhou

Nothing came from the Garmin ordered, and a taxi took me to a large centre selling electronic equipment. One was bound to find something there and locating the Garmin stand was easy. Unfortunately, they didn’t have the one I was looking for. In the end, I bought a pricier one providing loads of features I would most likely never use. However, the store owner was kind enough to install the China map in English and the rest of the evening was spent fiddling with the Garmin. I’d my doubts about this expensive toy.

 

14 February - Guangzhou - Jun’anzhen - 82 km

I was like a child with a new toy and couldn’t wait to fit it on the bike and start riding. From time to time, I checked the map to see if I was on the right track as I didn’t entirely trust the Garmin. However, it worked like a charm and peeped every time one changed direction. Finally, it took me to a place named Junanzhen, which had a hotel, and the rest of the evening was spent downloading the day’s information. Quite a magical little thing.

 

15 February - Jun’anzhen – Chikan, Kaiping, Guangdong – 101 km

I clipped in the Garmin and resumed my ride through the countryside, and what a charming countryside Guangdong province turned out. The way led past ancient-looking villages and along canals until arriving in the Kaiping district.

The landscape around Kaiping was most remarkable, revealing several small but old villages housing fortified multi-storey towers constructed in the 1920s and 30s. The towers (diaolou) served two purposes: housing and protecting against bandits. These towers weren’t exactly ancient - the oldest was barely over 100 years old, but they were pretty remarkable. The towers were scattered around the countryside, and the plan was to visit them the following day. There were approximately 1,833 Diaolou still standing in Kaiping. Twenty of the most symbolic ones were inscribed on UNESCO’s World Heritage List.

 

16 February - Around Kaiping – 40 km

With the weather still bitterly cold and dressed in all my warm clothing, I headed off into the countryside, first to the pretty village of Zili, where most of the towers were.

The story goes: In the mid-19th century things weren’t going too well in the region. Slavery was outlawed in most western countries, which created cheap labour. Many people in the area were recruited. Good pay and working conditions were promised. However, workers were made to work as labourers under terrible conditions. Of the millions of Chinese workers who left many died, and only a few became wealthy and returned. They brought with them wealth and exotic ideas. The towers were built to protect their families from bandits, flooding and Japanese troops.

 

17 February - Chikan – Yangjiang – 95 km

On leaving Chikan, the weather was foggy and not much to see. The going was easy, and I’d no reason to stop as the breeze was from behind. A few towers were sprinkled about, but nothing interesting happened. With the iPod stuck in my ears and to the tune of good old “Brucey”, I stepped on the pedals and cycled the 100 kilometres to Yangjiang.

 

18 February - Yangjiang – Dianbai – 105 km

The mornings were always foggy and once I attached a flashing light and donned my bright yellow rain jacket I proceeded in a westerly direction towards Hainan, where the climate was rumoured warmer. Even if not cold, it started raining, and I pulled into Dianbai.

 

19-21 February - Dianbai – Zhanjiang – 113 km

The stretch between Dianbai and Zhanjiang was effortless biking, albeit still misty and with light rain. With little of interest, I played with my electronic toys, of which I had a growing number by then. None, however, did me any good, and the fancy Garmin was still to find me a meaningful place or route. Google Maps on my phone did a better job at finding things.

The day turned out another 120-kilometre ride, and on slinking into Zhanjiang, I encountered a bridge where cycling wasn’t allowed. The Garmin pointed me to the ferry port where bikes and motorbikes were ferried across and onto a cheap(ish) hotel. I, subsequently, discovered it not a river but an inlet of the South China Sea.

A desperate need to do laundry called for staying an additional day. Unable to find a laundromat, I started doing the laundry, but the hotel staff came to the rescue. However, it was unclear when the laundry would be returned. Shopping, typically, took double the time than anywhere else, and I spent nearly the entire day finding the few items needed.

My abode was right opposite the market, making it easy to pop in to find a bite to eat. But, convinced the meal contained dog meat, I went without supper.

 

22 February - Zhanjiang – Leizhou – 60 km

Luckily, the laundry was returned in time. As the internet stated, a ferry operated between Zhanjiang and Hainan. So, I searched for the jetty. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much information regarding the boat and no sign of it; maybe, it didn’t exist. A small road ran further south in Hainan’s direction, but being already late, I didn’t think I would reach the island before dark and settle for a night in Leizhou.

 

23 February - Leizhou – Haikou, Hainan Island – 105 km

I hadn’t seen any westerners since my arrival in China a month ago. Thus, not unusual to get a few stares as I was completely different from the Chinese, in practically every way. My every move was scrutinised and the fact that I was travelling solo not something the Chinese could wrap their heads around. While they didn’t say it, it looked as if they felt sorry for me, you could see it in their eyes. Why someone would want to take a vacation to a foreign country by themselves wasn’t something the Chinese understood.

People on scooters could cause accidents the way they swung around to look, and people in cars slowed down, holding up their toddlers to get a glimpse at the strange woman. Likewise, stopping in a village to get a drink was something of a circus. Some were curious, and others were scared; several came closer, a few kept their distance, some pointed, and others giggled. A little boy summed it up nicely - he looked up in surprise, and all he could utter was, “WOW”. His little sister was utterly dumbstruck; her eyes went big, and her mouth fell open, quickly retreating a few steps.

Not having spoken to anyone in weeks, I feared losing my voice. With the iPod blaring in my ears, I sang along at the top of my lungs. I sped off over the hills bellowing the lyrics of “Cocaine” and “I Shot the Sheriff”. I got a few more strange looks, but I threw in a “Ni-hao” and a wave and continued belting out songs’ lyrics from yesteryear. And to think, all while entirely sober.

 

24–28 February - Haikou, Hainan

I arrived to do the dreaded visa extension and paid for two nights’ accommodation at the Banana Hostel. First thing the following morning, I hunted down the Public Security Bureau (PSB). I couldn’t believe I’d been in China an entire month. Locating the office was easy, but the counter was closed and I was told to return after 14h30. I further required a note/letter of sorts from the hostel. After obtaining the necessary items, I returned to the PSB. The process consisted of a fair amount of “form-filling-in”. Once photographed and fingerprinted, I was told to collect the visa in four days. Fortunately, Haikou had loads of interest and thus enough to keep me occupied.

I stayed in Haikou and did little apart from meandering the city’s old part revealing many antique shops. The amble also gave plenty of time to play with the macro lens.

Four days passed and, eventually, time to pick up the visa. Returning, I followed my nose down crooked alleys and curving streets. The smell of fresh dumplings and roadside barbecues hung in the air as old men played board games in parks while cigarettes dangled from their lips.

 

1 March - Haikou – Wenchang – 109 km

Hainan was a popular cycling destination amongst young people, and I encountered many college kids en route to Wenchang. Unfortunately, the ride was unimpressive, and even the beach area was horrible, revealing far too many high-rises and dust from more developments being constructed. In addition, the ride was windy, and I battled into a stiff breeze.

 

2 March - Wenchang - Bo’ao - 66 km

In the morning, a short and pleasant day of pedalling led to Bo’ao, through small villages and past farmlands where crops were ready to be harvested. Fish farms were going ten to a dozen, and many small shrines lined the road where devotees burned incense to their preferred deities.

As the island was a popular multi-day cycling destination, I again met a few cyclists biking around the island. Bo’ao had a cheapish room, dumplings and beer, making it an excellent place to overnight.

 

3 March - Bo’ao - 50 km

Twenty-five kilometres beyond Bo’ao, I realised I didn’t have my GoPro. Convinced the camera was left behind, I returned to the hotel in Bo’ao. Once there, of course, there was no sign of the camera but I stayed the night, only to uncover the camera in one of my panniers!

A short stroll led to the beach that sported a temple rich in colours, textures and light. Nevertheless, the deities were enough to put the fear of God into anyone. Returning, I stumbled across a delightful little coffee shop housed in an old, traditional stone house. A lovely, leafy garden provided wooden tables under giant umbrellas. Inside, the cafe was chock-a-block with antiques and arty bits and bobs. Last but not least, the coffee was served in real china.

 

4 March - Bo’ao – Xinglong - 95 km

The many cyclists encountered were all on their way to Xinglong. As the town was said, the location of a hot spring that sounded pleasant, I followed suit. Not feeling too well - it must’ve been something I ate - I pushed on to Xinglong. The cyclists I met earlier that day had already located budget accommodation; they showed me where to go.

Xinglong was over-developed and touristy, and I didn’t even go in search of the well-known hot spring as I could imagine what that would be like. Instead, seeing I’d pick up a knee problem, I spent the evening indoors.

 

5-7 March - Xinglong – Sanya - 118 km

There wasn’t much one could do concerning the knee, and though the map indicated a hilly stretch, I cycled over the mountains. The strange thing was the knee was 100% while riding, weird.

A pleasant cycle led past rural villages and farmlands before hitting a big and lively Sanya with its 20-kilometre-long stretch of beach. Afterwards, I went straight to Dadong Hai, where the map indicated a hostel. Backpacker Hostel turned out pleasant and tucked away behind high-rises and slap-bang in the middle of the action - a real haven.

The following day was spent doing close to zero, only wandering to the beach and around the corner to find food. Surprisingly enough, the area was highly built-up, and the dominant languages, both spoken and written, were Chinese and Russian. With sunshine all year round, temperatures hovered around 25°C, even in January and, consequently, immensely touristy. The area produced pearls in abundance and was sold all over the place. Giant clams were considered endangered, but shells were sold at all the shops.

Sanya was an excellent place with interesting people to talk to, and one more day was spent in town. Still concerned about my knee, a knee guard was purchased. I rubbed the knee with locally purchased Chinese lotion and slipped on the tight knee guard, most likely made to fit thin Chinese legs and not my stompers.

 

8 March - Sanya – Huangliu - 103 km

I packed up, took a few pics in the company of the hostel staff, and started out through the town area in a westerly direction. Thirty-five kilometres beyond Sanya, a large Buddhist temple complex begged to be explored.

The place was swarming with tourists, and thousands milled about, and I couldn’t get my head around the hefty entrance fee to such a fake and artificial setup. Nevertheless, I joined the madness, snapped a few pics, and then quickly escaped. It needs mentioning that at the centre of this spectacle stood a 108-metre-tall Buddha statue on a human-made island, larger than the Statue of Liberty!

The rest of the day was more “normal” – past small hamlets until spotting a welcoming-looking guesthouse featuring a few mobile food carts and I called it a day.

 

9 March - Huangliu – Changjiang - 128 km

It turned out a pleasant cycle through a beautiful countryside past small traditional villages where farmers still ploughed the field in old-fashioned ways. Changjiang offered accommodation on the main road, signalling the end of the day’s ride.

These new and large cities weren’t as daunting as they appear from further afield. Seeing they were well planned, things were where one envisaged. The roads were wide and the traffic flowed freely. The separate cycle- and motorbike lanes made biking easy.

 

10 March - Changjiang – Jialai - 116 km

Time was spent packing up before pointing the bicycle in the direction of Haikou, again meeting other cyclists and a journalist who took a few shots and asked a few questions. The scenery was particularly lush and green. I assumed it was a tree-planting project, as trees were everywhere, and thought it just a little too organised to be natural. However, the authorities further beautified the road with dense and colourful plants, making the ride pleasant. Not thinking one would find accommodation along the route, it was a surprise to stumble upon a small village sporting 50-yuan rooms.

As was the norm by then, I popped across the road to get a takeaway meal, as eating under such intense scrutiny remained uncomfortable. While waiting for the noodles, bystanders didn’t take their eyes off me for a second. Being stared at like that was pretty embarrassing. They didn’t even blink while inspecting my feet and hair and were shocked by my bare arms, which had been clearly exposed to the sun.

 

11 March - Jialai – Haikou - 108 km

Due to the perfect weather – overcast but not cold, I set off in high spirit. The way ran past many small and scenic villages where I stopped to buy lunch but ended up carrying the food to Haikou (due to the staring), where the Banana Hostel was my abode of choice.

 

12 March - Haikou

Outside Haikou was a volcano park, and, although not expecting much, I still investigated this area. According to geologists, the last eruption occurred roughly 13,000 years ago. One could walk up to the old crater rim which overlooked the countryside. I could see other craters from the rim in the distance, said almost 36 in total.

Far more exciting was the nearby Rongtang village; a historic, lava-rock village built entirely from volcanic rock. The town was constructed roughly 900 years ago. Rongtang was largely abandoned, but a few elders live in this unique historic village. Besides, the area still had old lava tunnels. A 90-year-old lady (all bent over) offered to show me the tunnels. So, we set out; homemade torch in hand (bamboo, cloth and paraffin). Many of these caves were interconnected and were used as hiding places from the Japanese during the war.

 

13-14 March - Haikou

The days came and went, and I hung around the hostel, not doing a great deal. A crowd from the Hash House Harriers (primarily Australians) were in town for their annual get-together - they were a pleasant bunch.

There wasn’t much one could do losing a lens cover but take a walk downtown to find another one. The stroll was a pleasant one through the old quarters and city park. The parks were large, lush and always provided plenty of water, making them peaceful places to stroll and watch people do Tai-chi. The pavements were lined with hawkers, selling colourful umbrellas, steaming pots of corn-on-the-cob, and rice in banana leaves.

 

15 March - Haikou, Hainan – Beihai, Guangxi - By ferry

Departing the hostel to cycle to the port, I ran into a German couple on bikes. We chatted a while before I realised they had a small child in the trailer. Their 4-year-old daughter was quite happy sitting in the trailer listening to stories—what a remarkable family. I could barely get myself up the hills, let alone pull a child and trailer.

Instead of returning to the mainland the way I came, I assumed it more interesting to go via Beihai, slightly more West, saving me backtracking the 150 kilometres to Zhanjiang.

Surprisingly, I was somewhat of a celebrity on the ferry. Apparently, a few days earlier, an article covering my travels was printed in the paper, and just almost everyone knew I was South African. Mainly they were astounded that I’d sold all my possessions. My newfound fame got me a cabin all to myself. Being an overnight ferry, we only departed at around 7 p.m.

 

16-17 March - Beihai, Guangxi – 6 km

The ferry arrived in Beihai, dead on time, but I couldn’t locate the bike lock key. Give me strength, where could it have gone in such a small cabin? There wasn’t anything to do but cut the lock. I met two German ladies travelling by bicycle at the pier waiting to catch Hainan’s ferry. They started off hitchhiking but somewhere along the line bought bikes and continued their travels by bicycle. By then, they’d been travelling the past year and a half. From the harbour was a short six-kilometres to 21 Degree Hostel, situated right in the old part and a convenient place to stay.

Beihai had a wonderful old part, a bustling river and fishing harbour, making exciting sightseeing. Wandering through the historic quarters, music coming from an open doorway called for an investigation and I was promptly waved in—what a pleasant thing to sit there and listen to them rehearsing.

By morning, fog and a howling wind made staying put. The market was, as always, a fascinating and colourful place. The veggies were fresh and plentiful; as foreseen, no Chinese market could be complete without its woks. Only the seafood was slightly out of the ordinary, as they seemingly ate the strangest sea creatures. Then, on the other hand, it could’ve been bait. The oysters weren’t eaten raw (like barbarians do) but cooked on coals and sprinkled with spices.

The Chinese food was delicious, super fresh, crisp and tasty. You could pick your seafood from the tank, which the chef then cooked in whatever manner you preferred.

 

18 March - Beihai – Qinzhou, Guangxi - 106 km

Leaving Beihai, the fog slowly rose, revealing small and quaint fishing villages. To my one side was the ocean and to the other, an inlet or river with picturesque and busy harbours. The path eventually left the coast and slowly veered inland through dense forestry plantations and past sawmills and other wood-related works.

I stopped next to a lady on her tricycle at the traffic light. I said “Ni-hau” and she said “Hello,” and we both laughed as we knew these two words were the total of our foreign language vocabulary. She continued in Chinese, and I replied in English: “Yes, I am going to Nanning and I was from South Africa.” One never knows, maybe that’s what she asked. Then, the light changed, and we waved goodbye like old friends.

 

19-20 March - Qinzhou – Nanning, Guangxi - 127 km

Shortly after departing Qinzhou, the route deteriorated as it veered inland over the mountains to Nanning. Not much further, the road turned into a muddy, potholed mess, to such an extent that it required walking the bike through the thick mud.

Covered in mud, I battled onwards, fearing it would be impossible to reach Nanning that day. Then, as if this wasn’t enough, a bee stung me right on the jaw. Halfway to Nanning, a restaurant provided an outside tap, allowing spraying of the bicycle down. Still, soon the chain and gears were all clogged again.

This condition prevailed until virtually 30 kilometres from Nanning. Finally, I crawled into Nanning at around 18h00, covered in mud and dead tired, only to find the hostel I’d in mind had closed down. Give me strength! Not eating all day, I was in no mood to search for a different hostel and booked into the first hotel spotted.

In the morning, feeling refreshed, I cycled to the nearby Green Forest Hostel, where a room was more expensive than the hotel (I could’ve taken a dorm bed, which would’ve been way cheaper, but I had an evil plan). But, at least there were people to talk to, and I could do laundry and wash my muddy panniers (in the shower). It turned out to be Spring Day and a good day to do spring cleaning. I stayed at the hostel as they arranged Vietnamese visas at no added cost. Vietnam was within striking distance, and the plan was in heading that way. So, after handing in the passport, all I’d to do was wait.

 

21 March - Nanning

With plenty of time, a stroll into town revealed an outdoor store. The intriguing thing was that instead of the usual lightweight knife, spoon and fork set used for camping or hiking, the shop sold chopsticks and a spoon. Now, why did that surprise me?

A cool thing about hostels is that they are mainly well situated, close to almost anything. The Green Forest was no exception and, best of all, close to the night market – my favourite eating place. The only negative thing was they were located on the third floor, and one had to schlep the bike and panniers up two sets of stairs. Here, as in other countries, they refer to the ground floor as 1st floor, then 2nd floor and then 3rd floor, whereas, at home, we usually say ground floor, 1st floor, and 2nd floor.

I eagerly awaited the night market’s opening to get my bowl of wonton soup. I understood the literal English translation of the word “wonton” was swallowing a cloud; quite an apt description when looking at the dumplings floating in the soup, and they were delicious.

 

22 March - Nanning

Determined to get pictures of modern Nanning, I enthusiastically started down the pedestrian mall, past lines and lines of designer stores.

China was a wonderful country, and I was in awe of its achievements. They managed to raise over 400 million people out of extreme poverty in 20 years - 14 years ahead of their 2015 target date. Of course, people quickly point out China’s negatives, but their success in the battle against poverty was undeniable.

Back to my story of the day, there were opportunities to capture modern Nanning. Still, behind MacDonald’s, Pizza Hut and KFC were tiny alleys. I weakened and headed off down the dark and narrow lane. The area was a fascinating one. People still pushed building materials in three-wheeled carts, laundry hung from lines strung across the cobblestone lanes, and traditional single-storey dwellings were adorned by red lanterns. Interesting-looking doorways led to unknown destinations and sagging tiled roofs, crooked windows and doors made far more interesting pictures than the modern structures. Great was my excitement when, by rounding a corner, I came upon the silversmith hard at work, melting and pounding tiny silver pellets into fine jewellery.

My passport and Vietnamese visa returned, leaving only three more visa pages, meaning I was in dire need of a SA Embassy.

As the day wore on, I wasn’t entirely sure going to Vietnam was such a good idea. Having already cycled Vietnam, the only reason for going there was to pass the time (waiting until the weather improved) before heading to Shanghai, situated in the opposite direction. However, the more I looked at my options, the more apparent it became that it would be a costly diversion, whatever my decision.

 

23 March – Nanning - Tong’ an - By bus

Emerging, I still wasn’t 100% sure which direction to go. The first stop was at the train station to inquire regarding a train to Xiamen, where I started, and from where the plan was to head east. It turned out no train operated between Nanning and Xiamen (or at least not one on which one could take the bicycle). I’m convinced there was, but it involved a change of trains and could’ve been too much for the Chinese to explain in their limited English.

This was all too much trouble, and better to head out of town in the direction of Vietnam. In the process, the road led past the bus station. I stopped to enquire, and by 14h30, was on a sleeper bus en route to Xiamen. How was that for a change of plans? Actually, it wasn’t a change of plans. The idea from the start was to head west to Nanning before returning to Xiamen and then cycle towards Shanghai to catch a ferry to South Korea.

The bus was comfy and provided (small) individual beds (barely wide enough for me), but at least one could be horizontal. How long the ride would take wasn’t clear, and all settled in for the (anticipated) long haul. Said an express bus, we hardly stopped. Only once, at around 20h00, did the bus stop, allowing all to grab a bite to eat

 

24 March - Tong’an, Fujian – 20 km

At around 7h00, I woke with a start and was informed I’d reached my destination. The bus had stopped beside the highway, and disorientated I hurriedly stumbled off the bus. I felt somewhat abandoned being left like that.

My phone told me I was twenty kilometres outside Tong’an and luckily didn’t have to approach anyone to ask where I was. Imagine that! Far too tired to cycle onto the next town, I opted for the shorter 20 kilometres ride to a nearby hotel. I put all my devices on charge, had a shower, got something to eat, and had a nap.

 

25-26 March - Tong’ an – Quanzhou, Fujian - 90 km

The following day was effortless riding to Quanzhou, and what a large city. It took pedalling quite some time before eventually crawling into what was known as the old part.

My second month’s visa was to expire in three days. So I thought extending the visa in Quanzhou was a good idea before proceeding. Still, the person dealing with the visa wasn’t in the office and I was told to return the following day.

The old part turned out interesting and offered several beautiful temples. The parks were pleasant and well planned; people were running, walking, and boating, and the parks even had piped music. There were three parks in the less than three-kilometre walk to the old mosque.

In the morning, I returned to the police station – this time to be told they didn’t do visas at that branch and I wondered how they didn’t know this the previous day. They kindly gave me a ride and then pointed me in the direction of the visa office.

Sadly, I was informed they couldn’t extend an already extended visa. So now, what was that all about? I subsequently learned that Quanzhou was notoriously problematic for extending visas.

I could’ve tried at another town but ran out of time and couldn’t waste one more day. My best option (I presumed) was to retreat to Hong Kong and apply for a new Chinese visa once there. At the bus station, a ticket was purchased to Hong Kong. The bus only departed the following day at 21h00 and I understood it would reach the border after 10 hours.

Once all the formalities were done, enough time remained to investigate the area. In the process, I came upon an old mosque. The Qingjing Mosque was built in 1009 and is the oldest in China.

 

27 March - Quanzhou

I was operating in low gear as there wasn’t much more to do but drink coffee and visit old temples. Eventually, the time came to board the bus; luckily, it was a “sleeping” bus, sporting little bunk beds, and one could lie down quite comfortably.