Across Continents

Ken's Blog

Repressed souls

October 14th, 2010

Bookcase - web

Explicit imagery. Of a mostly sexual nature. Vivid. Enlightening to some, dark and deviant to others. Freud, I’d decided, must have had a very troubled childhood. Or a remarkable, if disturbed, imagination. I’d returned to Charley John’s cafe for breakfast, curious to see how their "Full English" compared to the efforts of "Fat Boy’s" back in Bishkek.

Found myself inexplicably drawn to the bookcase on the far wall. Alongside the tame travel guides, I’d found Freud’s "Interpretation of Dreams", a worn, if recent, edition of "Lolita", and a well thumbed copy of "Memoirs of a Geisha". The latter catching my eye because the author was a man. All presumably deposited by fellow travellers. Some repressed souls amongst them.

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A very English encounter

October 13th, 2010

CJ cafe - internal - web

Charley Johng’s cafe. John’s was deserted. Inside a young English woman. Travelling west, by train mostly, her husband somewhere in the Gobi. Beijing-Paris rally. In a Bentley. Admired his courage. His style. But thought her choice of transportation probably more comfortable, even in the confines of a cramped sleeper.

Louise and her husband Peter were from Hampshire. Yes, I explained, knew their town well. Or at least I’d passed through it many times on the train. With hindsight, thought it probably came across as faint praise. Which it wasn’t. Just an observation. My conversational English a bit rusty.

[To learn more about Peter’s – accompanied by brother David – ventures in the Beijing-Paris rally, visit peking2paris.wordpress.com]

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Around Dunhuang

October 12th, 2010

Dunhuang. A small city, an oasis in the Gobi. Popular with Westerners travelling the Silk Roads. But not now it seemed. The season was drawing to a close. The Friendship Cafe was undergoing refurbishment. Even John’s Information Cafe, who’s Turpan outpost I’d tracked down a while back, was quiet. Barely visible behind a tall, overgrown hedge.

Friendship cafe - web

Charley Johng’s cafe, a short walk from rival John’s, was similarly quiet. Little custom to vie for. Just one solitary Westerner tapping away on an internet terminal in the corner. And Charley, it seemed, as elusive as John. Next door, even the tat shop had wrapped up its camels for the winter.

Camel - wrapped up - web

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Chinese medicine

October 11th, 2010

Antibiotics - web

I’d made an important discovery. Replenishing antibiotics in China is relatively straightforward. Name written in English on the box. Just a question of pointing to the right one in the pharmacy. But the much more important, and elusive, was Loperamide Hydrochloride. Better known by its trade name “Imodium“, it’s the drug of choice when faced with a tenacious bout of traveller’s diahorrea. Stocks were depleted, and waiting for a further dose before hunting for more had struck me as a particularly bad idea.

Much smiling. And shaking of heads. I’d tracked down the Simplified Chinese on the web for both the brand and generic names. Had been particularly diligent to copy out the characters with absolute accuracy. Didn’t want to inadvertently end up with the wrong medication. With some embarrassing side effects. But, in each pharmacy, I drew a blank.

Couldn’t believe there wasn’t the call for anti-diahorreals in China, nor could I imagine they’d rely solely on traditional Chinese medicine. In the right circumstances I’d probably give anything a go, and I’m sure there is some substance to the various concoctions. But, given the choice between, say, half a rabbit’s foot, a dose of the placebo effect, and some chemically contrived tablet with proven effectiveness, I’m definitely with the latter. But perseverance pays. My eighth pharmacy – incidentally, a very lucky number in China – and success.

[And for anyone caught, well, short I suppose, in China for Loperamide Hydrochloride, the images below might be very helpful indeed…]

LH - front - web

LH - back - web

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Through the Gobi

October 10th, 2010

Through the Gobi from Ken Roberts on Vimeo.

Ken describes his crossing of the most challenging part of the Gobi desert, and eventual arrival in Dunhuang

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Cottoning on

October 9th, 2010

Cotton pickers - web

The desert ended abruptly. The Dunhuang Basin. Cultivated crops. Workers dotted across the fields, small groups mostly. At first I thought they were picking tea but somehow the bushes didn’t seem quite right. None of the little buds I imagined you plucked. Eventually I stopped at the roadside, venturing over to a couple who’d waved as I’d approached. I was curious, intrigued. Cotton.

Cotton buds - web

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Midnight at the oasis

October 8th, 2010

It might have been a dream. Fragments of past memories. Night in a Scottish lay-by. Little sleep in the cramped confines of a Ford Cortina. Industrial scenes. "Bladerunner" perhaps. But this was very real. Gone midnight. Inside the cafe young women shepherded customers, mostly lorry drivers, to tables.

I joined a driver and his mate I’d met earlier in the day. Bowls of hot food – rice, steamed soft dough balls, vegetables, stew – quickly appeared. I was glad of the warmth indoors. Outside, cold as sharp as the harsh lights of the many small workshops on both sides of the road. Lorries parked up in ordered lines. Others trundling past, like shadows amidst all the dust.

Welcome as the food was, I’d still to secure somewhere to spend the night. My hosts sought to reassure me there wasn’t a problem. And yet I’d already established there were no spare beds left in this vast truck stop. I was confused. Our late night meal eventually finished, we returned to the rasping, bitter cold outside. The driver gestured towards his cab. But, I quickly realised, not to retrieve my panniers. Rather, to sleep. In the passenger seat.

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Road to hell

October 7th, 2010

"The reward of suffering is experience" – Aeschylus the Greek

The Gobi proper. A harsh, arid desert. Negligible vegetation, few settlements. Far more remote, hostile places exist. And yet it engenders a strong sense of loneliness. Vulnerability. Its openness, much of it featureless, stretching far out of sight. Appearing to be never-ending. Sapping the resolve of the solo traveller. Exacerbated by the constant wind. Little diminished by the frequent passing of lorries.

The carriageway soon fades. Then a traffic jam. Lorries backed up, for several kilometres at least. A few drivers choose not to wait, passing perilously close to those waiting patiently, presumably hopeful of no sudden oncoming traffic. The few cars on the road share my vulnerability in the chaos. Combined effect of roadworks ahead and the only fuel stop for miles. Beyond it, the last vestiges of tarmac disappear. Rough, unmade road, potholed, dusty. For sixty miles. The road to hell.

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Raking it in

October 6th, 2010

Some people are fortunate enough to grow up knowing exactly what they want to do in life. Others are less lucky. They know what they’ll be doing. I’d found a group of workers for whom I was fairly sure it wasn’t a vocation they’d ever wanted to aspire to. Working conditions were unenviable. Intense heat in the summer, not even a modicum of shade. Bitter cold in the winter. Sandstorms. Gale force winds. No shelter.

Their job? Raking gravel. In the Gobi desert. Plenty of scope I suppose. There’s a lot of it. And a lot of them. Strictly speaking, they confine themselves to the roadsides, the embankments. Which still leaves quite a bit. And a great job they do. Neat borders, as pristine as the carriageway they run alongside.

You might imagine they’d be an unmotivated lot. But no. Quite the reverse. Save for their punctual lunch breaks, never saw them slack, no matter how ferocious the wind or intense the heat. Perhaps just grateful for the opportunity to work. And, almost without exception, women. I’d no aspirations to follow them, but theirs was an admirable work ethic.

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A year on… air

October 5th, 2010

Courtesy of friends at my local community radio station in Somerset, England – www.10radio.org – you can catch up with my regular monthly on air chats with the Saturday Morning WakeUp team.

In this latest episode Ken talks to his good friend and neighbour, Jon, about his first year on the road, and the challenges of China’s Gobi desert. Just click on the link below to hear the latest instalment.

Download Radio Interview MP3

[If you enjoyed listening to this broadcast, or any of their other programmes – you can listen online – please do consider making a donation]

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