Across Continents

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On the menu

December 18th, 2010

Menu 2 - web

Don’t get me wrong. I’m always grateful for a menu in English. Very. But some of the translations do bring a wry smile to the face. Surprising what three Yuan – about thirty pence – will buy….

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Coffee and the Colonel

December 17th, 2010

Coffee and the Colonel from Ken Roberts on Vimeo.

Another Chinese city… Please note that, because direct access to video host Vimeo isn’t possible in mainland China, these clips are a bit out of sync from the other posts. Don’t want to cause yet more confusion…!

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Surreal worlds..

December 17th, 2010

A practical consequence of the often great disparity between rural and urban China is that you can find yourself sleeping in a truck stop, a simple bed and a communal pit toilet. The next night in a small hotel. Standards vary a bit. But unarguably very different worlds. The constant flipping between the two, at times, almost surreal.

Snow fields - web

And so it was tonight. Admittedly not a truck stop the previous night. But a room far more basic than the one I was now in. Struggling to stay warm. Not now. Even a computer. Ken Bruce live on the Radio 2 iPlayer. The odd Christmas track.

Washing - web

Earlier, on the road, the dry cold I’d hoped for. Past slowly thawing rice fields. A woman hand washing clothes outside. A smattering of snow around her.

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Signs of rice?

December 16th, 2010

Signs of rice from Ken Roberts on Vimeo.

Ken thinks he may have found a rice field… Tomorrow night, another city, coffee and the Colonel..

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Snow progress

December 16th, 2010

Winsnow - web

Next morning. First light. View from the window. Snow. But at least not the insipid, icy rain of the previous day. Perhaps the dry cold I’d hoped for. I’d know shortly. Soon be stepping outside. Be back on the road in an hour or so. Kit for the most part dry. Onwards towards Hong Kong.

Morale had recovered from yesterday’s dip. And the intermittent heater had, miraculously, managed to stay on all night. Dreading to think what the room would have been like had it stopped once again. I’d still slept in my fleece. Comfortable. Just.

But I was still a little vexed as to how I’d actually cross into Hong Kong. Ferry. Train. Or bus. Probably in that order of preference. Riding through the various border posts not permitted. Plenty of advice from various people. Much of it conflicting. Or at least lacking the certainty I was seeking. The bordering city of Shenzhen home to millions. Wandering around, trying your luck, and you’d be there for a week.

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Right of passage

December 15th, 2010

Right of passage from Ken Roberts on Vimeo.

If you can fathom out the Highway Code from this, do let me know. Tomorrow night, Ken thinks he may have found a rice field…

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Bitter winds and driving rain

December 15th, 2010

Tough day. I’d been woken the previous night by rain lashing the window. No abatement the next morning. Icy. Torrential. Struggling to read the road signs through my glasses. Missing a crucial turn. Gradual deterioration of the road surface the only clue I’d veered off the National Road I’d meant to follow. Soon gingerly picking a path through the potholes. My mistake slowly becoming apparent.

Eventually retracing my steps. Imagining myself to be back in the lanes around my small Somerset village. Sharing a similar red loam. Dusty in the summer. Rivulets of red mud in winter. Clinging to everything. Caking my car at home. Now coating the panniers, my boots, every exposed surface.

Back on track. But time had been lost. Progress slowed by the torrential rain. Cautious not to inadvertently strike a pothole. Puncture a tyre. Or worse. Buckle a wheel. The day’s mileage now looking overly optimistic. Finishing in the dark to be avoided at all cost. Far too dangerous. Frustrating. For Hong Kong – Chiang Kang – beckoned. As did Christmas. And the end of my second continent.

Problems were compounded by my mis-judgement of the conditions before I’d set off. Choosing not to don waterproof trousers. Or dig out my winter gloves. Imagining I’d be amply warm once underway. Finding instead water running down my leggings into my boots. Feet soon numb. As were my hands. Realising my mistake too late. Only morale was ebbing. Not the rain.

Inevitably I stopped short. Just forty miles covered. But to continue on, three or so hours of daylight remaining, would have been foolhardy. My intended stop out of reach. Best to dry out and start fresh in the morning. And so I spent the afternoon drying out my kit. Helped by a heater that would work for half an hour. Then inexplicably stop. Washed the red loam, the fine, penetrating grit, off the panniers. And Emma.

Wandering outside later into the bitterly cold night to take a GPS fix to work out exactly where I was. In my sandals. My boots still damp. Hail crunching underfoot. Hoping for an improvement in the weather next day. Or at least dry cold. But not optimistic.

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Provincial night life

December 14th, 2010

Provincial night life from Ken Roberts on Vimeo.

Evening scenes in a typical eastern Chinese provincial town.

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Around town – part two

December 13th, 2010

 

Provincial street scene – part two from Ken Roberts on Vimeo.

More scenes in a typical eastern Chinese provincial town. Tomorrow evening a glimpse of the night life…

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Scones, sandwiches and degrees of separation

December 13th, 2010

South of the Nanchang’s centre the marshals faded away and the bicycles drifted back onto the highway. Chaos resumed. Order restored. Soon reaching what I thought to be Fengcheng, my intended night’s stop. Far earlier than anticipated. A few hours of daylight remaining. Opportunity to gain a few more miles south. To the provincial town of Zhangshu.

Except everyone I spoke to, showed the map to, assured me I was there already. Confusing. People’s concept of distance unreliable beyond their immediate neighbourhood. But you’d think they knew where they lived. Eight different passers-by. Luckiest of numbers in China. Open questions. Same result.

Amidst the confusion, certainty. Of sorts. Between the towns about a quarter of a degree of longitude. Doesn’t sound much but it equates to about twenty miles. Placed my trust in my GPS receiver. Knew where I was on my map with sufficient accuracy to assure myself this definitely wasn’t Zhangshu. Onwards then. Besides, I was buoyed up. Fresh sandwiches. Proper ones. Tuna. And fruit scones. Little shop in Nanchang.

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