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October 23rd: Huangpo 黄坡 to Zhanjiang 湛江 - 24.17 miles

Day 10

It appears that our trend is reversing. What was once rural is now urban. We took a detour on S081 (which appeared to be S373 on Google map) from our trusty G325 to get away from the crowds.

The new S081 seems to be the renovated S373. Rewarded with a broad and smooth shoulder and less traffic we were quite proud of ourselves until arriving at an enormous bridge which only warned us that bicycles were not allowed at the entrance. The thought of backtracking was uninspiring under the searing sun. Upon a careful examination of our not so trust worthy Google map, there appeared to be a little road along the shoreline leading to a ferry pier 1 mile away at the end of old S373. We decided to give Google maps a chance to redeem itself. Following a road leading south of the bridge we passed a stadium complex under construction. Our road soon turned into overgrown sidewalk no more than 2 meters wide, which we expected to dwindle away at any moment. Surprisingly this tiny little path delivered us, as promised, to a ferry.

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We disembarked right into the heart of Zhanjiang, a rather large, modern city with all the traffic of those that live there. I was a little disheartened that we were to enter another series of major urban areas after feeling relieved that we had just escaped them. Looking at Google maps it seemed that this was the case. Luckily as were fleeing the city, we found lodging at the outskirts of town and happily called it a day at 2pm.

October 22nd: Dianbai 电白 to Huangpo 黄坡 – 31.53 miles

Day 9

Finding ourselves on a bustling highway with no shoulders and nowhere to retreat, we pounded the pedals and by 1pm had already gone 30 miles. We stopped in the nearest town, Huangpo, which reminded both of us of a little Hanoi. Every type of industry was being conducted there. Stores specializing in welding, gates, hardware, solar water heating and storage, live chickens and doves and intricately woven baskets for carrying all manner of fowl. Not to mention the ubiquitous vegetable stalls, and a street dedicated to pickled garlic selling. Cher later pointed out that a “white dove con-gee” is a specialty of the village. Through and around this buzzed an exceptional amount of scooters, motorcycles and people. It was a surprising sight coming off a highway with little more than fields surrounding us to be dropped into such a busy town.

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We once again attempted to gain access to the internet, but we were denied because we don’t have a Mainland Chinese ID card. The internet access is regulated by a censoring device which works with only the newest Chinese identity cards. The regulation aims to prevent under-aged teens using the internet cafes, as they are believed to be the culprits of a decrease in productivity. Never did the law-makers nor us expect this to be a problem for foreign travelers as evidenced by the amount of locals taking my picture while we were strolling around town.

We have pass through such a variety of towns everyday and we are able to get a better feel for them as we go. One thing I’ve noticed is the receptivity or openness of many of the faces we encounter. Since I understand nothing of what is said to me, I spend a lot of time reading faces and body language. One thing immediately noticeable in this town was the amount stares without the normal friendly curiosity. Many people stared from far off and when we looked directly at them fled. As my cheery self, I tried to greet people who stared at me but none returned my smile and hellos. We are often followed by people smirking or waving, but once we got in this town, I noticed someone in my mirror following at a distance even as we made a circuitous route looking for a suitable hotel. There were also numerous groups of teens just hanging about, and it was 1pm on a Monday. Despite the numerous businesses here, the population is still greater than the demand of the job market.

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October 21st: Rest Day in Dianbai 电白

Day 8
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Where is Cher?

Finally our first rest day and as Cher pointed out even office workers get 2 days off per week. We only peddled a half-day and what we are doing can hardly be called work, a rest day is always welcomed. After spending the better part of the day typing up our last 7 days we located an “internet cafe,” in what looked like an abandoned industrial building. Following a set of trash-riddled steps along a concrete corridor, we found the owners sitting behind a counter in complete darkness. We soon found out the power just went out in this half of the neighborhood a few minutes ago. We had to wait another day to upload our adventures. I spent the second half of the day maintaining the trikes. Using the Chinese version of WD-40 I degreased and lubed the chains. Our drive train should last at least 8,000 miles, maybe more depending on how often we keep the grit from sanding down the parts. After 7 incredibly dusty days and starting from a state of extreme cleanliness, everything was black and caked. I’ve found that using a synthetic wet lubricant is the best, even though they have the tendency to attract dirt. The dry lubricants wear out too quickly and don’t dispel water quite as well. Focusing on Cher’s trike I found her rear derailleur was sticking and after disassembling the cable and housing I discovered her cable completely rusted. Oh sweet preparation! thankfully I brought a spare and without incident was able to disassemble her twist grip and replace the cable, after clearing her cable housing of rust with the degreaser and lubing it. I’m guessing that due to the vertical position of the twist grip and the small hole for the cable end at the base of the grip, that during our numerous rain storms in Taiwan that water was able to drip through the hole and was funneled into the cable housing. A small piece of duct tape over the hole fixes this. We have finally adjusted to the travelling pace. We can peddle all day without having to stop repeatedly to tighten this or adjust that, which we did 4 to 5 times a day during our first 5 days. With this in mind I’ve gone over the trikes testing every single nut and bolt to ensure they are tight. Our bodies are also running well and haven’t had any aches or pains worth mentioning. Trikes truly are comfort machines and we feel that we have chosen wisely, despite the constant curiosity they draw.

Not much of a rest day since we spent the entire day from 6am till 9pm working. However, this has been our normal schedule. We usually stir at 6 am and we are in bed by 8pm. Having had plenty of exercise everyday, our sleep is usually sound. That with our home-cooked healthy meals, and a budget which doesn’t leave room for nights out drinking and partying, this is going to be a healthy life-style.

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October 20th: Lingmenzhen 岭门镇 to Dianbai 电白 – 30.48 miles

Day 7

Woke up fully rested at 5am and started packing before the rooster’s crow. We were eager to get back on the road without the hassle of cooking breakfast and packing in front of a crowd of spectators. It is nerve wracking to have a crowd watching your every move. No wonder the pandas don’t breed in the zoo. After packing in the dark we were ready to go by 6am and after thanking our host we departed. We stopped near a construction site behind a sand dune and cooked our oatmeal breakfast. Despite our efforts in going stealth, we still received a curious visitor as we were about to eat. Cher politely answered the normal questions: no it’s not electric powered, you have to pedal; yes it has 3 wheels; we are from Hong Kong and going to Vietnam. However, she drew a line at the question “what are you eating?” We had decided that on the subject of curiosity, we could not possibly satisfy everyone, so we would have to make some boundaries. First we won’t discuss how much our things cost. Second we have a no touch rule. This is a grey area but curiosity at one point turns into harrassment.

Twice today we’ve put our boundaries into practice. I snapped my fingers and gave a dissaproving look at 2 separate people, one turning the steering, the other turning the pedals. Afterwards they looked from afar or at least respectfully and even warned others not to touch after they turned up. It’s working and now we can eat in peace without having to worry about someone poking into our bags.

We had dreams of camping on a beach and followed a sign that promised “Romantic Coast” which is 16km away on a detour. Oh la la! It might be a rest day! As we peddled down the road, we soon found out that the coast is owned by a company, fenced in, and guarded by men in camo uniforms. The “Romantic Coast” costs 50 RMB per person to enter and they don’t want anyone stealing it. We dismissed it and moved on enduring the searing afternoon sun. Wanting to get some rest for our legs, we decided to have a rest day. After arriving n Dianbai, a blooming town outside of Maoming, we found a cheap hotel close to a market, grocery shop and an internet cafe and settled in for some blogging, sink laundry, air conditioning, spam and egg cooking, and trike maintenance. And of course, 2 delicious, cold, wheat beers to celebrate the successful completion of our first week of slow travel.

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Gourmet chef in his natural environment

October 19th: Heishigu 黑石牯 to Lingmenzhen 岭门镇 – 39.72 miles

Day 6

With little sleep we had a long hot day. 34-35 degrees all day. We were hoping to reach Maoming, and thought that we were near after Cher read a sign that said, “Welcome to Maoming, Enjoy Our Safety Avenue.” As the sun was quickly going down, we hoped to find a hotel in town to catch up with the lost sleep, and Cher had already began fantasizing about a hot shower. However, after asking how far Maoming was, Cher learned it was still 70 kms away. Which means, we wouldn’t be able to enjoy their long “safety avenue” for another 2 days. Cher was very dissapointed to learn we would have to stay next to a noisy road and mosquito filled rice fields. I was equally dissapointed but didn’t let on in my attempt at manliness, and my cheery resolve only made Cher more annoyed.

After checking that we couldn’t be seen from the road, we decided to cook first and set up camp just after sunset. A passing farmer stopped and told Cher it wasn’t a good place to stay, assuring us that it was not dangerous, but just too many mosquitoes and too “wild”. He invited us to stay in the village. At first we declined but after some discussion we took him up on the invite. He patiently waited for us to collect our scattered cooking gear, and walked us to the village as he carried a large tree limb on his shoulder. He struck me as the ideal image of a farmer, polite, sturdy, with a straw hat, sandals, and a constant smile of amusement revealing white teeth.

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As I watched Cher cycling next to him I was struck by the contrast. I realized how odd we must appear to everyone we passed and felt a twinge of shame for my frustration with their curiosity. Our trikes, and everything we own contain more modern technology than he was likely to come in contact with in a lifetime. We were from the future. True he wasn’t by any means living in the past and he owned modern luxuries such as a water heater, a washing machine and a mobile phone, but nonetheless the contrast was extreme. We are sanitizing water with a UV light pen and have a stove that fits in your pocket. Our 3-person tent is waterproof and can be set up in 2 minutes. In many ways even though we chose not to carry many modern conveniences, our way of life has arleady been branded by the modern world we live in.

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We set up our tents in front of his house and soon the entire village had gathered and were curiously observing our tents and deciphering the mechanics of our trikes with their hands held respectfully behind their backs. Many were amazed by the mesh screen of our tent, which was not surprising since they go without screens in their windows. It was an event. Each of us took turns entertaining the crowd while the other took a hot shower in the house. It was a small price to pay for such hospitality. Cher answered questions such as “don’t you have anything else to do other than travelling?” as wandering around is considered a lack of ambition by the standards of industrious Chinese rural culture. I posed and hammed it up giving peace signs with the teenagers while they snapped shots with their mobiles. I asked if anyone had e-mail, and was given a physical address to mail pictures. This little adventure was a much needed reminder of the goodness of people after a few frustrating days.

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October 18th: Yangjiang 阳江 to Heishigu 黑石牯 – 17 miles

Day 5

More city and highway insanity today, as the provincial road S356 turned into national road N325. Surprisingly, this toll road allows motorcycles, bicycles (and other human powered vehicles such as tricycles) and pedestrians. Hence, we had women with babies walking into traffic, motorcycles going against traffic in the bicycle lane and scooters jockeying for position at traffic lights. Unfortunately we chose the most direct route in order to get to our climbing destinations in the right season. However, the most direct also has the most traffic. We’ll have to choose more rural routes in the future. Not sure if the dust and chaos are worth the 2 or 3 weeks it would save.

We’ve stopped responding to the multiple hellos, hi’s and stares. As much as I would naively like to spread good will, it’s just too much and too dangerous. A trick I soon learned is that when people are tailing us dangerously close, once I wave them on, they will pass by and stop endangering us with their curiosity.

Cher found a little dirt trail along S356 and at 100 yards in there was a secluded flat spot with very few signs of human traffic except some livestock hoof prints. Plus there was a clean stream running down the hillside, this was a perfect spot to camp. To access the spot we had to push our trikes up a rugged, steep, wet hill. Cher insisted on riding and toppled over into a ditch with her trike on top of her. Pinned down in a wet ditch with her feet over her head I rushed over to free her and thankfully she found the incident more entertaining than horrifying.

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After setting up our tent we saw a woman harvesting wild plants with a wicker basket, possibly for livestock. She didn’t even raise her eyes as she passed our camp site. Which as Cher pointed out was for the best. If she wanted to chat we might have ended up with an entire village of curious onlookers or a few stealthy plunderers. So whether she feared us or was shy, it was good that she didn’t take any notice of our wild camp. After a great shower in the clear stream, we settled in clean and fed as the temperature began to drop for perfect sleeping conditions.

After only 2 hours of sleep, I was awoken by hives everywhere tender. After many break-outs, I could only find relief by kneeling and propping my torso up with my head. Cher tended my itchy bumps but it wasn’t long before they spread and I was smearing the rest of the tube of anti-itch ointment all over myself for the next 8 hours. I slept only two hours and with my constant movement Cher got only slightly more. Looking forward to a nice cold shower soon.

October 17: Yekeng 叶坑 to Yangjiang 阳江 – 31 miles

Day 4

We peddled a beautiful stretch today. A well shaded road, lined with trees and beyond them verdant green rice fields. There was actual grass instead of heaps of garbage along the shoulder. We had to stop several times for maintenance and adjustments. Bumpy roads and loads on the trikes shook the bolts loose and rattled anything not fully secured. While we stopped, we were visited by a slender old man, probably in his 70’s riding an equally old bicycle. Although there wasn’t a speck of paint on the bike, it was well oiled and maintained. The old man was nice enough to agree to pose for pictures and demonstrate his riding. After telling him that we came from Hong Kong, he told us it was as good as himself going to Hong Kong as his pictures will travel back to Hong Kong with us.

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Shortly after leaving this peaceful clean road, we entered a town uncharacteristically strewn with garbage and grim faces. Despite thinking this was a bad place to stop, we stopped to get groceries. As usual, Cher went into the store and I waited outside to guard the trikes. As usual, a crowd gathered, but this crowd was not polite. Their curiosity was forceful and intrusive and there weren’t any smiles. An older man with alcohol on his breath began poking our bags and I waved him off, yet he did it again. I made clear signs that I didn’t want him touching our things, then a 3rd time he tried to pull back the top of a bag, and I foolishly reached over and opened his mobile phone holder on his hip trying to teach him a lesson. I could have escalated the situation and had an angry mob or a fist fight instead of an annoying old man as Cher pointed out. Cher came out just in time to make our quick escape through the crowd, which only reluctantly gave way to avoid being bumped into. We both promised to trust our instincts and to avoid stopping in any sinister looking areas, and I had to promise to keep my cool.

After several more dusty, dirty roadside towns we started down a stretch of highway without a shoulder and had to pull off into the gravel and garbage to avoid tractor trailers with no room to go around us. Tired and dusty we entered Yangjiang at around 4pm and stopped at a hotel. Cher asked for a room at a cheap motel and just as we brought the trikes in, we were refused because they didn’t have a scanner for foreign id’s. We were directed to a hotel twice as expensive that had a scanner, but we found out that the hotel couldn’t accept foreigners because their scanner stopped working. As we were pulling out, Cher asked another staff member who just came out to take our pictures if we can stay, she guaranteed to take us if we had our marriage certificate or if we took 2 rooms. After some pressing by Cher and asserting that she would call the police herself, the scanner magically worked and we were able to get a room. I’ve learned that the scanning of IDs is a way to ensure surveillance of foreign visitors. The regulation is more strictly enforced in large cities, and some small cities.

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We had a place that we could have camped earlier in the day at just 25 miles but decided to press on. When we reached Yangjiang it was too late to risk getting caught on a dangerous highway as it was getting dark. As a result, we were forced to stay in an expensive hotel in Yangjiang. We have to remember that we aren’t in a rush and to take the opportunity to stop when it presents itself.

October 16th: Guanghaizhen 广海镇 to a dam near Yekeng 叶坑 – 37.55 miles

Day 3

I slept horribly. Guanghaizhen had a stressed feeling. There were very few smiling faces, however there were plenty of idle young men hanging about, just waiting for any stimulus. There was banging and shouting all night long inside the hotel, and then at 2 am the hammering started. It has the distinct sound of metal on metal and it was vibrating the walls. I thought someone was trying to break our locks on the trikes we stored on the first floor so I ran downstairs to check and everything was ok. If I hope to get any sleep I’ll start storing them in the room.

We started at 8am and it was mercifully cool today. The further we progressed, the more rural it became. We are finally beginning to feel as if we are breaking away from the gravity of big cities. Now instead of cars and trucks, we have begun to see tractors and bicycles. Buildings and exhaust fumes have given way to fields, trees and cool breezes. S365 is serene. A wide shoulder and very little traffic. However, we were still harassed by curious drivers.

A car stopped in front of us blocking the shoulder and part of the road, expecting us to pass so he could get a good look at us. For safety concerns, we decided to wait behind it instead of riding into the oncoming traffic. A second later a pickup truck going the opposite way began to swerve wildly across both lanes before gaining control. Our first thought was that it was a flat. We then realized the pickup truck hit a dog curious about the car on the other side of the road. We are quite strange, but I hope their curiosity isn’t terminal for either of us.

We got to take another ferry today. Cher found out that we might have to wait for at least an hour for high tide to come so the ferry could dock. However, as soon as the ferry came in, a young passenger hurriedly waved us on and with just the three of us, the ferry departed without any delay. We soon found out that the young man was on his way to see his seriously ill father in the next town, and had paid 200 RMB for the immediate departure. He was kind enough to let us share the ferry ride.

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As we had decided to cook our meals, we stopped at a little town to buy groceries. I waited outside to guard the trikes, while Cher went in. In 2 minutes I was surrounded by 20 people, blocking the street and crowding the market entrance. Cher heard a worker in the store yelling to her friend, “Come quick, there’s a foreigner outside.” Not sure how to respond I gave them the wide foreigner smile and decided to take a video so I could be a voyeur of the voyeurs. Unsettled by the camera some began to disperse. One young man encouraged by the camera wanted photos with me and a photo in the trike. Since I was holding his brand new I-phone 5 I let him take a seat. I-phones are definitely more common than foreigners.

We decided to camp tonight. We searched around some villages and were chased out by 3 dogs doing their job. Later we found our perfect spot – a dam overlooking rice fields and small villages on one side, and a lake on the other. Cher had the opportunity to practice her small chat skills, since we needed to ask for permission from the dam care takers to camp on there. As we were settling down for the night, a duck hunter came with a gun as long as the man was tall. The hunter wore an electronic duck caller clipped to his waste that called out a randomly generated series of quacks, a social quack then an annoyed quack and finally an encouraging quack. Squatting five feet from where we sat, he settled in and waited. As night fell a duck flew overhead and he took a shot. His gun, a flint lock, popular during the 1800’s went off with a shower of sparks. The curious duck was lucky as the hunter missed, but the duck was dumb enough to come back again against the warning of the gun shot. Lucky for the bird, the hunter’s gun took a long time to reload. The hunting went on until at least midnight.

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The Duck Hunter

October 15th: Doumenzhen 斗门镇 to Guanghaizhen 广海镇 – 41.6 miles

Day 2

Hot today, felt like the road was melting us. It was at least 33 degrees, not including the heat reflected by the road. We each drank about 4 liters of water, and regardless of hats and thick layers of sunscreen lotion we still managed to get burned.

The plan was to travel on S365 to avoid the highway – S32. Following the directions from Google map, we somehow found ourselves traveling on S32 without a sight of S365, which is supposed to run parallel to the highway S32. At one point, we had to turn back when we reached a toll gate for a bridge crossing, which made itself clear that human powered vehicles are not allowed. This was a bad news, if we couldn’t take the bridge, we would have to take a lengthy detour. But thanks to Cher’s Chinese skills, we found a ferry which would take us across the river in a town not too far away. A little ferry that could hold about 8 motorcycles pulled up and rammed a ramp into the concrete peer, keeping it there by thrusting the engine. We were able to back our trikes onto the ferry, just as other motorcycles did. It was wonderful to be on a ferry, reclined in our lounge chairs, resting assured that we were heading the right direction without any hassle, for just 20 RMB.

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Everything went more smoothly than we could ever imagined, except that fact that we were attracting too many curious motorists. They flew by and looked over their shoulders, slowed down, drove parallel to us and took their time to inspect us without any concerns of their safety or ours, until they nearly veered off the road. Curiosity was not limited to motorists. Fixing my trike outside our hotel I was soon surrounded by a crowd, none of them spoke English yet wanting to communicate. One man forced a pad of paper in my hand with a money sign on it, asking how much our trikes cost. It was probably the one hundred and first time that the question was asked over the past 1 and a half days. I signed zero. I later learned that he had already asked Cher and she had told him the same. I suggested we just make up a lie, but Cher following her rigorous ethical philosophy, didn’t agree. We will see what will happed as Cher is becoming more and more fed up with the same question. We couldn’t figure out why placing a price tag on our trikes was so important to these strangers we came across. Cher had a theory that our trikes are so alien yet so similar to their motorcycles or bicycles, placing a price tag would be a good reference point for them to relate.

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Curious crowd

As of our mileage, we need to slow down or else we will get to Vietnam before our visas become valid. We also need to start camping as we stayed in hotels for 2 consecutive days. We will certainly miss hot showers, especially with the amount of road dust we accumulate on our sweaty bodies.

October 14th: Hong Kong to Doumenzhen 斗门镇 – 14 miles

Day 1

We finally finished packing and clearing out the apartment at 2 am. 4 hours later, we were on a van heading towards China Ferry Terminal for the boat ride to Doumen, the start point of our long journey. After paying only 60 HKD excess baggage fee for our 2 gigantic trikes, we boarded the ferry. Somehow they only x-rayed our luggage upon arrival, so apparently it is ok to carry around metal containers filled with white gas on a boarding-crossing ferry. Having chosen the 2-hour boat ride to Doumen to avoid traveling through the more densely populated cities surrounding Hong Kong, we found that our choice was correct. We assembled our trikes in a relatively empty parking lot outside of the terminal, and were on the road by 1:30pm.

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Escaping the still bustling city of Doumen was a onslaught of heavy traffic over pot holed roads lumpy enough to make our panniers scrape on the ground. Not only were there large ruts but also large black puddles. Motorcycles, buses, trucks and cars were heading in every direction to avoid the holes, water and our trikes. After stopping multiple times to get our bearings we made it just 14 miles before calling it a day. We found a little motel in Doumenzhen. Eating out instead of cooking was the easiest agreement we have reached. However, the guilt of spending more money than necessary took over and we resolved to start cooking as often as possible, as grocery shops are easy to find along the way.

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Start!

We had a dream of riding from our doorstep into the great unknown territories. However, the logistic and reality have crushed the romance. There are 4 border crossings between Hong Kong and Mainland China, however none of them are human-powered-vehicle friendly. Either we have to take a train and haul our trikes as over-size luggage then walk through the customs, or we have to take a bus which is more of a hassle than convenience.

Luckily there are plenty of ferry services between Hong Kong and China. A short ferry ride from China Ferry Terminal in Hong Kong to Doumen, Guangdong saves us from riding through Shenzhen, Guangzhou and Zhongshan, 3 of the most densely populated cities in China, and we are more than happy to have a chaos-free start.

Surprisingly, our first real border crossing – Mong Cai, Vietnam is only 707km away from Doumen. At a very leisurely pace (59km/day), we can get there within 12 days. However, our Vietnam visa is valid from November 1, 2013. That means we will have 5 days of spare time before we can cross the border. Ready for slow travel? We shall see.


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