Baoji to Dangfeng

After I had finished writing my last entry, I locked my bike, and caught a taxi to Xian to try my hand with the authorities there to extend my visa. The hostel I found, very near the south gate was the cheapest (Y 25), and the best hostel I have found anywhere in the world. It was housed in a very old building and took the feel of an old Oxford college, with a lively bar and restaurant downstairs.

That evening I met Charles, Jamie and Susie for a drink in a bar, but they were already utterly sozzled, so the evening didn't go on very long. This was probably a good thing considering the marathon day awaiting me. Susie managed to backward somersault into the table behind her while showing off her stylish new red high heels. Glass and wood went flying, but the Chinese neighbours were very placid.

Upon finding the right place to renew the visa, which took considerable time as the office had changed locations, I was told that, "According to regulations, your visa cannot be renewed a second time. You must leave the country. You can go to Hong Kong to buy a new one."

This wasn't good news with a visa expiring the following day, so I hared back to Baoji to take up their kind offer of a visa in 7 days. This was granted, 35 minutes before the close of play after I managed to persuade them, with no material proof whatsoever other than a credit card, that I have at least US$ 3000 at my disposal. I had to come up with some pretty cringe-worthy chat about the fact that "I am a man of considerable means" (ahem) and "I am a Chartered Accountant, don't you know?!" In the end, the clincher was the moment I punched some figures into a calculator and said "That's how much money I have!" The auditors among you will rest assured that analytical review skills can come in handy for visa extensions! I would sadly have to return to Baoji the following Thursday to collect my passport and the shiny-new visa occupying an entire page.

The ride between Baoji and Xian was glorious. There was a slight following wind, blue skies, and plenty of little villages to pass through and observe. There were many stone masons at work by the side of the road, carving beautifully-formed Chinese characters with pick-axes and chain-saws onto what looked like marble grave stones. The only thing that slightly deflated me was the constant stream of "HEEEELOOOOOO!" shouted from distant strangers on the street. I had concluded to answer back with "Konichiwa!" but I hesitate to drop that bomb for fear of causing injury to innocent bystanders.

I stopped for a sugar cane snack- the first time I have seen this. It is remarkably refreshing and satisfying even if it does create a huge mess of the pulp that has to be spat out. This makes one fit in with the locals! I also had a barbecue pork sandwich for the first time, from a very hospitable lady in the street. In the little town I stayed in that evening, I found a very lively outside, but covered market of food stalls selling all sorts of things, but mainly beef kebabs, grilled fish, and pots of rice noodles with quails eggs and chicken. As I was perusing, and taking photos, I was approaced by Billy, a pretty Chinese girl who spoke perfect English due to having worked as a "dealer" in Singapore. As I enquired the subject of her dealings, she informed me that she dealt cards. I rather put my foot in it by asking if the little girl with her was her daughter when in fact it was her sister, but she was still keen to help me find the best place to eat, and she stationed me at a stand selling a very spicy but very nice rice noodle dish cooked in a clay pot. She told me that she was astounded to see me in the town, because "foreigners don't come here!" I found this especially pleasing, and is a very good reason to explore a country in the manner I have chosen.

The arrival at the West Gate of Xian was significant, as this is the end of the Silk Road, which I have now cycled in its entirety, originating in Istanbul. I took a quick arm-length shot of myself at this victorious moment, and my bike marked it by yielding a flat front tyre. The last thing I wanted was to change the inner tube in the amphitheatre of a 3 million inhabitant Chinese city, so I pumped it up and continued. I had to perform this three times to get to the oasis of peace that is the hostel. In the process I was unduly rude (I entirely ignored them with a frown) to a load of old gaffers who no doubt thought that a lawai (foreigner) pumping up his tyres was the most interesting thing to happen in the streets of Xian since the forming of the People's Republic.

At the hostel I met up with Noel, a jolly American chap I had met in Kyrgyzstan with whom I had hoped to travel on to Hong Kong. He has however been given a deadline by his girlfriend, and has had to revise his travel plans, and is going to finish in Shanghai. For the first few days we are heading in the same direction, so we will cycle together for at least a bit.

I really enjoyed a few days' enforced rest in Xian due to the need to return to Baoji on the Thursday. Apart from the first day, the weather was too awful to spend hours exploring the streets, but it was a very pleasant place to be, and the hostel was a wonderful base to spend hours chatting to other tourists, and the pretty English-speaking receptionists (this was particularly fruitful as it yielded a discount!)

Xian is full of quintessentially Chinese buildings with enormous rooves, which include the city walls and gates, bell tower, and lots of pagodas and temples. It is also home to the first McDonalds I have seen since Baku (Azerbaijan), many high rise buildings, and a disturbing amount of pollution. Some days you can't properly see the buildings, and the power of the sun is hugely reduced.

We made it out in the driving rain to pay homage at the Terracotta Army, very much worth the effort. I hadn't realised that the rooves to the ditches in which the army had been placed had collapsed over the millennia, in effect crushing the whole army to smithereens (ignorant me), and that the excavation work is still very much ongoing; you can see the archaeologists at work. The many warriors and soilders who have been immaculately pieced together are however collectively and individually an incredible sight. It is like looking back through time at individual people, life size, who walked the earth before the time of Jesus, complete in their true raiment. Fascinating.

On Wednesday evening, the town was completely covered with a thick icing of snow. This produced a pleasant effect on the large sloping chinese rooves and dragon follies, but it also meant that my train to Baoji the following day waited on the platform for an entire hour. The effect of this was that I missed my return train, and arrived back 4 hours later than planned after a 2.5 hour standing-only leg. When I turned up at the police to collect the visa, it took nearly an hour for them to hand back my passport. They had clearly not started the visa process until I had returned to their offices; I wish they could have saved me so much wasted time and given it to me when I first went there!

Returning to the hostel that evening, I found Chris and Astrid, the British and Dutch couple I had met in Kashgar. It was great to see them again, and we all went out for supper. They had had a horrible time in Xinjiang, being followed by the police to such an extent that the police even booked themselves into the hotel room next door! I am glad my passage through Xinjiang was so comparitively hassle-free! They are also going to Hong Kong, so I will next see them for cocktails in the warmth!

I have been cycling with Noel for the last few days since Xian. It has been great to have someone to joke around with; we have a similar sense of humour. The weather has been bitterly cold (0 degrees C) to the extent that fingers and toes turn to ice blocks in the freezing wind. We have not cycled long days due to the lie of the towns. Yesterday we cycled up a 1000m+ pass which was very pretty in the mist, and we hadn't anticipated it. We had a nice noodle lunch where we met another pair of cyclists who had cycled from France and were en route to Shanghai at ultrasonic pace- their visas were running out! The doors to the restaurant were left open despite the freezing conditions and the full house chatted away from under their heavy coats. The chef was hand pulling the noodles. This is done all over China, and I don't know why we never see this back home.

Today we had a very early stop. We were both in considerable cold-enduced pain from the snow. I put on three layers of socks and also put socks over my gloves in an attempt to beat the wind chill on my fingers, but after 50km we decided to dust off the caking of snow, and call it a day at noon in a little town called Dongfeng where we have found a nice little hotel. Our clothes are hanging up, we have defrosted under a warm shower; we spent the afternoon devouring sweet and sour pork and watching a film on Noel's laptop. I have discovered an ingenious way to heat up walnut milk (ubiquitous, although choclate milk is very hard to find) in the kettle by dipping the plastic sachets in the boiling water. A soupcon of brandy would greatly improve it, but me must make do.

I am still having a superb time slowly feeling my way through China, and I am really looking forward to the weather warming up a little as I head further south. I have finally booked a flight on Air New Zealand to arrive home on Christmas Eve, hopefully in time for a pint of Hooky at the King's Head. It's time to venture out for another tickle of the tastebuds, which takes priority so I must close.