Mountain Man in a Flat Land

Batang to Dali (via Zhongdian horse races) and home

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Day 31 - Batang to Li Ding (66km, 1335m up, 565m down, 6.5 hours!) 
The bikes are heavy. We now have to carry all our own stuff. This is hard. These were our thoughts as we set off out of Batang, and we quickly added, this is going to be a long hot day as the road works started. The road was a shocker as soon as we left Batang, and only got worse from there. Road works had reduced a rough dirt track into a rocky, dusty nasty road, with regular stream crossings. Not a pleasant day. Much to our disgust, having cycled 2500km with dry feet, we get soaked feet a number of times as we have to walk to bikes thought ankle to shin deep water. 

We stop at the road intersection. The old road follows the river, while the newer one comes up over the top. We opt for the over the top option, as it is a 30km shortcut. A nasty 12km long, 600m climb, and we arrive at no name pass as we nick named it. In the future you will go under the pass as they are digging a tunnel under the mountain, but that will not be for a couple of years yet as they are only 20 feet into the hill at present! 

We drop down and continue our grovel though road works, past workers and with the added bonus of more stream crossings. A surprise guest house is a welcome sight, as camping spots were non existent. Good food and a good nights sleep prepares us to do battle the next day!. 

Day 32 Liding - Haizishan pass camp, 53Ks, 1315 meters up, 445 meters down 5.75 hours!!! 
After the day to Liding, we knew what to expect - and we were dreading it mightily. Over a thousand vertical meters to climb up execrable "roads", fully loaded - yikes! In truth it was almost as bad as we expected, although fortunately it turned out that the pass was only 33 kilometers away (rather than 40, as we'd thought), and averaging 7kph (yep, hard to ride slower and stay upright, believe me I know!) we managed to reach it in about 4 and a half hours cycling. We continued to cross water - nearly knee-deep in places, and no hope of getting through dry - and I started giving the poor road workers a bit of a haranguing (exactly how do you build roads here? Even the Tibetan roads are better than this! When did "river" start to mean "road"? Etc. Hamish was just behind me saying it all in English, so I think they got the point.) The most exhausting were the little up and down popper re-routes they kept putting in - apparently someone would decide it was flat enough to get a truck through, so it must be the road! Unfortunately we felt differently! 

Luckily, there were fewer actual road workers on the way - and so fewer "heeelloooo!!!!!"'s, "I love you's" (always to Hamish, must be the beard?) etc. Nearing the pass top, it started to rain - then to hail - then it pretty much turned into an ice storm. The scenery had been getting better (always does when you go up), and behind us were lovely peaks and silver lakes, but I was too busy trying to keep my bike on the road (and ducking hail stones!) to really notice. Hamish was a little ahead, which was good, because it meant he couldn't hear me venting my frustration on the weather and whichever immortal was responsible for it. 

Pushing on, we finally hit the pass top - and magically, the weather cleared. Blue skies all around, with the wind pushing puffy white clouds down the valley. We took some pictures - and had truck drivers and tourists taking pictures of us (funniest was a pudgy truck driver who came running down the road with his phone. I thought maybe he could get reception on the pass top? But then it turned out it was a camera phone - smiles all round). 

We'd climbed right up onto the plateau, at 4700 meters, and grasslands went as far as the eye could see. After a short drop, yaks and nomads tents started popping up on every hill, and we met another Chinese "cycle tourist". This gent was walking to Lhasa, but had decided his backpack was too heavy, so bought a bike to put it on and was pushing that. What can you say? Further on, we finally stopped for a bit of lunch (after nearly five hours of riding - but the weather had been little too threatening to stop earlier) and lazed in the grass, shoes off, drying out our socks and feet in the sun. Then on down - and miracle of miracles, we hit a sealed road! We could only go another 10K's on that though before the weather packed in and finding a camp spot started looking pretty urgent (a BIG lightning strike and clouds down the valley were enough to convince me!!!). First we chose a gravel pit to get some protection from the wind (the wind had kicked up in a major way, and our 3-season tent can't withstand "high winds", whatever the manufacturers decided that means?) - unfortunately, there was no chance of getting the pegs into the ground, so we moved up above it and slightly behind a dirt hillock that we were hoping would help a little. We got the tent up just in time for a bit of rain, and then when the sky cleared enterprising Hamish set off with the 10-litre dry bag on a water runner (for future reference, these make GREAT water containers!) He located a spring behind us by looking for a spot on the hill where the grass was a bit greener (and where the chewed up earth indicated the yaks came by fairly often) and arrived back, looking (understandably) pleased, with water for the camp! 

Our cooker was working, but only enough for us to be sure we could boil water, so we had instant noodles and leftover mantou for dinner, and of course as many coffees and Tangs as we wanted. We also had visitors - a family of Tibetans from the valley over came by to say hello, and as one spoke Mandarin we had a nice little chat. Very interesting - he started off by saying "you know this is a Tibetan area". A little cautious I said "yes, well most people say it is China" - his reply, "before it was China it was Tibet". This sounds pretty innocent, but it is the strongest statement we have heard anyone make to us in our travels. Anyway, they turned out to be quite nice, and after a little more talk headed home while we cleaned up cooker etc. and settled in for the night. It rained in fits and spurts, but nothing compared to what it had looked like was going on down the valley (lucky for us and our tent!!!) 

Day 33 - Grasslands camp to Litang (73km, 220m, 470m down) 
With great intentions of setting off early, we lie in the tent waiting for the sun to hit it. It is cold, and there is a thick coating of ice on the tent where last nights rain shower has frozen. After the usual camping start to the day of porridge (much to Leah’s disgust) and coffee, we eventually break camp and head off into Litang. 

The scenery is spectacular as the road winds down an open grasslands valley. Rolling low snow capped mountains are on either side of us, and yaks graze the grassy valley floor. We stop regularly to take photos as it is so beautiful. Finally, to work and we start to ride in earnest for Litang - unfortunately, about this time a fierce headwind kicks up AND we discover it's about 10K's further than we'd thought - hard on tired legs with heavy bags. No worries, arriving we have a big feed, then accost a helpless foreigner wandering down the street to ask where he's staying. Turns out he's a cyclist who's been taking the slower way up from Laos - peddling some, but staying a week in most places. Anyway, a great guesthouse that we were happy to have, and the promise of a couple good rest days in Litang preparing for the next scary bit - the ride from here to Zhongdian!


Litang

Here we are in Litang after some rough days of riding. We started carrying our stuff three days ago...what a difference! After a massive climb (fully loaded) up dodgy roads culminating in a 4700 meter pass, we're just happy to be here. From here it looks to stay hard - apparently our chosen route has at least one more 5,000 meter pass, as well as a 4700 meter one and who knows what else, but at least we're starting higher this time (and the roads can't get any worse than they've been!) 

Litang is amazing - the single most Tibetan town we've been in, and we're now officially out of Tibet! Crazy looking men (and women) are everywhere with wild hair, massive hats, crazy sunglasses, etc. Really interesting looking people - but in the main also very nice. The main business at the moment seems to revolve around the "yatso gumpo" season - strange little worms meant to be extremely good for the health that the Tibetans are bringing down from the high hills now. Everywhere you look women are crouched on street corners brushing dirt off these half worm/ half plant looking things, and the "dealers" i.e. the guys buying them, are carrying massive wads of 100Rmb notes everywhere - as each worm fetches approximately 1USD! So a very interesting place, and we're happy to be here preparing for the next bit. Otherwise, we've accomplished a fair bit in the last week - we've managed to rent an apartment, sight unseen (sort of - we've seen pictures) in New Hampshire for when school starts (quite a headache, over the internet from Tibet!), so come July we will in fact have a stateside address - hooray!!! 

So off we go - if you remember, we left you on switchback 16 of Tibet's highest motorable ascent. For the blow by blow, read on below: 

Hamish and Leah 


A quick roundup of Litang - take 2 
We spent an extra day in Litang despite our best intentions, because the town is just really amazing, and gets so few visitors at the moment that it's fun to wander around and chat with people. The monastery is impressive (and hardly discussed in the Lonely Planet - (that is most probably why there are no visitors...H). A great deal has been rebuilt, and another massive complex is just being started, scheduled for completion in three years. The most amazing thing were the people working on this - granddads and grannies and monks, a very grassroots effort. People take obvious pride in it, and we were repeatedly advised to "come back in three years". 

The monks were all very friendly, and curious - we came across a young group during their "break time" and hung out for a half an hour chatting about the usual: where we were from, where we were going, and Yao Ming. Turns out they are all basketball fanatics, and get to play on the hoop outside on Sundays. Everyone was having a great time when the head lama (about 98, leaning on a stick and wearing glasses, but everyone was VERY deferential to him) showed up so after pleasantries it was back to work (distinct feeling we had all been caught playing hookey - but in a nice way.) A couple of the more senior monks followed us outside, and we talked for a bit longer. Turned out none of them were from the area - a trend we've noted elsewhere. Although monks are being allowed to return to study, they don't seem to be able to do so in their own monasteries - possibly because the government feels they'd have too many (dangerous?) ties to the community? Also, none had been there longer than four years, pretty common among the monks we've spoken with. On the other hand, we've seen multiple pictures of the Dalai Lama in monasteries on this side of the "Tibet/ China" line (people are physically searched in Tibet to confiscate these), and everyone seems to breathe a lot easier where religion and race are concerned. 

Other Litang anecdotes - thanks to us, Litang now has its first english menu (no kidding!) One of the little food houses was run by the lovely Mr. Zhen and his wife, and served excellent food. We took a couple groups of backpackers we "acquired" en route there (very happy to have someone order for them, and surprised at the food that resulted - "the best food we've had in China" was the comment by both sets.) So we made Mr. Zhen an English/ Chinese menu - hopefully this will help them, and the backpackers wandering through who are linguistically limited to eggs and tomatoes otherwise!! 

Day 34 - Litang to Ant Camp (62km 885m up, 650m down) 
Leaving Litang after hanging out for a few days was not easy, with good food, good company and a clean bed, facing a few hard days riding to Zhongdian and then onto Lijiang. 

Crossing the grasslands leaving town we could see our first little popper of a hill, a short 250m steep climb up to a small monastery. We called into the monastery on the way past and saw the two performing bears they had tied up. A little sad, but the bears looked happy (though Hamish told me they took a swipe at one of the monks....L-). The monastery was another example of the effort China is going to in the Tibetan areas that are in mainland China. Although small, it was immaculately clean and everything looked new. There were hundreds of butter candles (small candles that burn butter) burning everywhere, making for a pleasant change from the cool air outside. The only pity was that there was only a handful of monks studying here. Maybe one day that will change as the monastery could definitely take more. 

Onward and down we shivered as we dropped to our low point for the day, 500m lower at 3700m, then started to climb once again. What goes down must come up that's for sure, as we started yet another steep climb out of a grassy valley to yet another pass. From a nice sunny hot valley floor we climbed up into the boulder strewn valley and the weather cooled (steep as h$%&!! Steeper than the later switchbacks, and a pig of a climb..L-). The clouds came in and as the rain started to fall we started to look for tonight's camp spot. Spotting a good looking pine tree to shelter the tent, we settled into camp, only to find out the valley is full of big nasty ants, hence the camp was nicknamed "Ant Camp". A lazy afternoon was spent hanging out in the tent thinking about tomorrows ride up the rest of the pass, then 20km above 4500m. Typical of the weather lately, the sun came out and we hopped between rocks avoiding the nasty ants sitting in the sun. (Minor scare: the cooker refused to light, and Hamish tore the thing apart down to the pump - he managed to fix it, earning my gratitude for eternity, and put it back together - yeah, hot dinner! L-) (Damn PRIMUS stove!! H-) 

Day 35 - Ant Camp to Sangdui: 765 meters up, 970 meters down, 66 K's 
One thing we are learning about China - passes always come in pairs. Can't get enough of a good thing, apparently. 

Knowing that we had a pair of 4700 - 4800 meter passes waiting for us 13 and 23 kilometers up the road, we packed up camp sharpish after the usual porridge and Tang brekkie. The cooker continued to leak petrol, but behaved well enough to boil water after the previous evening's scare (funny how your happiness suddenly relies on the simplest things!) Luckily the cold had settled the ants a little, so we could roll up the tent in relative peace. Onto the bikes, we followed the river on up through the valley - yaks, active and fierce looking, started appearing on the verge directly above us ("don't jump don't jump" was my mantra for a few K's), so I gave them as decent a berth as the road allowed (with Hamish hollering "where you going??" as I cut across him and headed for the dirt opposite). Finally to the switchbacks...far and away not as steep as the valley had been, plus as you ride you can see some decent progress. We climbed steadily above treeline and were surrounded by a boulder-filled moonscape. The wind picked, and dark thunderheads were gathering as we arrived atop Pass 1 - with Pass 2 visible across the valley (10 K's away) we had a quick discussion on the relative merits of this particular effort (decision: ugly, not worth the trouble - or maybe we were just cold?) 

On with the extra clothes - ski gloves, jackets, hats, etc. for the descent, with the knowledge that every meter we dropped was one more to win back. Up the other side - off came the extra clothes, to the bemusement of the locals, and we carried on. 

As expected, the top of Pass 2 was cold as heck, and not a lot prettier. A few yurts and a few more striped canvas road-worker tents stretched along the track of the road - otherwise not much interrupted the high wind-swept plateau. Rain started to come down in fits and spurts, and we hid behind a mound of dirt to get out of the wind during our quick concrete-bikkie break. A headwind, duly (and glumly - we are running into the monsoon winds blowing north, so having more than our share of headwinds on this part of the trip as you'll see) noted. Knowing we had at least 10K's on this 4700+ meter plateau before we could start dropping, there was not a little cussing when it turned out "plateau" to our informants (a pair who'd written up the route in March) apparently meant something that rises and drops (and rises, and drops...yeah yeah we know it's cycling, but still!) - one of the rises being bloody close to "Pass #3", and higher than the two we'd already been over. We met a pair of Swiss cyclists heading the other direction mid-way - they looked about as miserable as we felt, so not a lot of time to chat. Again, their bikes were loaded - at least twice as heavy as ours (and the girl was TINY - don't know how she did it.) Whatever they had in there, they did not have cold weather gear, and eyed us a little jealously while shivering in tights and windbreakers. We told them if they could just get over the plateau and two (three) passes they were golden, and joked that at least they had a tailwind (we were getting the headwind full force at this point! Made the rain seem a lot worse than it probably was!) 

Finally, after not 10 but 20K's of plateau, we started to drop - and had a decent drop when we finally got started. Fortunately the sun also agreed to come out (although it was still raining!) which made the downhill on the nice tarmac we were finally back on after 20-odd K's of dirt a lot nicer. Down we went, past treeline and into a coniferous forest, hugging the river paralleling the road. 3K's out of Sangdui, our stop for the night, we ran into a massive monastery - we pulled up to have a look and debated going in, but decided to continue on as the weather was back to grim. Luckily Sangdui had one pretty little guesthouse - great assortment of locals, but not a lot of food. No matter, as we were happy to be under a roof when the rain returned. The only other news of note was the ancient guard dog they kept in the back - he must have been missing most of his teeth since rather than "Roof" he sort of gummed "Brrooof", but he "broofed" the entire night, from sundown to sunup - and then couldn't be roused for love or money the next morning! A very good Tibetan guard dog. 

Day 36 - Sangdui to Xiengcheng (83km 1125m up, 2090m down) 
We started early from our truck stop accommodation of the night before, aware that the weather packs up in the afternoon and we had a big day in front of us. The warm up for the day was a 13km switchback climb gaining 700m. The road ruthlessly climbed straight out of Sangdui, and we could see the top in between the clouds. Surprisingly the top came faster than we thought, made all the better by a bus blowing up in front of us just after it had passed us at pace on a blind corner. (The joy was further compounded as it passed us and we passed it all the way into Xiengcheng 70km later, and it only arrived minutes in front of us...) The first pass of the day at 4655m. From here we dropped into a high altitude valley with a grassy meadow floor. Yaks were everywhere and nomads tents lined the valley sides. Pretty, although cold. What a contrast from the boulder strewn valley we had climbed up to get here. Then up again to the second pass at 4750m. You could say that from here onwards it is all down hill as this was our last pass, but we know better as Tibet/ China is all hills and we have few big days yet. The good thing about high passes is the big down that follows. 34km, and 1700m later we drop in beside a river, and some warmth having shivered all the way down the downhill. Some of the corners were pretty hairy as they dropped 500m into the river. A classic one bounce, nothing but net, and you were in the river, a little flatter than you started!! 

The river valley was a huge change again, as it was heavily populated, by Tibetan standards, with every piece of flat land cultivated and the valley floor a patch work of greens and yellows as the barley was in different stages of drying. We rolled up - down - up - down and up it seemed as we eventually dropped beside the river towards Xiengcheng, only to have a nasty surprise waiting for us at the end of the day, a 200m vertical, 2K 10% climb into the town. The route information we had been following did not say anything about this little popper, and it was a nasty piece of work on tired legs and a hungry stomach! Thank goodness the town was at the top (although it just kept going and I was about ready to sit down and throw toys out of pram while Hamish tracked down the nearest takeaway!!! L-) and we found ourselves a good local restaurant to order up a feast fit for a king. As we settled into the feast the local Tibetan guesthouse owner found us, so that made finding the hotel easy. 

The guesthouse was amazing. It was the most intricate Tibetan building we have seen, with every inch of the walls and ceilings covered in paintings or carvings. It felt like a monastery and we wondered what the history of the building was. The dormitory was an impressive two storey room and anyone we talked to who stayed there was awestruck by the room. (We stayed in a double) (Just as good :-)..L-).(Coming into town, we also see THREE MASSIVE SWITCHBACKS up a mountain - this is our 1200 meter climb for the next day. Crud. L-) 

Xiengcheng Rest Day 
We enjoyed a typical rest day in Xiengcheng. Checked our email and wandered up to the local huge monastery. Another huge empty building. Hardly any monks to be seen and a massive building with impressive views of tomorrow's three switchback 1200m climb. Leah was happy as the Pistons beat the Lakers by 10 points in the NBA finals. They only need to win another two and it is all theirs. We might get to see the games in Zhongdian or Lijiang. 

Day 37 - Xiangcheng to Camp 2: 1435 meters up, 805 meters down, 60K's 
NOOOO, not another 1000+ meter day (if only I knew at this stage how bad it would get!) We started off into the mist to attack the 30K, 1200 meter uphill that had been staring us in the face for two days. A big, long, ugly hill - and yep, pretty much exactly 3 switchbacks - gotta be a record. Funnily enough we were very lucky with the weather - although we were climbing through mist/ fog/ rain for nearly 4 hours, there was NO water on the hill, so we were fortunate the weather wasn't hot! At times, the mist was so thick I couldn't see Hamish in front of me. The most memorable part of the day had to be four Chinese-Americans who passed us in a Landcruiser, then stopped and hopped out with cameras (luckily I didn't say anything mean aloud at this, as I've been prone to do recently....it can be a little overwhelming when you are tired and flashbulbs are popping all around you!) The rushed up to us - with TWO AMERICAN Snickers bars!!! We couldn't believe it - truly what goes around comes around, after we'd handed them out all the way across Tibet (then of course they took photos, but they could have pushed us off the cliff at that stage and we'd have been OK with it.) We think they might work for Mars, as they said "compliments of M&M", or maybe we were hearing things? Anyway, we enjoyed one at the top of the pass, and determined by comparison with our existing stock that nutritionally speaking, you are better going with a European-made Snickers bar - more peanuts and less sugar (which I'm sure those of you in training will be pleased to know!). 

From the pass top (lotsa prayer flags, but still no water) doooown....a FREEZING long downhill. My bike was shaking - not sure if it was from the bumps or my chattering teeth! Even Hamish had to stop to put on over trousers. Once in the valley it was better, as we followed a river to a "town" meant to be 57K's away. We were hoping there might be somewhere to stay there, as immediately after that was another 500 meter pass - and based on previous experience, most of the streams were dry and flat spots a little tough to come by. We were pretty dismayed to find that our "town" was pretty much a row of shop-shacks lacking even a decent noodle stall. Nothing for it, we'd have to go on (I was REALLY unhappy about the idea of a 2000 meter day, but nothing for it....wait til later :-)!) We got some food and continued - and were lucky enough 2K's later to run smack dab into a tiny stream trickling down a slope, with a spot perfect for hiding tents just a little ways up it. We debated going on but fortunately decided against it - fortunately, because the next day we would find ours was pretty much the only clean water on the entire pass! 
Only other news of note that night - although the stove behaved beautifully and lit the first time, after we put it out Hamish - typical boy - managed to break the lighter while playing with it (note to self - next time MATCHES!!!) Fiercely indrawn breathes all round, but luckily he managed to fix that too - the collective sigh of relief nearly extinguished the flame it finally produced though. 

Day 40 - Camp outside Xiengcheng to Derong (103km 1045m up, 1990m down) 
We pack the tent wet today, extra weight to slow Hamish down, eat our daily porridge breakfast and leave the campsite by 8:30am off up the first of today's passes. The top arrives sooner than we expect and as we have limited water we drop down into another valley before another climb to the second pass. A dry nasty place and the pass took longer than expected. A dead horse in the background kind of summed the place up (took a piccie, w/ Hamish in the background of THAT. Much appreciated :-). L-). Not a place you would lingered. We eat the last American Snickers bar and some dried tofu then head down. Dropping down again we drop into another patchwork valley with massive Tibetan houses and regular stupas all the way down. It is hard to believe the change from the dry nasty pass top to the valley floor where there is water. From here it is all downhill, or so we were told into the nasty little town of Derong. 

Ya right, yet another rolling downhill on tired legs and eventually we see the nasty Chinese town of Derong. How they could build such an ugly town after the beautiful valley we have descended through is beyond us, but that's the way. The town is wedged in on either side of a river. There was no flat ground and what flat ground there was had Chinese style tile 5 storey ugly buildings on it. The town rubbish, as far as we could tell, went straight over the side into the river. After asking a couple of people where the hotel is, we eventually find it. (I think Leah told one of the locals they were stupid in the process. The hotel must have been 50m from where we were. Luckily I cannot speak mandarin as I might not have been as generous!!) (Morons told me Derong didn't have a hotel. Me: "In ALL of Derong, not a single hotel???" Local: "Oh, well, there is the one across the bridge there". L-) The town was summed up when we walked past the local school and the teachers were smoking in class. The two monasteries that the Lonely Planet talked about were very elusive, as did not see them. 

Day 41 - Derong to Guesthouse in Tibetan town opposite Benzilan: 520 meters up, 795 meters down, 65K's - 6.5 HOURS 
What can you say about a day like this? Knackered when we arrived in Derong, we were hoping this would be a pleasant little day along the river - riiiight. First off, the wind - blistering headwind, unabated. Second, the road - an absolute shocker, dry, dusty, potholed and made out of whatever stones were available by the look of it. You couldn't do more than 15Kph with panniers on even if the wind were in your favor - we were averaging closer to 12 going (theoretically - note we rose about .7 of a meter for every meter dropped) "downhill". Not a lot of water, and just a slow, miserable, hard on the bottom day. Also, NOTHING in the way of towns/ habitations between Derong and the town we finally arrived in. 

The town, however, was bliss. Coming in, we saw what looked like a "huge", at least to our eyes, town on the other bank of the Yangtze (no way to get over to it - no bridge/ boat/ flying fox, nada). Turned out it was Benzilan - the teeny dirty place we stayed in four years before en route to Dequin! We wouldn't have recognized it - but it was only the first in a long line of things that had changed quite a lot in such a short period of time. 

Our little town on this bank of the river was great though. We skipped the big karaoke-looking place and went to a little two-story Tibetan guesthouse that looked to be family-run a couple of doors up. They were surprised to see us, but not appalled (dusty dirty sweaty and round-eyed, we sometimes engender that reaction as well), and gave us a room with four beds in it and a window that opened onto the river. Even better, they had ice-cold Pepsi's - the first of the trip as far as I can remember - in the fridge. I'd have given them all the money I had left just for those! After a wash and a bike sort-out, surrounded by all the local kiddies etc. (they think it's hilarious when Hamish washes his legs - you can see them surreptitiously comparing leg hair), we had a few games of cards and then an excellent dinner. After dinner, the mother sat down beside us and we had a chat - super-interesting, and got the history of the "town" such as it is. First off, it turned out that the road we'd just come down had closed because of a rockslide - they thought we must have come through it. We couldn't have missed it by much, as it only happened 10K's out of town, and the trucks started piling up right after we came in (we thought it seemed odd to have so many in such a little town, but who knew?), with little minivans brought in to ferry people caught on the other side into town for the night and possibly the next few days (no one knew when it would be cleared). Apparently it was unusual - big slides happen "all the time" when it rains, but the day had been dry. Hamish wasn't too fazed, but I felt pretty lucky - we'd really been going through some dodgy sections of road, and what are the odds? 

She came there with her family 18 years before. They were one of the first houses in the area - everyone else pretty much lived then (and still does today) "in the hills" - high ones surround the river on both sides, and sometimes you'll catch a glimpse of broad plateaus and terraces on top, pretty surreal. The province is the poorest in Sichuan (with Yunnan just across the border) and according to her Sichuan is "too cheap" to do anything for it. Up until a few years ago all water was brought up from the river - polluted, and people only use river water when they have to, otherwise they depend on springs out of the mountains. The town has electricity, but it's a pretty small grid, with outlying houses still dark. The road itself was only built in 1989 - before that, people traveled the 60+K's to Derong by horse or mule, or the 15K's the other direction to the Yunnan road head. As it was, the road was hardly maintained, although we've heard Sichuan does plan to pave it by 2005 - and probably large changes will occur because of it. She also said that her 14-year old son goes to school in Xiangcheng, 2 day's bus ride away, because the schools in Derong aren't good enough. Not surprising considering when we walked by the Derong school all the teachers we saw were smoking ciggies in front of a barely controlled class!!! 

One more thing that was pretty funny - she was very shy about it, but finally asked how much older Hamish was than I. When I said "3 years" she nearly fell off her chair - she said all the guys in the village had been after her to ask, but she "hadn't dared" - they thought Hamish was some old guy with his young toy girl. All very funny, and of course then everyone came over to hear that as well (must have been the beard). We had a good night's sleep, although a group of stranded guys had come late and so of course the karaoke machine had to be brought out for a while - but with the river outside, and the mozzie strip burning inside, and us at an elevation of about 2000 meters, it reminded us of nothing so much as Thailand (we almost felt a little homesick for Southeast Asia - weird, or?). 

Day 42 - Guesthouse to Zhongdian (86km, 1950m up, 780m down, 7 hours!) 
We said goodbye to the friendly Tibetan guesthouse owners and with the panniers full of mantous (we bought them out - 9, and not as many as we'd have liked! L-) we headed off out of town. The sealed road though town soon disappeared and we were back onto yesterday's bone shaking rocky dusty bad road. We bounced for an hour and eventually reached the new road, having seen it just on the other side of the Yangze river. What a relief to be off the nasty rough road and onto the new seal all the way into Zhongdian. This was familiar territory as we biked this way on our 1999/2000 cycle tour. The HUGE difference between then and now was the road. Then it was a dusty track with hardly any traffic and one bus a day from Zhongdian to Deqin. Now it is glassy smooth (in fact so smooth you could play marbles on it), but it still hard the same huge hills. Many buses a day now go between Zhongdian and Deqin and what used to be a 15 hour marathon effort is now a 6 hour cruise on smooth roads. What a huge change. 

As we left the Yangze we started to climb. Whenever you cross a major river in Tibet you climb out of the valley, usually a huge climb, and today was no exception. What had been an amazing downhill in 2000, was now a long painful uphill, climbing 1100m in 23km, then only to drop yet again and then climb higher still (in fact 1950 bloody vertical meters on this particular day!!!! Which Hamish was particularly careful NOT to mention ahead of time. L-). The road was not the only change as the population of the valley seemed to have multiplied as well. Where there was previously nothing, nowhere to stay, nowhere to get food and no people there are now guesthouses, regular food and lots of people. The change surprised us and one of the locals we talked to had commented that most of the change had happened in the last couple of years. Looking back on our photos on the web, we can see the difference. I took a picture in the same place as I did last time, and you really see the difference. 

Onward and into Zhongdian we were greeted by another change. Chinese tour buses on the plateau, and posing with a local on a horse. (I hope they were charged a lot for that photo..). Over the last little climb in a headwind and Zhongdian lay in front of us. With a little apprehension we descended into our first backpacker town since leaving Lhasa 5 weeks and 1600km ago. Our first real coffee, our first western food and first "real" (e.g. stupid, it turned out :-) - though not all! L-)backpackers lay in front of us. In some ways it was tempting to turn another and head back into the back of beyond again, as the back of beyond is not corrupted by Chinese tourists and stupid backpackers (as they are too stupid to leave the easy drug smoking, alcohol drinking Asia circuit). Instead we dropped into Zhongdian and found a really good new clean guesthouse, Kevin's Trekkers Inn. Close to the old town and not full of the idiots I talked about above. (We also met some really nice interesting people, though as a rule these are at least as old as we are or older...maybe we're ageist???? L-) 

Zhongdian has also undergone a massive change in the last four years. It has renamed itself Shangri La. A little optimistic, but they can dream and think it is Shangri La. Where there was one cheap hotel there is now many, plus you have big ugly Chinese hotels catering for the bus loads of Chinese. Where there was one little backpackers cafe, which actually had information in it, you now have several cafe with no information, but lots of information on the tours and packages they sell. (Note: Zhongdian has not changed NEARLY as much as Lijiang, as we were soon to find out. See below. L-) The thing that has not changed is the weather. Last time we were here it was cold and wet, and that has not changed. It is still a cold wet town. 

Yes we did enjoy our first real coffee, and we have enjoyed staying in a clean guesthouse with 24hr hot water, but we did not indulge in much western food, as the food standards are a lot lower than they were 4 years ago. The good food will have to wait until Zhongdian. 
By the way the Pistons won again, so Leah is happy again. One more win and the NBA will by the Pistons 

Zhongdian Rest Days - two in fact. 
Back from the wilds - are we ever! It was a heck of a ride the back way from Litang to Zhongdian, but even scarier to hit civilization again. As Hamish said, pretty tempting to turn round and head back to where the electricity is dodgy, the coffees 3-in-1, and the toilets aren't - but where there aren't any Chinese tour buses either!!!! 

What have we learned this direction? Well, passes in China seem to come in pairs if your lucky - and in triplicate if you aren't - and yes you can do multiple 1000 vertical meter +++ climbs in a row without turning into jelly - just. God watches out for drunks, small children, and traveling idiots (we've met a few of each, but most of the latter somehow) - especially those who buy a bike somewhere in China and reckon they are going to ride high passes and bad roads with it and marginal gear. Or at least we hope he does. 

Western food isn't all it'/s cracked up to be (or maybe it's just here? anyway, we keep getting hungry and reverting to mantous and eggs and tofu!) but the coffee sure is nice, and Hamish is partial to a Beer Dali or two. We're getting old and crotchety...isn't everyone? It's lovely to be able to tell Chinese tourists off in their own language - something definitely missing on the last trip. And finally, we're still having a great time - most important, as it's best to have more riding left in you than you have actual riding left (easy to say, hard to do), and with only a few actual cycling days to go, we're a little sorry to be near the end. 

The first rest day was spent doing washing. The joys of a washing machine as the clothes had not seen one of those for over a month. Clean clothes :) We also explored the town of Zhongdian not that there is too much to explore. We're just on the edge of the Horse Racing festival, happening in Zhongdian on the 22nd-24th (5th day of the 5th lunar month). It's meant to be amazing, and we've jimmied our schedule/ flights/ days to be able to see it - then we may have to ride like heck to get down south. So hopefully will be worthwhile, and we'll take lots of pictures!!! The monastery can wait until we return from Lijiang. The second rest day - most of it was spent in a warm little cafe called the Tibet cafe talking and drinking coffee. It was cold and wet, so that was a constructive use of a day. We also decided to head down to Lijiang by bus the next day (reason: we have to ride the road anyway to get to Dali, and if we don't bus we have to ride the 160K stretch 3 times. Not that nice a road, so not too bothered. L-) 

Lijiang 
OK, the bus wasn't sooo bad - but it was bad enough, and I'd be a horrible backpacker!!!!! Once we were off the bus, we almost didn't know what had hit us. Lijiang is still a beautiful city, but it is barely recognizable. Every nook and cranny is a store selling some sort of tourist souvenir - it's hard to see the lovely flagged paving stones between the Chinese tour groups. There are hardly any lovely old Naxi people left in the old square - no place for them to sit, as the Chinese tourists fill every available bench spot. On our arrival, we met a Korean guy who is studying at Beijing University - his thesis concerns how making an area a World Heritage site actually impacts it. He was disgusted - but interestingly said that the Chinese government has realized this is a problem as well, and is trying to find a way to remedy it. It's quite hard, as on the one hand it's sad to see - on the other, in so many parts of China lovely old buildings have been destroyed to make way for new tiled monstrosities that it is good to see they are recognizing the old things have something of value - and frankly there just aren't that many places a population with a growing income can go. So on some level we find it pretty awful too - but the town is still very clean by chinese standards (could be a LOT worse) and once you are out of the main circuit, you still find quiet streets and corners with a stream running through them, so hopefully in a few more years it will change again - for the better. We've enjoyed a good western meal - pretty much our first, as one of our favorite cafe owners (Kim from the Sakura Cafe - look her up if ever you are here!) from last time is still here and remembers not so much us as the group of us (10 cycle tourists, 5 of whom also got a lot of publicity leaving China as they were "Human Power Around the World") - anyway, it was good enough for free beers and a long chat, and she is doing well. We also met some smarter cyclists (we've met some absolute idiots this trip....or maybe we are just getting old? But buying a bike in China and planning to go through remote areas w/ high passes and no gear or knowledge of the route is just frickin' stupid, sorry), who were nice to chat with. Tonight it's off to see the Naxi orchestra, which we were too cheap to buy tickets to four years ago (I know, I know!), and of course today we killed a few hours watching as the Detroit Pistons absolutely murdered the Lakers in the last game of the Finals (whoo hoo, go Detroit!!!!) Tomorrow we're heading back up to Zhongdian - we'll do an overnight trip or two, and then catch at least a day of the horse races before heading off down to Dali and the final leg of the trip!

The final dayzz……………………

The Horse Racing
Ten days in Zhongdian is really too many – even with the break we got taking the bus to Lijiang (with Leah cussing all the way out, and cussing all the way back – good cyclist, bad traveler.) Foul, cold, damp weather, resulted in dual cases of the fluacious lurg (for the uninitiated, a random undiagnosed but annoying lung creepy-crawly – those of you in Singapore will no doubt appreciate this more when I hack up a lung next to you mid-way around Kranji!). Even the one attempt at a side trip outside of Zhongdian was abandoned 20 km out due to the worst road either of us had ever ridden on (mud, mud, mud, and clay – and road works, it goes without saying. Still digging the clay out of my clip pedals now, and I think my white frame will never be the same!) Luckily we had a couple of friends, (Matt, a New Zealander working in Laos who made the trip from Kunming to Zhongdian in record time, and Martin who happens to be Calum’s (of Calum and Amy) cousin) arrived to make it a bit more fun. Martin was knocked out day two by an ugly bug, but the last we heard he’s back on beer so we think he’s recovered. Matt, who in the course of his work for the UN goes everywhere and eats everything (think “random bugs and funny worms”), was generally a lot of fun to have along and after two days of his company we were sorry to leave). 

So finally the day of the Horses Races arrived. We were told by a few locals in the know (namely by a 4-year Zhongdian resident from Iowa named Scott, who sets up local schools and hospitals …picture cowboy hat and ZZ Top beard to the knees) to arrive early for good seats, so in a light drizzle we found ourselves plowing through (more) mud and fried yak vendors to the track. A proper track awaited us, with a covered stand for the local political leaders and their mates, and a large uncovered terraced concrete bank opposite for the locals. It was even fenced to protect the locals from wayward horses, and this certainly got a work out later in the day. In the middle of the track was a wildflower-covered oval with a stage, facing the politicians naturally, for the pre-race Tibetan performances. Around in the hillside, out of town Tibetans had erected colorful tents and were staying for the duration of the races (3 days, plus or minus). By the time the performances commenced at around 9.30am the stands were full, with the overflow of people dotting the surrounding hillsides. On either side of us sat locals in their Sunday finest - colorful traditional head scarves, pony tails, cowboy hats, big boots etc., but not a tourist in our vicinity (we’d been worried this would all be a touristy sham – not so, judging by our neighbors!!). Tremendously diverse folk abounded – Zhongdian is definitely a melting pot between the low- and highlands. From a distance the stands appeared pink, as the local female Kham Tibetans have taken to wearing fluorescent pink head wraps (what, Matt wondered, did they do before the advent of fluorescent pink dye??) Spectacular to say the least, and made better when the sun appeared for the first time that week. 

The other thing catching the eye was the military presence – little PLA (People’s Liberation Army) soldiers in green planted firmly around the track and in the stands at regular intervals. They all looked about 15 years old and a little out of place. By comparison the local police (present as well) looked, well, local - and like decent guys – i.e. they had facial expressions and were occasionally captured in the act of smiling or talking to people.

What we could see of the cultural performance was lively – but frankly, we were more interested in the old-fashioned high-noon standoff that ensued between the locals and the PLA. Because of the stage location, the politicos had an excellent view of the planned festivities – not so the huddled masses (isn’t it funny how this seems to happen in systems “for the people”?). A few restless locals jumped the stands (over a barrier, down a 2-3 meter drop, and across a mud track) and ran to the wildflower-covered field for a closer look (much to the dismay of the PLA – the local police, truly good-natured, were bemused but complacent). Bored spectators still on our side thought this was a grand idea, and slowly the trickle increased, first from one end, then the other, until a tidal wave of people were springing the barrier and then quickly side-stepping the PLA (who had decided they’d better get in the way and NOW) and sprinting for the flowers. Initially caught unawares, our men in green started massing near the stage as well, finally forming two lines to push people back from the stage in a classic “crowd control” movement. They really took exception to anyone behind the stage in the line of sight of the local politicians (and, goes without saying, the TV cameras. L-). All the while performers danced and twirled right in the middle of the deadlock, and around us people started muttering. Totally bizarre. No batons were used, although we did see a few thrown (in frustration?) at mid-air fence hurtling Tibetans – pretty ineffective, but laughs from spectators all round. A few monks staged an impromptu sit-in, but after a bit they were persuaded to move to a better seat (out of crowd sight, still on the field), and most of the locals were pushed back or off (boos and grumbling from our side). Then the locals got bored again (they couldn’t see the dancing, and the singers were pretty average) and started jumping the barrier again. Realization seemed to be dawning on the army that it was fighting a losing battle, and we watched as they staged a last stand as successful as Custer’s, attempting to keep the locals out of the direct line of sight of the political leaders. Red flag to a bull - one poor unfortunate little soldier was given the task of keeping 200 –300 locals spread over 50m out of the field behind the stage. For a few moments there was a line of people, but as he turned his back one side would shuffle right, then the other, and suddenly in a tsunami the crowd broke and ran for the flowers (those bloody flowers again!). At this stage the army gave up, and pretty much stood at attention looking silly (and still the flow from the stands, over the fence and the track and into the flowers continued). Having spent the morning watching from a distance, I (Hamish) jumped the fence as well (wasn’t everyone?) to get a closer view of the action.

The inner oval by this time was covered in people. Some sat taking pictures in the wild flowers; some watched the performances and some queued up to get their picture taken with the performers (especially the pretty girls – Haim was right there and got pushed off by a PLA general! L-). In the meantime I ran around a taking pictures. Eventually the performances ended and a 2 hour break was called so everyone could go a eat at the local tents (talk about food fight! I watched a 4-foot tall amma lay a guy out to get at the Styrofoam rice bowls! L-) and play a few games at the local side-shows (roped-off open areas filled with goodies and games). One popular game was to roll a small hula-hoop out and hope it landed around something good. Another was a 10-pin bowling alley, complete with 10 large concrete-filled beer cans for pins, and a soccer ball for the bowling ball. Even a budding Pele would have had trouble with that one. We wandered around like small kids trying food here (when we could beat the ammas to it), taking a few pictures there and finally settling down beside some locals to eat and drink a couple of beers in the sun. (But not before I’d accidentally tried to buy some BBQ off an innocent family with half a yak roasting outside their tent, thinking it was a food stand. L-) Quite funny, as we snapped shots of the wild-looking people walking by, and had a few taken of us whiteys as well.

The afternoon session was the real event: the horse racing. The horses were a collection of local hacks, tiny ponies and a few larger purebreds (not pure per se, but looked surprisingly like American thoroughbreds! L-). Speed was the goal, although running in a straight line and cornering proved equally desirable as the day progressed. We, through sheer dumb luck and a lack of seats, were at the end of the first straight next to the exit gate, and this proved the place to be. Group after group of contenders bolted over the start line and down the first straight; invariably the smart one (the leader, often as not) would ignore the corner and aim straight for the gate at top speed. “We have a runner!” Roars from the crowd, while the jockey, riding bareback with no stirrups, would desperately try to halt the charge and turn the beastie. At this point chaos reigned and the local Tibetans who were positioned for exactly this eventuality would jump out waving arms, legs and hats and try to deter the horse. Luckily this worked most of the time (only one full-on pile and a couple others actually hit the fence – no one was injured, although the horses looked pleased. L-), and the horse would be off in the right direction again after a few slaps on the backside and a couple of well-aimed stones. Very funny for all involved except the jockey. The crowd was as a rule very pleasant, as often as not cheering the hack out there in last place (a couple galloped round complacently miles after the main field, decked to the nines and ridden by a fur-hatted gold-toothed gent regally giving them a quirt occasionally for show.)

The last races of the day were the yak races. These were what everyone wanted the see, and whenever the yak race was mentioned in the build-up laughter ensued. Four unfortunate beasts (who would likely much rather be eating or eating, but there it was) were lead into the arena by their jockeys. The start line was moved to shorten the race (but not enough), photos taken, and they were off – naturally in four different directions. The fastest zig-zagged, another went for the TV truck (go yak!). Eventually they were all running in the same direction, but most had trouble rounding the home straight corner. The running halted abruptly (far as we can tell, 200 meters running is about the limit for a yak) and the plodding began, while the jockeys tried to threaten, plead, and coerce that extra yard out of them. Something happened down the far end and one of the jockeys fell off (at this stage the yaks were moving at about 2 kph – they really aren’t built for speed! L-). Roar of laughter all round. How the poor guy managed to fall off a yak that was traveling at 2 kph is anyone’s guess (and he’ll probably never live it down) but it certainly added to the fun. 

The second yak race was much the same as the first but this time the trainers, (how do you train a yak? L-) walked behind the yaks “coercing” them, with a few enthusiastic spectators helping out – not a noticeable difference in terms of average speed, as I think it takes more than that to convince a yak. With that the day was over - well worth the wait even in cold damp Zhongdian. The other great horse racing festival is in Litang on the 1st August each year. Now that would be wild, as Zhongdian was positively tame compared to Litang. In Litang there is no track, just open grasslands. Maybe on the next trip….

Day 43 - Zhongdian to Qaiotou – Lijiang (96km 360m up, 1700m down – 86km, 1140m up, 600m down)

The next day we were off. Bikes loaded up and we left town, although a little slower than usual after 10 days of no real cycling. The ride to Qaiotou was uneventful, although we did enjoy a 40km downhill dropping off the Tibetan plateau (3200m) for the last time to the Yangtze at 2000m. Goodbye Tibet. We took a couple of pictures at the same stupa we passed 4 years ago, but last time we were heading in the opposite direction. Dropping into the Yangtze valley was a little sad; Tibet had been awesome. Good-bye the remote areas of Tibet and the hard travel; hello the easy world of freshly brewed coffee and chocolate cakes every night. 

Day 44 - Qiaotou
Most folks go here to start the Tiger Leaping Gorge trek (and to see the eclectic Margo, who has been running a backpackers on the trail since dirt was young.) We thought we might cycle out along the now resurfaced road, but that plan was halted with the news that rockfall had killed four folks in a car a couple days previously and the road was closed for a week. We decided we weren’t really that interested in a possible pancaking this late in the game, and continued on the next morning. It was a beautiful day, but hot and with a 1000-meter vertical to get up (had to climb OUT of the Yangtze valley of course – in cycling as in life, no 40K downhill goes unanswered) on unfit legs we were feeling it. Our misery was eased somewhat by the folks selling fresh peaches, plums, strawberries etc. on the roadside. I (Hamish) added an extra 2lbs of peaches for the climb into Lijiang, but it was well worth the effort as they were divine. Also marvelous – for the first time in the entire trip we could PURCHASE COLD DRINKS and ICE CREAM from roadside stands….so civilization does have its benefits!!! From now onwards we always had fresh fruit rolling around in the panniers, and a cold drink in sight. Pretty luxurious.

Lijiang
Back in Lijiang we revisited the same friendly guesthouse we stayed in last time, and also revisited Kim at the Sakura Café for the most awesome lasagna and English Breakfasts a hungry cyclist could ever ask for. A great rest day spent doing what only a cycle tourist can do best, eating and nothing. 

Day 45 - Lijiang to Xiyi (91km, 725m up, 740m down) 
After a huge English breakfast we set off for Dali on the direct road, or rather about half way for the first night. Dropping from Lijiang we felt like we had entered South East Asia again. Rice paddies everywhere, lots of water and the weather was hot. Hard to believe we were in Zhongdian (in the rain, and the cold) on the Tibetan plateau 4 days ago. The contrast was huge and I am sure our bodies were wondering what hit them, as we sweated our way to Xiyi, about half way to Zhongdian, at the top of a baby 400m climb. A pretty average town, night, and roadside guesthouse – but the sun setting over the green hilltops more than made up for the rest.

Day 46 Xiyi – Dali (90km, 700m up, 1100m down)
The next day started slowly, as I had a flat before we had even started. That makes three between us. Not bad for close to 7,000km of cycling (our secret – good tubes and the best tires you can afford!). After the slow start we climbed out of Xiyi and then rolled for quite a while along a ridgeline overlooking a fog-filled river valley. The scenery was reminiscent of northern Vietnam/ Laos, with red dirt and as many flies and mozzies and you could wish for. No brekkie to speak of (a package of dried tofu and a concrete biscuit each – average guesthouse wasn’t open for meals, and neither was anywhere else) had both of us a little edgy, and Dali couldn’t come fast enough. Finally, after being halted by the army so they could fire off a few missiles from a row of tanks at the ready (HUH???) we hit the downhill – a sweeping 800-meter paved thing of beauty. At the bottom we succumbed to fresh Muslim bread and a little man with a cart full of peaches, before finishing the 40km flat grovel into a headwind (of course) all the way to Dali. THE END OF THE CYCLING. An uneventful arrival, a couple of strong coffees and an imaginary tear that it was all over.

The way home
Dali didn’t really grab us this time – lots of backpackers and Chinese tourists – and as the road to Kunming was torn up (road works again – same same) a day later we found ourselves on the bus to Kunming. There, in quick succession we tracked down (cardboard) bike boxes from a bemused little man, decided there wasn’t really anything that interesting in the outdoor shops, talked SilkAir into giving us an extra 10Kgs each of luggage allowance, mailed home everything else (“honest, it’s just pharmaceuticals and needles…you know, a first aid kit…uh…), and moved our flights back to the 1st so we could see friends leaving Singapore and get that little jump on the visa process. 

Our recommendations? Dali is pretty done nowadays, and Kunming is still as nice a city as you’ll find in China. And when flying with bikes, they WILL give you more weight if you ask early! So July 1st found us on the plane, with all our remaining gear, and China in the window below us – a marvelous three months, but real life has to start some time (sort of). Thanks for reading!

The next day we were off. Bikes loaded up and we left town, although a little slower than usual after 10 days of no real cycling. The ride to Qaiotou was uneventful, although we did enjoy a 40km downhill dropping off the Tibetan plateau (3200m) for the last time to the Yangtze at 2000m. Goodbye Tibet. We took a couple of pictures at the same stupa we passed 4 years ago, but last time we were heading in the opposite direction. Dropping into the Yangtze valley was a little sad; Tibet had been awesome. Good-bye the remote areas of Tibet and the hard travel; hello the easy world of freshly brewed coffee and chocolate cakes every night. 

Day 44 - Qiaotou
Most folks go here to start the Tiger Leaping Gorge trek (and to see the eclectic Margo, who has been running a backpackers on the trail since dirt was young.) We thought we might cycle out along the now resurfaced road, but that plan was halted with the news that rockfall had killed four folks in a car a couple days previously and the road was closed for a week. We decided we weren’t really that interested in a possible pancaking this late in the game, and continued on the next morning. It was a beautiful day, but hot and with a 1000-meter vertical to get up (had to climb OUT of the Yangtze valley of course – in cycling as in life, no 40K downhill goes unanswered) on unfit legs we were feeling it. Our misery was eased somewhat by the folks selling fresh peaches, plums, strawberries etc. on the roadside. I (Hamish) added an extra 2lbs of peaches for the climb into Lijiang, but it was well worth the effort as they were divine. Also marvelous – for the first time in the entire trip we could PURCHASE COLD DRINKS and ICE CREAM from roadside stands….so civilization does have its benefits!!! From now onwards we always had fresh fruit rolling around in the panniers, and a cold drink in sight. Pretty luxurious.

Lijiang
Back in Lijiang we revisited the same friendly guesthouse we stayed in last time, and also revisited Kim at the Sakura Café for the most awesome lasagna and English Breakfasts a hungry cyclist could ever ask for. A great rest day spent doing what only a cycle tourist can do best, eating and nothing. 

Day 45 - Lijiang to Xiyi (91km, 725m up, 740m down) 
After a huge English breakfast we set off for Dali on the direct road, or rather about half way for the first night. Dropping from Lijiang we felt like we had entered South East Asia again. Rice paddies everywhere, lots of water and the weather was hot. Hard to believe we were in Zhongdian (in the rain, and the cold) on the Tibetan plateau 4 days ago. The contrast was huge and I am sure our bodies were wondering what hit them, as we sweated our way to Xiyi, about half way to Zhongdian, at the top of a baby 400m climb. A pretty average town, night, and roadside guesthouse – but the sun setting over the green hilltops more than made up for the rest.

Day 46 Xiyi – Dali (90km, 700m up, 1100m down)
The next day started slowly, as I had a flat before we had even started. That makes three between us. Not bad for close to 7,000km of cycling (our secret – good tubes and the best tires you can afford!). After the slow start we climbed out of Xiyi and then rolled for quite a while along a ridgeline overlooking a fog-filled river valley. The scenery was reminiscent of northern Vietnam/ Laos, with red dirt and as many flies and mozzies and you could wish for. No brekkie to speak of (a package of dried tofu and a concrete biscuit each – average guesthouse wasn’t open for meals, and neither was anywhere else) had both of us a little edgy, and Dali couldn’t come fast enough. Finally, after being halted by the army so they could fire off a few missiles from a row of tanks at the ready (HUH???) we hit the downhill – a sweeping 800-meter paved thing of beauty. At the bottom we succumbed to fresh Muslim bread and a little man with a cart full of peaches, before finishing the 40km flat grovel into a headwind (of course) all the way to Dali. THE END OF THE CYCLING. An uneventful arrival, a couple of strong coffees and an imaginary tear that it was all over.

The way home
Dali didn’t really grab us this time – lots of backpackers and Chinese tourists – and as the road to Kunming was torn up (road works again – same same) a day later we found ourselves on the bus to Kunming. There, in quick succession we tracked down (cardboard) bike boxes from a bemused little man, decided there wasn’t really anything that interesting in the outdoor shops, talked SilkAir into giving us an extra 10Kgs each of luggage allowance, mailed home everything else (“honest, it’s just pharmaceuticals and needles…you know, a first aid kit…uh…), and moved our flights back to the 1st so we could see friends leaving Singapore and get that little jump on the visa process. 

Our recommendations? Dali is pretty done nowadays, and Kunming is still as nice a city as you’ll find in China. And when flying with bikes, they WILL give you more weight if you ask early! So July 1st found us on the plane, with all our remaining gear, and China in the window below us – a marvelous three months, but real life has to start some time (sort of). Thanks for reading!