Rupert & Fanny's Ride thru China Aug'08 on two CFMoto 650TR's

This RR by Rupert & Fanny deserves a place on MCM, so I have taken the liberty to do just that, before the original RR and photos are lost to time or other forces...

Links to the original RR and other associated posts related to the RR...

Around the world by motorcycles (58000km)
http://bigbiketrip.net

China RR on two CFMoto 650TR's
www.weibo.com/bigbiketrip
http://bigbiketrip.net/2012/08/27/%E4%B8%AD%E5%9B%BD/

Related MCM threads (post #16 onwards)
http://www.mychinamoto.com/forums/sh...to-TR650/page2

Other posts elsewhere (from #17 onwards)
http://carigold.com/portal/forums/sh...=382514&page=2

Chapter 18 – 中国 Part 1

http://bigbiketrip.net/2012/08/27/%E4%B8%AD%E5%9B%BD/

By Rupert & Fanny

The planning for the China leg of our expedition was solely in the hands of Fanny （方怡）. I had agreed that if she managed to arrange motorcycles and sponsorship to support us then I would fly out and be her wing-man and basically do as I’m told. A tall order granted. I still had a few air-miles from the days when I actually had a job and used them up flying from London to Hangzhou (杭州) which is in Zhe Jiang province（浙江省), just 35 minutes by the 400 Kph train (高铁) from Shanghai (上海). Why Hangzhou? That’s where our new motorcycles come from.

I had done the London to Hong Kong flight many times and Cathay Pacific is an excellent airline. As usual, I spent most of the flight asleep. Before I boarded I did get stopped at Heathrow airport by security who were concerned about the fact I was getting on the flight in full motorcycle Enduro/Adventure kit. My bag was full of electronic gizmos and the security officer probably regretted asking me to take everything off as the rancid odour of my Alpinestar Tech 3 boots wafted through the x-ray machines. I apologised with embarrassment as people clearly started to notice and give them a wide berth.

Twelves hours later I transferred onto a Dragonair flight in Hong Kong that took a further two hours to get to Hangzhou where Fanny was waiting for me. I was very happy to see her and we immediately switched to the Chinese channel. Despite the fact that I had tried to keep up my Mandarin throughout the expedition there really is no substitute for actually being in China, seeing all the signs and being forced to speak and understand it. Fanny had arrived earlier by high speed train from Shanghai and booked us into a very nice studio apartment. Early the next day we were picked up by a limousine and taken to the Chun Feng Moto HQ in Yu Hang (余杭）where the bosses very warmly welcomed us, gave us a VIP tour and handed over two brand new motorcycles.

I was vaguely familiar with CF Moto because recently in the British motorcycle newspaper, MCN, there was an article about the new CF Moto 650NK which was being imported into the UK for the first time. There was a lot of discussion (positive and negative) about the first Chinese big engined motorcycles and the impact the Chinese are going to have on the motorcycle industry. Up to this point the Chinese were only making, and making in huge numbers, scooters, quad biikes and small engined bikes below 125 cc and so a lot of parallels were being made with the Japanese motorcycle industry forty years ago and their subsequent dominance of the market.

The bikes we were being given were not the 650NKs, which are sort of naked street fighter types, but the touring 650TRs. Why Fanny had chosen CF Moto rather than a manufacturer that made enduro or adventure bikes was not understood by me at that time, but I was subsequently let into some news that made it all clear and which I cannot divulge until November. 现在我完全明白。 That said I was not a touring bike fan, had never owned one and the closest thing I had really ridden for any distance was a Suzuki GSXR 1300 Hayabusa which is more of a sports tourer and at the time I owned one in 1999 was the fastest production bike in the world with a top speed above 200 Mph (310Kph).

Our proposed route through China was discussed and I looked skeptically at the bikes and wondered if they would handle the challenging road conditions in places like Xizang (西藏) and Qinghai (青海) and indeed anything remotely “off road”. I would really liked to have ridden our KTMs in China and there would be many roads and places we would ride through where the KTMs would have been perfect, but for now that was just not possible and so I embraced my new bike with cheerful optimism.

I was very thankful and relieved that we were being fully supported by CF Moto with their extensive distributor and service network and so my worries about reliability and indeed suitability were somewhat allayed. Also, we knew of another expedition who were riding a mixture of bikes, including the 650 NK and TR and they reported favourably on their handling and reliability and gave us some recommendation about minor modifications and spares we should bring.

The bikes would need to be licensed, number plated and insured, which is a tricky process in China and involved Fanny, among other things, having to be registered as a Hangzhou citizen under China’s Hukou system. For me? I would need a Chinese driving licence that required going to the police station to register a residential address in Hangzhou, going for a medical, eyesight and hearing test, translating my UK driving licence into Chinese at an official Public Security Bureau centre, and since I wanted a permanent rather than a temporary licence, passing the driving licence theory test at an approved transport bureau center. The first things we rushed about and got done pretty quickly, but the last I had to swot up and cram throughout the night to achieve the 90% pass mark.

The test was trickier than I assumed as the questions in English were grammatically incorrect, ambiguous and very confusing and the only possible way to pass was to rote learn the answers from a bank of several thousand. The most difficult was trying to remember the Chinese names of all the various government departments, the traffic officer hand signals and the bizarre 1st Aid questions and answers that bore little resemblance to any of the previous courses and exams I had done in the police in England or Hong Kong, or as a paragliding instructor. Do you really tie a tourniquet around someones neck if they are bleeding from a leg wound? You do in China, but I suspect probably to stop them claiming compensation for injury and damages in the future.

My first attempt at the mandatory 100 questions required me to guess the answers to at least 20 questions as neither the official text book, logic or common sense could help me and I failed with 87% and was majorly pissed off. Fortunately, I had time to resit the exam and despite completely different questions, I scraped through with exactly 90% and so with a huge grin I took my pass certificate to the Transport Department with Fanny and was issued with a shiny green PRC driving licence.

We were also being sponsored by “The North Face” who very kindly sent us a huge box full of top of the range clothes, shoes, sleeping bags, an expedition tent, high tech ruck sacks and new water proof duffle bags to put everything in. Yet again my big size 12 feet prevented me getting any shoes for myself, and I looked at the super quality ones Fanny had been given with envy. If only I had had such a pair when I did the Offa’s Dyke walk a month earlier. Oh well.

And so we were ready. We had lunch with the bosses and their support team who wished us well and sent us off to Nanjing （南京）so that we could run the bikes in with a 400 Km ride there and 400 Kms back to test the bikes and to get in two oil and filter changes before we set off. We were also having my GPS fitted and wired up… and just as well as navigating the first 400 Kms was extremely tricky as motorcycles are not allowed on the direct and easy to navigate expressways and so we had to stay on provincial and county roads which can, on occasion, be confusing and not very direct, especially as some of the Chinese characters of place names were not known to me.

It was on this initial ride I started to get used to the signage, the roads and became all to aware of the atrocious driving standard of local drivers. It takes a certain nerve, or perhaps lack of imagination to drive or ride on Chinese roads and for the first few thousand kilometers I had no nerve whatsoever and far too much imagination. I hate to think what my old traffic division police colleagues would have thought. A nightmare.

The bikes handled really nicely. Very pleasantly surprised at how balaced the bike was and how smooth the power delivery was. With 75 BHP engines the bikes were powerful enough for what we needed them for and the riding position was quite comfortable. The gear box took a little getting used to but gradually settled in and eventually I could locate neutral. I would say the only shortcomings are the windscreen that directs the wind and dust straight into my face; the indicator switch that is just too cheap and vague; and by far my biggest complaint are the mirrors which are a cost cutting too far. They are completely useless, made of cheap material and only give a vague and blurry “hall of mirrors” idea of what’s behind you, which may indeed be a good thing in China.

The clutch is cable operated rather than hydraulic and like motorcycles from an older generation needs some adjustment after initial run in to get just right. Other niggles are minor and really relate to the quality of materials and finish, like the seat which starts to get painful after 200-300 kilometers and the glove compartments, which although really useful and a good substitute for not having a tank bag, are not Honda or BMW quality, but then the bike is not Honda or BMW price and I would say overall is excellent value for money.

If CF Moto or another OEM manufacturer can produce some good after market parts and accessories to address these shortcomings they are going to be successful. As for overall reliability? That assessment will have to wait for a few thousand kilometers more, but so far the bikes handle well on tar and on indeed on the many stretches of Chinese road that have no surface or are being rebuilt or repaired.

I do miss my KTM though, it is a super tough bike, has immense character, very comfortable, can be ridden all day and of course off road or on gravel, sand, mud, or potholed roads, nothing can touch it. That said, we were both excited to be riding a brand new motorcycle and relieved that we have a network of CF Moto garages throughout China to help us if something goes wrong.

Chapter 19 – 中国 Part 2

http://bigbiketrip.net/2012/09/02/%E...%9B%BD-part-2/

I am a bit like a dog in China. I get fed once a day; complete strangers come up to me and stroke the hairs on my arms; certain hotels and places wont let me in; and a lot of the time I haven’t a clue what people are talking about. But it’s not so bad… could be worse… I could be made to wear hi-viz clothing, live in the rain, eat lard, watch Jerry Kyle on TV tormenting the underclass, and give most of my hard earned cash to the UK Government to squander. I guess its not so bad being a pet “laowai” in China.

Riding into Xingping in Guangxi province was a great relief for us. We found it to be a little paradise and a far cry from the maddening grey concrete hell holes that are the Chinese cities and towns we had ridden through so far. None of them attractive, all done on the cheap and completely devoid of any form of taste or style, and absolutely no consideration for the environment. I was getting really tired and fed up with the pollution, tired of the ugliness, tired of the trash and litter, tired of the smashed up roads, tired of the selfish and inconsiderate driving, tired of the slovenly and revolting behaviour of many of the men and some of the women, tired of the dust in my eyes, tired of being constantly on edge and alert to the dangerous riding conditions, and especially tired of oncoming cars, buses and trucks overtaking into our lane and bullying us off the road.

So as the sprawling urban mess and chaos slowly turned into the green and unique relief of the karst limestone mountains that surround Yangshuo and Guilin my mood improved.. a bit. This part of Guangxi province is truly spectacular and there are few places like it in the world. The farms and fields and network of canals and rivers are particularly special and for the first time for a while I was really enjoying the ride. Fanny decided we should go to Xingping which is how Yangshuo used to be before the corrupt local authorities and developers started ruining it. For now anyway, it is relatively undeveloped and remains quite charming. The stunningly beautiful view from the banks of the Li Jiang river in Xingping is actually depicted on the back of the 20 Yuan bank note. It must be special as there are only six different bank notes in China, each with a picture of one of its special landmarks on the reverse.

I had to admit I was missing the power, handling and excitement of my KTM. It would have been ideal for the route we had taken so far and the physical presence and roar of the Akropoviks would have cleared a decent path through the hoards of the great unwashed and presented a formidable opponent to the bullying black Audi A6s that lord it over everyone on Chinese roads.
That said, our CF Moto 650 TRs were not bad at all and were handling pretty well. It was a very pleasant surprise to me as Chinese bikes up to now were nearly all small, cheap, cheerful and had a reputation for not being particularly reliable or well made. Our CF Motos were very different. The 650 cc parallel twin cylinder engine is excellent and very smooth across the whole power band. I could hardly describe them as powerful, but the bikes were more than fast enough to my mind, reaching a respectable 180kph without any shake, rattle or roll. They are surprisingly quiet too, both from wind and engine noise.

The KYB front and rear shocks are good quality, but neither the front nor rear are adjustable and so the setting is not always optimal to all the road surfaces we rode over. However, on the majority of normal tarmac roads they did the job well enough, although a bit bouncy when hitting the wavy corrugations and depressions caused by the seriously overloaded trucks. Cornering through the twisty mountain passes, always a litmus test for a good bike, was surprisingly good and whilst not as flickable as a true sports bike like a Yamaha R1 or Honda Fireblade, not bad at all. In fact, I was enjoying myself and Fanny’s confidence on the corners had definitely improved as I saw her banking over nicely and moving swiftly through the many corners and mountain twists. On the off road sections (ie no road surface at all) the bike is quite nicely balanced and we were able to navigate around the debris, cracks and potholes easily enough. Occasionally we would plummet off the edge of the tarmac or concrete into a pothole and crash out again, but with 17 inch wheels front and back that’s to be expected. Its a road bike and naturally likes being on roads but I would not be too concerned taking it onto gravel and mud, as we did quite a few times. The Chinese made CST 616 tubeless radial tyres that come standard with the bikes seem to do the job, and we’ll report on these and give a full appraisal of the bikes in more detail later on in the trip.

My only complaint I suppose is the quality of the mirrors that distort the rear view too much, and the seat which started to get rather uncomfortable after 200-250 kilometers of riding. With bum weights of 85Kg for myself and 68Kg for Fanny the foam deformed down onto the plastic frame a little too much and the resulting angle forced both of us too far forward causing my crown jewels to press against the petrol tank and our bent knees to squash against the petrol tank rests on the side of the fairing. That said, no different to many other similar styled bikes I had ridden and luckily the cushioning of the pads in our Rev’It trousers softened the pressure on our knees. Not much I can do about having a huge pair of 鸵鸟蛋 on any bike I ride。
I am finding, compared with riding the previous 40,000 kilometers on the KTMs in Africa and Europe, that my eyes are tired and sore at the end of the day. I think this is due largely to the terrible pollution and dust particles in the air in most parts of China, and not helped by the low streamlined windscreen design on the 650TR that seems to accurately direct the wind straight into my visor. It would be better if the windshield was adjustable or had a pelican scoop at the top to deflect the wind up over my helmet.

My KTM 990 Adventure R had an after market KTM gel seat that had been pretty comfortable throughout the whole of our expedition and an expedition windscreen that deflected most of the wind so that most of the trip I had my visor up so I could see better and my eyes were only protected by sunglasses. The riding position on the KTM is also higher, more upright and more relaxed as more of our weight is taken off our backsides by the position of the foot pegs. There are few bikes that allow such extended periods of riding standing up on the foot pegs with such confidence, comfort and control as a KTM 990 Adventure. With The CF Moto 650TR, the riding position is typically that of a sports tourer, although when I toured Europe some years back on a Suzuki GSXR 1300 Hayabusa the ride was perhaps a little more comfortable because the motorcycle is bigger and despite being a bit of an ugly beast perfectly streamlined for high speed touring. Overall, however, I have been impressed with the CF Moto. Not bad at all and definitely superb value for money.

We stayed in Xingping for a few days, hired bicycles and toured through the countryside, orchards and vegetable fields along river bank and I went swimming in the Li Jiang river. I also did some climbing which tested my acrophobia somewhat as some cliff faces had to be scaled by precariously attached metal ladders that swayed and wobbled under the strain of my European girth. But it was worth it as the view from the top, especially at dawn and dusk was truly spectacular. Both Xingping and the climb are highly recommended.

As we left Xingping towards Guizhou province on an unsurfaced road a peasant tractor towing a mini bus full of people that was on my right hand side suddenly pulled left across my path and I narrowly missed it. However, it forced Fanny who was immediately behind me off the road and into a sandy ditch and she dropped the bike causing a bruise to her arm and slight damage to her bike. I was furious and confronted the driver who was unrepentant and particularly surly. Other than smacking his blackened rotting teeth further into his ugly formed face there was little I could do. In fact, I could barely understand him, and was heartened that Fanny couldn’t either, such was his distortion of “biaozhun” Mandarin. No question of compensation, no apology, in fact no recognition at all that he was driving badly and caused an accident that had injured a woman. I stared at him for a while and quickly realized it was like trying to communicate with an inanimate object. Pointless, and so we dusted ourselves down, and soldiered on.

Whilst the cities, traffic, pollution, architectural vandalism and never ending concrete and construction can get you down in China, the food is always fantastic and always cheered us up at the end of the day. We were eating one meal a day, with perhaps a few sunflower seeds (guazi) and petrol station Red Bull drinks and coffees the rest of the day. Usually we would get up, pack, and get going, stopping only at petrol stations and places to take pictures until we got to our final destination of the day where we would spend no more than 100 RMB on a room, take a welcome shower and about pay about 50-70 RMB for a full blown Chinese dinner with perhaps local beer or green tea.

I had put on weight in Europe, despite training, running and hiking as much as I could, but by the end of the second week in China I had lost 8 kilograms since I had arrived without really trying. I say without really trying and perhaps i should say without feeling hungry. We basically ate one meal at the end of the day and the rest of the day just had water, coffee, tea and fruit. I am a true Chinese food fan and firmly believe the food, tea and indeed medicine are more nutritious and healthy to anything found anywhere else in the world. As I am better traveled than most people I feel this is a view I am fully qualified to hold. You just have to compare the figure of a huaren （华人）from China with a huaren from the UK or the USA to prove the healthiness and nutrition of respective diets.

While we were in Guizhou, a particularly remote part of China, we found many of the petrol stations had run out of fuel and like in Africa the petrol pump attendants could give no idea when the petrol tanker would arrive to replenish their stock. Again like in Africa there were some entrepreneurial types who stock piled the fuel and sold it by the side of the road. Of course, where better to position your black market stockpile than right next to the garage that frequently runs dry and that is where Fanny found a chap selling petrol in clear 7Up bottles at double the pump price. Nice business if you can get it. What was particularly amusing was that the marked up black market petrol was still cheaper than any petrol sold in Europe.

Whilst motorcycles are banned on Chinese expressways, and indeed in certain cities, like Hangzhou, we found we could easily get onto them by squeezing through the barriers which, unlike tolls in Europe, do not extend across the whole of the lane. There would inevitably be some frantic arm waving by the concerned looking toll booth staff, but the traffic police officers we passed just ignored us. In fact, in Guizhou motorcycles can use the newly constructed expressways even though we actually entered the expressway system in Guangxi.

In Guizhou, despite being one of the poorest provinces in China, the expressways are excellent, virtually empty and they crossed over dozens of impressive suspension bridges and through hundreds of tunnels across the mountainous province. This allowed us to make good progress towards Yunnan and at the same time get a birdseye view of the remote valleys, villages and mountains of Guizhou, a province with the most ethnic minority （少数民族）people and villages in the whole of China. A fascinating and remote place, and where, we were later to find, a botanist friend of ours from Poland found a new species of plant the previous month.

Whilst we were cruising along the three lane highway, which we had mostly to ourselves, we came across a guy (Mr Wang from Jilin … a province of China that borders North Korea) on a fully laden up Chinese made adventure bike (“Eagle King”) who was riding from his home town in north east China to Tibet. He was the first real adventure biker we had met on the road so far and as with our fellow motorcyclists we had met in Africa and Europe we stopped by the side of the road to examine each others bikes, swap stories and share routes and plans.

We got into Kunming in Yunnan province quite quickly by China standards and despite not being allowed in the city rode straight through it and passed many police officers who smiled and waved at us. We rode to the “posh” end of town where Fanny had booked us into a superb hotel called Li Du Jiu Dian. Much to Fanny’s relief we could park the bikes right next to a 24 hour guard and under the gaze of the hotel’s 24/7 security CCTV cameras. Now she knows how I felt in Egypt when I left the KTMs outside our hotels in Alexandria and Cairo.

Whilst in Kunming we were looked after by Mr Qu, a former motocross champion and veteran of the Xinjiang Rally. He also ran a rather elite motorcycle club called “Ku Mo” (酷摩）that was home to fifty or so BMWs, KTMs, Harley Davidsons and other bikes. After some amazing Pu’er tea in the clubhouse I perked up considerably when I saw several KTM 450 motocross bikes, and was about to accept the offer to take one for a ride, when like a kid in a sweet shop, I saw an even nicer KTM RC8 racer and so I took this 1200cc super bike for a spin around the block dressed in typical Chinese style…flip-flops and shorts. Had I come off the smile would probably have been permanently affixed to my ashen face, but as it was the smile lasted for several hours after I returned and as I blathered on incessantly to Fanny about tyres, suspension, scribble and nonsense.

I don’t want people to think I am unnecessarily reckless, but up until a few months ago and for several of the years prior to that I though my time on Planet Earth was up. Hence living my last days to the full and doing things that I always wanted to do etc.. However, after a rather stressful and convoluted recovery (that I have no intention of sharing) I am, no doubt to some people’s annoyance, going to be here a bit longer. So it means I now have to stress over something completely different, getting on with life and finding a bloody job again. Not sure how this explains riding around on a super bike in China without a helmet, but I am sure there is some hidden meaning in there somewhere.

In addition to Fanny writing various articles, applying for various jobs and organizing the whole of the China leg of the expedition she also has the difficult task of getting me, a 老外， into Tibet. At the moment no foreigners at all are allowed into Xizang (Tibet). The 18th Chinese National Congress is currently being held there and there continue to be some ethnic disturbances that the Chinese do not want the outside interfering with. China is very sensitive about foreign interference with their internal affairs. However, we have a cunning plan and all will be revealed in the next chapter of this diary. Will I see zhumulandmafeng (珠穆朗玛峰）or will I be left at Chengdu zoo throwing live chickens into the tiger enclosure? We’ll see.

Chapter 20 – 中国 Part 3

http://bigbiketrip.net/2012/09/14/%E...%9B%BD-part-3/

Photos with comments only

Chapter 21 – 西藏 Tibet

http://bigbiketrip.net/2012/09/27/ti...5%BF%E8%97%8F/

At time of writing, September 2012, the People’s Republic of China were restricting access to Tibet (西藏) to Chinese citizens only. The only exception being that a “Tibet Travel Permit” might be granted to a tour group of at least four foreigners, provided they all come from the same country and that their itinerary is organized and strictly supervised by an approved Chinese travel agency. Such tours will only run until the end of September 2012 and are extremely expensive as the approved travel agencies, and no doubt the authorities, are seriously cashing in on these restrictive policies.

So, how could we ride into Tibet on motorcycles? For Fanny? No problem. Unlike the rest of the world she can move freely about China with her Chinese 边防证。 As for me? I could exploit a very slim loop hole in the current policy as I am a permanent Hong Kong resident and hold a Hong Kong Special Administrative Region Identity card.

The reality is of course that the Chinese consider anyone, not ethnically Chinese, a “foreigner” and so using my Hong Kong ID holder status was at very best, “tenuous” and would mean I would have to be “lucky” and apply considerable wit and charm to pass through the multitude of road blocks and security check points to get from one side of Tibet to the other. Skills I know I can apply very competently…when I am in the mood.

So we left the province of Yunnan on our Chinese made and registered motorcycles and entered the truly spectacular province of Tibet. A region that averages 4,900 meters in altitude and shares the highest point on Earth, Mount Everest ( 珠穆朗玛峰), with the Kingdom of Nepal.

I am reluctant to get involved in the political debate about Tibet, any more than Hilary Clinton, William Hague, or any other country’s foreign ministers and business leaders are going to. China is the new big kid on block and now calls the shots in the new world order. It is fiercely patriotic and defensive about what it calls domestic issues and sovereignty issues concerning Xinjiang, Xizang (Tibet), Taiwan, Diao Yu Dao and Xi Sha Qun Dao are not for discussion… especially by foreigners.

A couple of people have posted comments and criticized us for going to Tibet. To me their “Free Tibet” shibboleth resonates with as much seriousness and commitment as a bumper sticker that says ” My other car’s a Ferrari”. However, in fairness I would say to anyone who really does take the plight of Tibetans seriously that there is only one viable solution …don’t buy anything made in China. China relies on the world buying its cheaply manufactured products and a worldwide boycott would bring it to its knees and force negotiation. The reality is of course that none of us really cares or is committed enough to throw away our iPhones or get out of bed to make something for a few dollars a day. So, it looks like Tibet will continue to be colonized Han Chinese style just as the Americas, Australia, New Zealand and Africa were colonized European style…the indigenous people in their funny hats and beads reduced to quirky tourist attractions, provided they behave themselves.

What I will say from a personal point of view is, that despite the geographical splendour, fascinating culture, friendly people and some of the best adventure motorcycling I have ever experienced, my ride through Tibet made me extremely sad. Relatively speaking, I would probably have felt happier and more at ease had I ridden through Vichy France in 1943 singing “Hitler! .. he’s only got one …!”.

So, with that I’ll leave the rest of the politics to the diplomats and share the pictures of our ride through Tibet, which as the adage goes, paint a thousand words.

Chapter 22 – 中国 Part 4 – Qinghai

http://bigbiketrip.net/2012/10/23/%E...%9B%BD-part-4/

I have often studied maps of the world and been fascinated by Earth’s equivalent (if you like) of Jupiter’s Red Spot… Qinghai (青海） . It always looked like one of most remote parts of the planet and was definitely on my “bucket list” of places to see and ride a motorcycle.

We had been riding high up on the Tibetan Plateau, averaging 4,500 meters for many days. The days were pleasantly warm and sunny with the occasional sudden rain storm, but the nights were extremely cold, especially in our tent. We had acclimatized to the altitude but even so any exertion resulted in breathlessness accompanied by a thumping headache. In future, I will definitely have to follow the medical advice of not drinking any alcohol whatsoever and instead drinking a liter of water a day for every thousand meters of altitude. But its unlikely.

As we continued north on the stunning G109 road towards the remote province of Qinghai we rode on tarmac roads that undulated like mini roller coasters on top of the unstable and jelly like permafrost. The snow capped mountains constantly reminded us of how high up we were as our road crisscrossed and weaved parallel to the Beijing to Lhasa railway. An amazing bit of engineering, but seemingly out of place in such remoteness. There were small security stations posted every 5 or so kilometers along the side of the railway manned by guards with perhaps the most boring job in the world, although with arguably one of the best views.

We rode for hundreds of kilometers, and rarely saw any other vehicles except for Chinese military convoys, a few local Tibetans on small motorcycles and the occasional Chinese tourists exploring the area in 4×4 SUVs. As we rode high up in the mountains the weather changed quickly and we found it difficult to avoid the rain and occasional snow that swept across the plateau.

As we had done previously on our expedition we would usually start looking for a place to camp or stay a hour or so before the sun started going down, but the very few settlements we passed looked really run down and uninviting, no hotels or hostels and nowhere dry or secure to pitch our tent and so we continued going north.

We were told there was a small town we could stay at in the foothills of a snow capped mountain with an impressive glacier, and when we got there the scenery was indeed spectacular, but there was no town, just an ugly looking mining complex that looked out of place and rather sinister among the beautiful surroundings and so as the sun was going down we decided to continue going north towards Ge’ermu (Golmud) another 150 kilometers away, thus breaking the golden rule of adventure motorcycling …not riding in the dark.

Ge’ermu is a military town that was built by a Chinese army general just after 1949 and is now the third largest town on the Tibetan Plateau behind Lhasa and Xining.

The general’s expeditionary force had crossed the wilds of Qinghai and Gansu by camel train looking for a strategic location to build a garrison that could supply the Chinese military presence in Xinjiang and Tibet.

Arriving in any new location in the middle of the night is always a bit disorientating and I was pleasantly surprised how warm the temperature was when we eventually descended into the valley and rode into the city center. Sixty years ago the region would have been incredibly remote and Ge’ermu would just have been a small village that enjoyed the milder climate of the valley and had year round access to water. Now it was like many new towns in China…. architecturally dull, dusty, crowded, polluted, and in the case of Ge’ermu full of military personnel, their vehicles, equipment and compounds. Also as far as I could tell I was the only foreigner in town, although not surprisingly given that Ge’ermu is extremely remote and well off the tourist trail. To the west of the city is “no man’s land”… and very few people ever venture into it.

Chapter 23 – 中国 Part 5 – Gansu

http://bigbiketrip.net/2012/10/28/%E...-gansu-part-5/

Fanny had done an excellent job setting an interesting route along the quiet “S” roads of south east Qinghai into Gansu, and so we had a chance to relax, enjoy the scenery and take a break from worrying about being wiped out by black Audi A4s and tourist coaches. However, we were in China and 1,340,000,000 people must be lurking about somewhere and inevitably we would find them –all of them I think–on the G213 around the epicenter of the 2008 earthquake in Wenchuan County, Sichuan. But until then we had some relatively enjoyable and peaceful riding to enjoy in Gansu, a province with a largely Muslim population that buffers Xinjiang and Qinghai from the rest of China and extends from Mongolia in the north to Sichuan in the South.

As long as you keep away from human habitation, the geography and scenery in China is en par with the best that Planet Earth has to offer. Sadly though, apart from God’s given natural environment there is very little left of any cultural or historical interest in the Middle Kingdom as Mr. Mao was considerably more successful than all the natural disasters in wiping out 5,000 years of remarkable human accomplishment and endeavour. With the exception of some of the first tier cities (like Hong Kong, Chengdu, Beijing and Shanghai), and the remote and small rural villages, any human habitation in China looks like an ugly grey concrete construction site, covered in dust and decay, surrounded by rubbish and pollution and accompanied by a cacophony of jack hammers and vehicle horns. Will it change? Perhaps, but not anytime soon as more than three quarters of a billion construction and factory workers need to be kept employed somehow otherwise the economy of China will collapse.

There are two big holidays in China, one is National Day in early October that celebrates the forming of the People’s Republic of China, and the other is Chinese Lunar New Year in January or February. Both are week long periods of public holiday that produce traffic jams that make roads in England on a Bank Holiday Monday look relatively tranquil and peaceful. In fact, Chinese New Year results in the largest migration of human beings anywhere on the planet and the National Day holidays are not much quieter.

Unlike the good old commie days when everyone piled onto public transport, China’s new middle class (now larger than the whole population of the United States) gets the car out, stuffs granny, grandpa and little ”tu tu” in the back, covers them in duvets, fills the remaining spaces with instant noodles and chickens feet in cellophane wrappers and heads for one of China’s “most glorious happy revolution number one tourist sites in world”, which could be anything from a rock that looks like a cock, a three foot dribble of water pouring into a decaying pool of human detritus and rubbish, or even the morbid fascination of an earthquake disaster zone.

There was also no escaping from the fact that most Chinese think cars are for rich people and motorcycles are for the poor. The fact that a BMW GS1200 Adventure will cost upwards of 50,000 US dollars in China is besides the point. Large motorcycles like Harley Davidson, BMW and Ducati do exist in China, but are rarer than pandas. Also, motorcycles are banned in most cities, are not allowed on the extensive network of highways and are fair game to be bullied at every opportunity and nudged off the road into the nearest ditch.

That said, motorcycles and bicycles are considered so low and unworthy that they are not expected to comply with any traffic laws or regulations whatsoever. I guess being a former motorcycle policeman I had a natural instinct to at least try and comply with the local laws, after all a motorbike and rider will always come off worse when T-boned by an overloaded truck, or indeed by anything on four wheels. However, after a few weeks in China I was riding like a true local, jumping red lights, riding on pavements, surfing the internet on my smart phone and weaving the wrong way down streets. The crazy thing is nobody cares, least of all traffic enforcement officers. All they care about is that you don’t ride on the highway and your don’t waste electricity by having your headlight on. We are definitely going to need re-educating before we start riding again in South Africa, or else we will both become adornments on the front of some Cape Town Mack trucks.

We continued riding southwards through Hezuo and across the high altitude grasslands towards a rather popular tourist town called Lang Mu Si at the border of Sichuan. Here there are temples and monasteries, rivers, mountains and amazing hiking routes where we actually saw some otters by a stream. However, what really makes Lang Mu Si famous is that it is one of the few places in China you can go and watch a “Sky Burial”.

I vaguely remember reading about Sky Burials in a National Geographic magazine, but it was not until my friend Andrea Corbett recently told me that when she pops her clogs she wants to be disposed off by “Sky Burial” that I gave it much thought. I am not sure the Derbyshire authorities allow bodies to be left on Kinder Scout and eaten by magpies and other birds that live in the Peak District, but on the Tibetan Plateau this is actually a common way for Buddhists to move on to where ever or what ever awaits them in the after life.

After looking around the muddy and rather disappointing town, Fanny and I decided to climb to the top of the mountain and investigate a bit more. I wish I hadn’t. I assumed that the recently deceased “grandpa” would be left on the mountain and the Tibetan vultures would fly down and in a mass of feathers and frenetic activity eat him up. The reality it turns out is much more gory.

I suppose I have had more exposure to grizzly sights than most people having been a policeman for many years, but I have never got used to it and I am actually more squeamish about blood and guts than most. Reluctantly, over the years I have pretty much witnessed everything that can be done to a human body. Hanging, burning, decapitation, being blown up, eaten by maggots, fallen from skyscrapers and on hitting the ground literally “gone pop”, being shot, drowned and all bloated up…. and I have attended more postmortems than I care to remember. It all comes with the job. When I was a young police constable in London, doing the school crossing patrol and babysitting the remains of human beings seemed to feature highly in my policeman’s lot.

Little did I know that the bodies of Sky Burials need to be prepared first, butchered if you like, so that the “eating” process is quick and efficient. The vultures, just like other animals, go for the best bits first, and once they are full leave body parts lying on the mountain side and so the bodies are filleted first so that the bones and marrow is fed to the vultures for the main course and then they can have the flesh and organs for pudding.

When we got to the peak the first disturbing thing we noticed, or heard, were Chinese tourist howling, screaming, shouting and generally messing about and I was a little surprised, but pleased when Fanny admonished them in no uncertain terms about not showing appropriate respect and desecrating a sacred site; the second was that a container full of various sharp instruments and axes caught my eye at the butchering point. It looked like they belonged to the Sun Yee On triad and 14 K triad who were getting tooled up to have a major turf battle; and lastly and more disturbingly there were body parts like jaws and rib cages lying about that smelt quite revolting.

Realizing that there was a strong likelihood of a reenactment of a serial killer disposing of his victims with Chinese made carpentry tools I looked at Fanny, and she looked back at me and we both scurried off down the mountain side as quick as we could. When we got back to Lang Mu Si we were immediately descended upon by a tourist tout who asked us if we’d like to see a Sky Burial. ”NO WAY” was the resolute answer.

Lang Mu Si is located in an amazingly beautiful location and I was absolutely delighted to have spotted an otter by a river which I pursued like a mad naturalist. However, unlike my hero David Attenborough, the critter got the better of me and I never saw it again. The town of Lang Mu Si itself is a real mess though. There was rubbish strewn about everywhere, sewage pouring into the canals and streams and the tourist touts were overwhelmingly annoying and rude. The road was a muddy mess and the local restaurants and shops were not up to much and looked rather sorry for themselves. I really hope the Chinese authorities recognized that it is a place of special cultural interest and natural beauty and give it the management and protection it needs. I would certainly like to go back and do some hiking in the mountains and find that otter and his friends, but only after the area has been protected and given the respect it deserves.

We did manage to get into one of the temples and have a wander about and make some offerings. There are two temple complexes, one on the Gansu side and another across the river in Sichuan. I had bought some beads in a village on the Tibetan Plateau to give to my daughter and a special forces friend and wanted to get them blessed by a Lama before I gave them to them, and that is what I did. The Lama was very friendly, took the beads, and took some time concentrating on chanting some prayers. I later found out that the prayers do not actually add “something” to the beads, but take away everything from the beads, including negativity, in a 佛家 “nothingness” sort of way. A bit complex to explain but I’m told “wuwei” equates to the sort of blessing a Christian priest may give. The temples were amazing to see, both inside and out, and we spent a long time looking around at the ornate decorations and Buddhist statues.

The next day we rode back through the mud of the main street and the few kilometer to the border into Sichuan, but not before Fanny was knocked off her bike by the impatient and rude driver of a Jeep 4×4 who failed to stop to see if she was OK. I rode after it, getting muddy myself, but the driver had absolutely no intention of stopping. He made a reckless escape, blaring his horn and dangerously trying to imitate a rally car hurtling through the muddy roads of the busy town center. Maddening, but what can you do? Fanny was unhurt, but of course completely covered in mud again. Absolutely no point getting madder than we were already, and I suppose the best thing to do was to put it down to experience and soldier on. Attempting to look on the bright side, it was raining again and we would soon be clean.

Next…..

Southwards towards Chengdu, the capital city of Sichuan province and famous for spicy food, street snacks, mad goings on in People’s Park and of course giant pandas. Apart from the breeding centers we were extremely unlikely to see a panda, but we might see a takin, a rare goat/ox creature that lives in the Sichuan mountains. From Chengdu we would start heading eastwards towards the largest city in the world, Chongqing where we would participate in the China International Motorcycle Show and Fanny would meet many of her fans and the motorcycling media. From there we would ride through the surprisingly beautiful countryside of rural Chongqing and into Hubei, a section of our journey that I had not expected to be particularly interesting, but which actually turned out to be an adventure and a half.

Chapter 24 – 中国 Part 6 – Sichuan

http://bigbiketrip.net/2012/11/01/%E...ichuan-part-6/

As hard as one tries, it would be impossible to ride around the world on a motorcycle and completely avoid any bad weather. We had heavy rain in the Basque Country and its border with France, and later in England and Wales where it pretty much rained throughout the whole of the summer. In China we had been lucky so far and enjoyed the best of the autumn weather, but now winter was well truly and on the way, at least high up on the Tibetan Plateau, and so we had to endure a few miserable days of grey skies, snow in the mountains, and blinding rain in the valleys. Like Wales, the scenery in Sichuan (四川）does make up for the rain somewhat, and between Langmusi（郎木寺）and Chengdu （成都）near the town of Songpan（松潘）we rode through some very impressive high altitude grasslands that stretched as far as the eye could see. This area is home to very hardy Tibetan herdsmen who tend to their livestock high up on the plateau on sturdy ponies, which also double up to take tourists on pony treks.

Further south towards Chengdu is Wenchuan County
(汶川), the epicenter of the 2008 earthquake. Like everyone else, I suppose, we had a morbid fascination to look at the carnage that mother nature can unleash and explore the surrounding mountains and lakes. However, as the weather and the traffic conditions had become increasingly bad we both just wanted to get out of our damp and soggy clothes and get to Chengdu as soon as possible.

The CF Moto bikes were going very well, nothing seemed to faze them and they just purred along eating up the miles on whatever roads and surfaces they were presented them with. The sheepie that I had bought in Yunnan to cushion my bottom, however, was no longer fluffy white, but rather a bedraggled shade of increasingly darker grey. At the beginning it smelt like sheepskins generally do, but a little later on in the trip had the delicate whiff of wet Labrador lying in front of the fireplace. More recently, I have to admit, the smell was more like wet Labrador that had died… quite some time ago. But it was still comfortable and a considerable improvement over the standard pile inducing seat fitted as standard and when traveling at speed did not attract too many flies. It was, however, pushing Fanny’s tolerance and general good humour a little too far and I noticed she was no longer referring to my beloved furry seat pad as “sheepie”, but as “IT”, as in, ‘You’re not bringing “IT” inside, are you?’. Women can be cruel.

Anyway, we were expected to show an appearance at the China International Motorcycle Exhibition in Chongqing in about a weeks time and so if we made good progress to Chengdu we would have plenty of time to relax and explore one of China’s more prosperous and attractive cities and try out the famous hot and spicy Sichuan food.

Chapter 25 – 中国 Part 7 – Chongqing

http://bigbiketrip.net/2012/12/05/%E...g-qing-part-7/

Having been unceremoniously thrown off the Chengdu-Chongqing highway by the local rozzers we were faced with at least a days ride to Chongqing along indirect and badly maintained triple digit “G” and “S” roads (i.e. the really really bad ones). Unfortunately, my GPS had completely given up trying to calculate where we were, let alone set a route to where we wanted to go. It was confused, no doubt by the rapid pace of road construction and deconstruction in this part of the world, and so like all electronic devices when you really need them, had decided to go into “freeze” mode. No amount of shouting and cursing was going to change its mind. There were many road signs showing the characters 重庆 (Chongqing), but apparently there was no consensus of opinion and they indicated going left, right, back, forward and even up. I couldn’t even tell which was east or west as the sun was hidden behind the smoggy haze that often envelops much of China. So we stopped to ask for directions. My carefully constructed questions were met with shrugs, blank stares, embarrassed grins, pointing in all directions, and occasionally dashes for freedom. Annoyed that my years of Chinese study had come to nothing I asked Fanny to take over the local interrogation, but I soon realized when I heard her doing a Chris Rock like “DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE WORDS THAT ARE COMING OUT MY MOUTH” that she was getting nowhere either. So we did what all couple’s do when they are completely lost on a road trip. Blame each other.

Our brief, but noisy exchange in the middle of a concrete purgatory drew a bit of a crowd, but did little to help our situation other than blow off a bit of steam. I remembered I had my Casio watch, that up until now I had only used as an altimeter, and so I used the compass function to set a vaguely south east course. I had studied and become quite good at navigation when I did my Royal Yacht Association Ocean Skippers sailing course some years back in South Africa, but navigation requires a compass AND an accurate map or chart. We only had a map of the whole of China and a freebie tourist map, neither of which were good enough and so I pointed in a south east direction and declared in Maggie Thatcher style, ‘We go that way and we are not for turning’.

We followed a route that can best be described as “urban off roading”. Ignoring signs, ignoring traffic signals and heading along whatever surfaces aimed in a generally south east direction. The route took us through scruffy towns and construction sites and occasionally along roads that were still being built. There were often concrete bollards or barriers placed at the entrances and exits to these stretches of virgin concrete and tarmac, but these were no obstacle to two wheels and clearly the local bicycles and scooters had already found some convenient short cuts and so we followed them too. Surprisingly, nobody attempted to stop us and I was actually beginning to quite enjoying this little bit of adventure riding. Our CF Moto 650 TR motorcycles are technically touring bikes that are in their element cruising along smooth roads, but they seemed perfectly able to tackle the ramps, holes, mud and gravel that we encountered and so we weaved over and through whatever obstacles lay ahead of us. A bit dangerous in places as the flyovers under construction would occasionally come to an abrupt stop, leaving a high precipice which would definitely be a bad idea to fly off.

As they first said in China, and still do in other parts of the world ”All roads lead to Rome” and in this case all the roads went through Chongqing first. Somehow or another by riding along unfinished roads we had managed to get onto a national highway without passing through any of the tolls. Also, my GPS came back to life, showing that we had only 35 kilometers to ride into the center of the city. Phew! However, my euphoria was short lived as I saw a tunnel ahead of us and at the entrance were about twenty police and highways officials directing the heavy traffic into various lanes. I knew they would attempt to stop us, but the traffic had come to a halt and that gave me a chance to covertly weave through the stationary cars and trucks and avoid most of them. One official in a hi-viz jacket caught sight of me and bravely lunged in front of me and so I slowed down, punched my arm in the air and shouted ‘Chelsea’. I couldn’t think of anything better to do, but it worked and as he reared backwards in surprise, I rode around him and entered the tunnel and escaped.

Ha ha! Oh! …..Fanny?. I was hoping she would follow my lead, but as I checked my mirrors there was no sign of her. Maybe she had shouted “Arsenal”. Nobody likes the “Gooners” in China and I had to agree that would be cause enough to lock her up. There was no sign of her as I rode through the entire five kilometers of the busy highway tunnel and as I exited in the outskirts of Chongqing I was immediately faced with a dilemma. The highway divided. Four lanes going left and four going right and so I stopped, a bit precariously, right up against the central concrete divider with traffic hurtling both sides of me and waited, and waited and waited. Unlike throughout most of the expedition I actually had a charged up mobile phone, with a local SIM card inside, and there was a strong signal and so I called her, but there was no reply.Tamade! I had made a stupid mistake because I did not know where we were going to stay that evening as Fanny dealt with all those sort of thing in China. I guessed it was probably near the Chongqing International Exhibition Center, but I didn’t really know where I was going and I couldn’t leave Fanny lost in one of the biggest cities in the world. What if she really had been detained or had had an accident?

I was starting to get anxious when I saw the headlights of Fanny’s bike emerge from the heavily congested tunnel and she pulled up behind me as traffic whizzed by either side of us. I asked what happened and she said the police stopped her, but she explained that she was with the “lao wai” on the bike ahead and must follow otherwise we would get really lost. ’In the end they just let me go’, she explained, but continued, ‘What did you shout? They thought you were mad’.

After programming the GPS with the location of the hotel that the Chunfeng Motodelegation had booked us into near the exhibition center we cruised alongChongqing’s city highways down to the formidable Yangtze River and crossed one of the many outrageously enormous bridges than spans it into the commercial heart of the city where we eventually found our hotel. After settling in, there was only one thing to do. Have some hotpot (火锅), the quintessentially Chongqing dish.

There are restaurants everywhere from small “da pai dang“, palatial “fan dian” to fast food stall, including not only local Chinese snacks, but western fast food chains like the ubiquitous “mai dan lao” (McDonalds) and “ken de ji” (KFC). Also, in the early mornings and evenings thousands of middle aged and elderly women fill the public spaces and practice synchronized “line dancing” or “tai ji quan” to a cacophony of music ranging from traditional Chinese folk, Canto pop, Western classical, trance anthems, bass and drum and hip hop. It is extremely popular throughout China. Sometimes hundreds of couples practice ball room dancing in the streets as well. At the risk of making sweeping generalizations, I think I can very safely say Chinese people love food and love noise.

I too love Chinese food, but increasingly as I get older I hate noise and if I can will avoid crowds like the plague. I had to admit I was hoping to get the next few days inChongqing over and done with, but the reason we were in Chongqing was to meet our kind sponsors and participate in the China International Motorcycle Exhibition. I knew it was a showcase for the Chinese motorcycle industry and would be a far cry from the bike shows in London or Italy. There would be no KTMs, nor the latest European or Japanese speed machines on display, but I like motorbikes of all shapes and sizes, even if they are all 125cc. Fanny was very excited though, not least because she would meet her friends from CF Moto and many of her growing fan club. Quite rightly many Chinese are proud of her motorcycling achievements and she was looking forward to the attention. She is a woman after all. So, I put on my happy face and got stuck in.

We had three days at the Chongqing China International Motorcycle Show and we both enjoyed ourselves in the end. But, clearly starting to show the signs of becoming a rather fat and prosperous looking, it was time for me to stop wining and dining and for us to get going again. As motorcycles are banned, not only in Chongqing, but on all the highways in Chongqing and Sichuan, Fanny had been in discussions with many experienced bikers about the best possible route out of Chongqing towardsYichang in Hubei province. It was decided we would leave very early in the morning to escape the traffic and get onto the G50 highway, as many large bike riders from the east of China were planning to do, and had done in the past with success. If we could get out of Chongqing and into Hubei we would be OK as motorcycles are allowed on highways in Hubei province, and indeed later in Anhui.

We got out of Chongqing City quite quickly as it was early and rode through the toll of the G 50 highway without too much hassle from the officials, but after 20 minutes of riding along the highway I saw some officials in hi-viz jackets run into the carriageway and wave their arms about. I slowed down, but easily rode passed them. I then looked at my mirror expecting Fanny to do the same and was absolutely astonished and shocked to see one of the officials pick up a two foot high traffic cone and throw it with force at Fanny’s bike, causing her to come off and skid on her side with bike on top of her for several meters.

I screeched to a halt in the middle of the three lane highway, U-turned and rode back to her. I couldn’t really hear what the officials were saying as I ran up to Fanny, but I saw she was crying and had clearly hurt herself. Her bike looked damaged, but not too seriously. I picked Fanny up and checked her out and she seemed more shocked than injured ( a few bad bruises as it turned out) and then I saw the official who threw the cone. He immediately put on a show of bravado, but he was clearly nervous as he suddenly realized I was a foreigner and extremely angry. I charged up to him like a raging bull, and really considered thumping him, but controlled myself. I was desperately thinking of what to say in Chinese and all that came out of my mouth was a rather lame and pathetic admonishment. In the heat of the moment my Mandarin let me down and all I could think of calling him was a “bad egg“.

Inspectors had to learn Cantonese, and of course the first thing we learnt were all the swear words (of which there are many good ones that are frequently used). This was followed by chat up phrases so we could attempt (and always fail) to impress the local talent. My Mandarin, however, was learnt at Tsinghua University in Beijing, one of China’s top academic institutions, and although I can chat almost fluently about magical phoenix(s) in mysterious forests and use impressive “cheng yu” (idioms) that nobody really needs, my “ma ren de hua” (cursing ability) is extremely poor. My “How do you say?” requests to become more acquainted with China’s more colourful and fruity expressions have always been met with embarrassed chuckles from my teachers and Chinese friends. Fanny is no help either as I rarely hear her say anything impolite. In fact, mainland Chinese are much more polite and cultured than the southerners or Hongkongers and so there is a big void in my Putonghua street credibility. Perhaps its a good thing. Of course it is.

So, having used up all the “egg” terms I could think of I reverted to tried, trusted and universally understood Anglo Saxon, took some pictures of the offending officials and got Fanny back on her bike as quickly as possible before anyone else turned up. I know all too well in China that things can escalate quickly as indignation rises and face is lost. Fanny’s bike was damaged on one side, as bikes with plastic fairing tend to be after a crash, but it seemed 100% roadworthy and so we made our escape as the officials got onto their mobile phones to plan their alibis and excuses.

I remember years ago in Hong Kong getting stopped on my motorcycle at a police roadblock. I had done nothing wrong but I guess they needed to make up their numbers and in Hong Kong a police officer in uniform needs no justification to stop anyone. Strangely, and very unfairly they had waved on a Mercedes Benz luxury car that had dangerously cut me up and stopped me instead. I remember it vividly because it was on the very same day my son had been officially diagnosed with autism and so I had “gone off” on my bike to collect my thoughts and reflect on the lack of prospects that lay ahead for us all. Of course I was not in a particularly happy mood and unwisely remonstrated against the police officers’ surly behaviour and unfair actions towards me. This was a very bad idea as at the time I was also a police officer, more senior in rank, and a 鬼佬 (‘foreign devil’) to boot. So, in order to protect themselves from a potential complaint from me they embellished a damaging story against me instead, and to cut a sad and long story short I ended up getting disciplined for conduct unbecoming an officer and was thrown to the dogs. Life is unfair sometimes, but the lesson learnt was that the police, not just in China or Hong Kong, are not shy in making something up to protect their necks, and as a foreigner or outsider one is always in a much weaker and vulnerable position. As hard as it is, the best course of action is to avoid confrontation, swallow your pride and turn on your tail, regardless of the provocation.

As we rode away along the rather deserted highway I suspected that this was not going to be the end of matters and I was right. At the next toll we rode through the gap in the barrier, as all motorbikes do, and a group of about twenty uniformed traffic police ran frantically up to me and surrounded my bike, much like pit crews do when a Formula One racing car pulls into the pits. Clearly they were waiting for us, but Fanny was not in a good mood and she explained in no uncertain terms what happened earlier, but the traffic police seemed uninterested and completely unconcerned. To them, riding a motorcycle on a highway was a much more heinous offence than deliberately causing a road traffic accident and injury. Initially I though Fanny would be able to explain the seriousness of the incident and we would be allowed to carry on, but that was not to be. We both got a first hand lesson about the lawlessness of officials in Chongqing.

Despite being on the road for nearly 18 months, we had both heard the recent stories about organised crime in Chongqing and about the scandal of Bo Xilai and his wife who had murdered a British businessman. Clearly this unethical tone at the top had permeated throughout all of the public sector in Chongqing and government officials and the police alike were unaccountable for whatever their actions might be. I was resigned to just getting off the highway and escaping these fools, but Fanny was very very angry and quite rightly so. Someone had tried to seriously injure her and it could have been very serious indeed. After an hour of arguing the toss, our fate was clear. No action would be taken against the officials whose reckless behaviour could have killed Fanny, and we were being kicked off yet another Chinese highway in the middle of no where.

I had regained my composure and while Fanny was alternating between crying and arguing I had structured a little speech that I gave to the most senior officer in as calm and articulate manner as I could. I told him about the accomplishments of Fanny–a fellow Chinese citizen, a woman and a proud ambassador for China throughout the world, and that a Chinese law enforcement officer had deliberately tried to injure her. Not only had she been injured, but her motorcycle had been damaged, she had lost serious face and the actions of the officer were reprehensible. It was quite a speech, grammar a bit dodgy in places, but it hit the spot and the officer literally rocked and recoiled on his feet. He made an attempt by telephone to persuade more senior officers to allow us to continue, but alas it was not to be and so we were escorted off the highway literally onto a sand track in the middle of very rural Chongqing.

I think at this stage both Fanny and I were hoping we could get the trip over and done with. I assumed the most interesting riding in China was behind us and all we had ahead was a slog of 2000 kilometers plus eastwards to Shanghai. Riding on the highways, unlike motorcycling in other parts of the world, is actually quite enjoyable as the route passes smoothly through valleys and mountains and you have time to take in the view as you cruise along. Riding off the highways was a battle of survival against appalling traffic and road conditions. In my mind Chongqing province was just another sprawling conurbation of concrete and chaos. How wrong I was.

The stress of the previous few hours was starting to fade, and although technically we were still lost I think both of us could not care less. We rode along a sand track for a while until it stopped and became farmer’s field and went no further. Like many roads in rural China it was no longer used as the highways now took the bulk of the traffic. I looked at the only maps we had of the area, one a freebie tourist one that Fanny used, but was pretty useless for navigation, and the other showed the whole of China that only reminded us we were right in the middle. I looked at the GPS and it showed a red line of the highway we had been turfed off and nothing else at all except the mighty Yangtze River and its tributaries meandering all over the place. I surveyed the land around us we were surrounded by green fields, small thatched farm houses, small streams, rice terraces, and quite steep mountain slopes which were covered in mist. It looked like one of those Chinese paintings of idyllic rural landscapes and I think we both accepted that our China adventure was far from over.

Our meandering around the villages of rural Chongqing was very pleasant, but we seemed to be making no progress at all and so I made a concerted effort to try and work out where we were by asking the locals. For some bizarre reason I was having more success asking directions than Fanny. I think foreigners who speak Chinese as a second language can guess the meaning of people who speak with strong regional dialects better than say a native speaker from elsewhere in China. I knew Fanny was having trouble with the Sichuan and Chongqing dialects, as opposed to me who was having trouble with all of them. Anyway, we decided to adopt a “get from village to village approach” and get to the border with Hubei even if it meant traveling in the opposite direction to get around the mountains ranges. It might take three days rather than three hours but we were OK with that. We had accepted that against our original plan we were now exploring a part of China very few people will ever go to. It doesn’t really feature as a tourist attraction, despite being infinitely more interesting, beautiful and tranquil than the so called official tourist destinations.

We rode through many beautiful villages and some how or another were gradually making tracks in an easterly direction. We took each village as it came and asked for directions to the next passing over mountain and through valleys and paddy fields. We were aiming for Fengdu where we planned to spend the night. It is located on the banks of the Yangtze River and in China is known for its “Ghost Culture“, hence its called China’s Ghost City. Fanny found a pretty good hotel and after a good spicy catfish hotpot we went for a walk along the banks of the river and saw many of the locals dancing the evening away in the public squares.

The ride through eastern Chongqing was awesome. Fate had forced us off the highway and into a part of China that it seems few people venture into…because of the efficient highway system I suppose. We thoroughly recommend anyone wanting to experience an unspoiled trip back into the rural China of old to visit.

Next…….

…. a bizarre and enjoyable encountered with the Hubei traffic police, a long long night of riding in the dark and rain, the Three Gorges Dam project, idyllic rural Anhui, my first puncture, and arriving back in Fanny’s hometown of Shanghai and the end of our big bike trip (for now).

Chapter 26 – 中国 Part 8 – Hubei, Anhui and onwards to Shanghai

http://bigbiketrip.net/2012/12/06/ou...8%8A%E6%B5%B7/

The point at which we actually crossed from Chongqing into Hubei province was high up in the beautiful misty mountains of Huangshui (Yellow Water) National Park. We had thought of staying there for the night, but it was late autumn, getting quite cold and the locals told us that all the bingguan and hotel owners had locked up and gone back to the city until the season starts again in the Spring. It was a shame because it was a very picturesque and peaceful place, probably because all the tourists had left. We therefore planned to push on towards Yichang where the Three Gorges Dam project is located on the Yangtze River.

But in order to make any form of progress we needed to get onto the G50 highway and head east. Whilst we were banned from using national highways in Sichuan and Chongqing provinces, motorcycles were allegedly tolerated on highways in Hubei and Anhui provinces. Why the difference? Who knows?

We were both quite tired after a long day of riding in the mountains and thought that when we reached the toll booth of the highway we could ride straight through, but no… the officials stopped us. I was not entirely sure what was going on, but after a good fifteen minutes of Fanny arguing the toss the entire shift of officials just walked away towards their administration building and I looked towards Fanny and she shouted, ‘GO’ and so we rode passed the barriers and onto the highway just as the sun was setting. I later asked Fanny what it was all about and she explained that the toll booth officials had not encountered bikes like ours before, and so to save themselves from making any decision or lose of face, they just turned a blind eye, knowing we would either ride onto the highway or turn around and go away.

All was going well, but we soon came alongside a highway patrol car and I faced the dilemma all vehicles have. Do we hang back or over take them and risk being stoppped for speeding or whatever. They did not seem to be taking any notice of us, but after five or ten minutes the officers in the car directed us to pull over. Here we go again I thought. For reasons I can only put down to fatigue, Fanny decided that she was going to pretend she could not speak any Chinese and so I was left to chat with the officers. ‘Is there any problem, Officer?’ I asked, ‘I thought it was OK for us to ride on the highway in Hubei’.

‘Oh, it is OK’, replied the officer,’ but we are closing the highway because of a big traffic accident up ahead and you must leave the highway at this exit’.

As I unnecessarily translated what was going on to Fanny she put her head in her hands and I thought she was going to weep. ‘We are not leaving this highway’, she insisted.

I asked the officer if we could either wait or ride carefully past the accident. After a lot of discussions over their police radios they said we could wait, but told me it would be about 2-3 hours before the road would open again.

I did not think it was a good idea and tried to reason with Fanny, ‘I think we should get off the highway now, its late, let’s find a place to stay or even camp by side of road and get going in morning’, I suggested, ‘Riding on motorways in the dark AND in the rain is not a good idea… we’re tired and its been a long day’.

‘I WANT TO CARRY ON’, Fanny demanded.

So we waited.

Fanny sat by the side of the road, chain smoking and keeping out of the way of the officers, and I was left to chat with the police in Mandarin for several hours. A very daft situation and it got even more ridiculous when more and more police officers arrived in an assortment of police vehicles and insisted on taking pictures with us. I knew Fanny had been posting our motorcycle adventure on the very popular Chinese online forum called http://www.weibo.com and had recently posted the account of the traffic cone throwing incident (described in previous chapter) and it had gone viral resulting in hundreds of thousands of comments and responses. I knew Fanny was becoming somewhat of a celebrity in China, but did these police really know who she was? If they did, they were not letting on. None of it made sense to me.

We were asked for our documents and as usual when stopped by the police I showed them my UK passport, the motorcycle registration documents, our insurance policies and my Chinese driving licence. Of course Fanny also had all the legal documents for China, but she just pulled out her Hong Kong driving licence and gave them a “that’s all you’re getting” look. I was surprised that they seemed quite satisfied with the Hong Kong driving licence as it is not valid for China, being technically a foreign one. I was even more surprised that the police never asked for her passport or Chinese ID card which would have confirmed she is actually Shanghanese.

I continued chatting with various officers, and they continued taking pictures of us posing with their cars as we all waited in the dark and rain on an empty highway in western Hubei. Something was definitely going on, but to this day I have no idea.

After waiting on the highway for a few hours a very small and slightly built senior ranking police officer arrived in a command car, and after more posing for photographs gave me a serious briefing…… ‘Maximum speed 100 kph, keep right, keep lights on, and drive carefully.’

You can’t argue with that, and so I thanked and shook the hands of at least ten police officers and then we rode off in the pitch dark with cameras flashing behind us, seemingly the only vehicles on the highway. At 8.30pm we passed under a sign indicating that we had 380 kilometers to ride to Yichang and that meant a good four hours of riding in the dark and rain. We had already ridden over 500 kilometers that day and I braced myself for some iron butt riding.

We rode through about fifty tunnels and probably across an equal number of bridges. Some I knew were spectacular and civil engineering wonders, but because of the rain and darkness I could see nothing. It was slightly stressful because I was worried about Fanny, but she was doing perfectly well and when we stopped off for petrol she said she was actually enjoying herself. I really couldn’t think why.

I did, and still do to this day, regret not waiting until the morning to ride to Yichang. Apart from giving Fanny the experience of riding in the dark on a motorway, there was little to recommend taking the risk of riding in the dark and missing out on some of China’s most spectacular gorges and river systems. In this particular area hundreds of towns and villages have been submerged by rising waters due to the dam, and millions of people have been relocated. This is almost unimaginable in any country other than China where, rightly or wrongly, things get done and done quickly.

We were not really in a rush and without being able to see much had ridden through the mountains and over the spectacular valleys of the Three Gorges. I am lucky enough to have hiked in this area four years previously when I was studying Mandarin in Beijing and it was before the waters had started to significantly rise. It is a very beautiful part of China. At that time the Three Gorges Dam project had not been completed and so this time we made a plan to go on a day tour to visit one of the engineering wonders of the world and at least see what all the fuss is about.

We arrived in the heart of Yichang at about midnight. It had been one hell of a ride and we had ridden close to 900 kilometers since we set off fifteen hours earlier. I can safely say I did not enjoy riding on the highway in the dark, but I was happy we had made progress and that Fanny had cheered up. On arrival in yet another huge Chinese city we were gratefully met by a member of Yichang’s BMW motorcycle club who had been patiently waiting for us and he escorted us on his GS1200 Adventure to a tourist hotel. Given the choice I would prefer to camp and save money, but camping is not easy in large cities, it was late… and it was raining.

For those of you who have never been on a Chinese guided tour it is a definite “must do” on life’s bucket list. It is an experience if nothing else and gives one an idea of what the average Chinese person has to put up with if they want to do anything vaguely touristy or do any travelling. Independent travel is growing very quickly in China, especially among the new generation of upwardly mobile, but for the average person the organised guided tour is the only affordable and practicable way to visit their own country or travel abroad.

So what’s it like? Well the day starts by getting picked up at a designated location by one of the thousands of tourist buses and after finding a seat (or not) don’t be surprised if the person sitting next to you immediately settles down to sleep and closes the curtains obscuring the view you paid to see, nor if they repeatedly empty the contents of their lungs to the sound track of a demented cappuccino machine and deposit the green blob on the floor between your feet. It is imperative that you bring your MP3 to drown out the cacophony of deafening white noise and a high decibel monologue of memorized propaganda given by a small woman hiding behind a microphone. This is your tour guide and do not under any circumstances ask her any questions unless its involves asking where to buy extortionately priced plastic replicas of whatever you thought you were going to see, or some gelatinous food substance made out of animal hooves or innards on a stick.

You will all be given a brightly coloured hat with Chinese characters on the front, an assortment of passes, tickets, receipts and coupons that you must place in a plastic envelope attached to a brightly coloured ribbon around your neck and must have prominently displayed at all times whilst queuing, which you’ll spend most of your time doing. You only need to understand three Chinese phrases —-”On the bus”, “Off the bus”, and “quickly”.

Completely ignore any reference to the word “laowai” (old foreigner) as they are talking about you and not to you. Whilst off the bus the tour guide will tool herself up with a portable white noise machine and a radio aerial with a coloured flag on the top which she will wave above her head whilst shouting “On the bus, Off the bus” etc. Another golden rule is never ever under any circumstances talk the driver… you will recognise the driver because he is attached to an old coffee jar with tea leaves and flower petals floating inside and honks the horn all the time.

And so Fanny and I voluntarily, and with full knowledge of what we were letting ourselves into, set off on our “glorious revolutionary number one tour” to the Three Gorges Dam. We found our seats in the cheap section and had hardly been on the bus five minutes before a huge fight broke out between a middle aged women and our tour guide. I couldn’t catch what it was all about, but apparently the tour guide had seriously insulted the lady by suggesting she was a “tourist” when in fact she was a “local” from Hubei. Such a terrible and unforgivable mistake was cause enough for the lady from Hubei to shout and scream throughout the entire journey. The tour guide, however, was unfazed by all this commotion and simply turned up the volume on the white noise machine to maximum and carried on regurgitating her rote learned tourist guide babble without drawing breath.

I actually quite enjoyed the dam visit. Joking aside its an amazing engineering feat and although our actual tour guide was a bit lacking in technical knowledge and didn’t really have anything interesting to say, I managed to sidle up to an English speaking guide with another tour group who had probably paid a lot more for their tour than us, and the guide really knew his electric turbines from his kilowatt hours. Not only have I become an avid bird spotter in my later life, but a civil engineering nerd of note.

After visiting the dam, the construction museum and of course several tourist shops belonging to the driver’s uncle, we headed back to Yichang where we went for a stroll along the Yangtze River and watched the locals swimming next to the “No Swimming” sign. Some of them had attached themselves to buoys and were floating off down the immense river. Not sure why as we never saw them again.

The next day we were escorted out of the city by the BMW riders’ club members, and just as we were leaving the city I got a puncture in my back tyre. The first and only on the trip in China. Unlike the KTM 990 Adventure, repairing a tubeless tyre on the CF Moto is extremely easy and just requires pulling out the nail, or whatever, and pushing through and plugging the hole with a strip of gooey rubber. It took me less than 5 minutes and off we went again. The new KTM 1190 Adventure is being launched in 2013 and among many new updates on our 990 Adventures, including being 50% more powerful, is fitted with tubeless tyres. Its definitely the way to go as anyone who has had to repair a puncture on a tubed motorcycle tyre will agree (see Austria, Egypt and Tanzania chapters).

We rode all through the day, covered more than 700 kilometers and just as the sun was setting decided to pull off the highway at a lake in Anhui province called Huating. A really beautiful place where we managed to find a very cheap and pleasant room above a restaurant with a view over the lake. Again, we were not in a big rush and so we decided to stay there for a couple of days and explore the area, before carrying on towards Shanghai.

Fanny and I stayed in Shanghai for two months where both of us were very busy catching up with the lives we had left behind. Fanny’s family live in Shanghai and they were very proud of her achievements and extremely pleased to see her back safe and well. Whilst Fanny had many things to attend to, including preparing for her bar exams and negotiating the new job she will start in the new year, I went back to language school to brush up my business Mandarin and get fit again in the gym and shed some of the kilograms I put on in Europe. In actual fact, I lost 7 kilograms, was back to my middle distant running form, fighting fit and looking forward to getting back to work myself, surprisingly.

We continued writing for our magazines, started on “the book” and wrote some technical reviews of the motorcycles we had ridden. We attended presentations about our trip, gave interviews, and swapped our biking kit for dinner jackets and party dresses to attend some of Shanghai’s social events.

As the beautiful autumn sunshine in Shanghai turned to a decidedly chilly winter, we headed back to our starting point of Cape Town where we were reunited with our trusty KTMs. Bikers, and especially adventure bikers like us, become very attached to our seemingly inanimate two wheeled friends. We were both very excited and delighted to see them again. Fanny, me and our bikes had been through a lot together and seen the world as few will ever see it. Adjusting back to so called normal life is quite difficult and for me a bit depressing, especially in winter, so we cheated the cold and gloom by simply changing hemispheres.

Whilst relaxing in South Africa and watching television one day we made the mistake of switching over to the UK’s Sky News channel (which is to journalism what King Herod is to babysitting) and managed to catch up with what was going on in the rest of the world. World economy? …still 乱七八糟.

Syria and middle east? …still fighting.

Terrorists? … still blowing people up.

Britain? ….still raining.

And America? …. nutters running amok and shooting up small children with “second amendment” assault rifles.

Same old same old. Enough of that. Click.

‘Let’s go out for a ride’

will add photos later as that is a mammoth task...

place-holder 9