Dispatch From Beijing

Reflections

Sitting in an Airbus at 36,500 ft reflecting on the beginning of our adventure, seems a good place to start. Dick is asleep, head slumped forward in a post-brunch slumber. The posturing is over, now we must stand up and be counted...ride the ride. There have been hurdles, there have personnel changes and an enforced last minute drop-out. We've had serious financial challenges as first China then Mongolia required us to pay for guides to look after us while we transit. Our guide for China comes from something like 7,000 kms away from Beijing where he meets with us. He will also meet with us again for our second entry into China from Krygystan in 7 weeks time. The Mongolian, follows us 2,000 kms across the Gobi Desert then drives home again. These were challenges that we reluctantly overcame by digging deeper into our wallets. The euphoria of our going away party and the triumphant, successful crating up of the bikes, was tempered by learning that the bikes were being delayed a day so and would only just reach Beijing before us. This just meant that our advance party in Beijing (Steve) would have more time sightseeing, But wait...there's more. Not a Ginzu steak knife but another challenge...the airlines rejected our bikes and on Saturday night upon arrival in Auckland we were soon uncrating them and removing the tanks and carbs. On a generally not amusing night, It amused us to see the crate addressed simply to Des Molloy, Beijing. There had been at least six emails trying to sort out an address and somewhere along the way they must have given up. Late in the evening we left the removed bits on top of the crate (fingers crossed that our freight man came back for them) and brother-in-law Warren took us off home for a late-night snack and a few...very few hours sleep. 4.30 saw us having our first coffee of the day and Warren soon had us back at the airport and on the big silver bird. Two years of planning are behind...the die cast, the warmth of our closest's hugs and kisses fading. Will we get our bikes back? Will we find Steve...or our guide...or Geoff (a loyal supporter)...will my threatening cold lay me low?

And just to give you a laugh...I left my Visa Card at home...hell I remembered the Arnica, the homeopathic "rescue remedy", the lip balm, the maintenance tools for the Primus, Dick, spare plugs, points, the Rover piston, the tent, the balaclava, the Aids Certificate (don't ask), bandages for Africa, the book about first aid...I even remembered the maps. So I left one small piece of plastic behind.

Beijing is only 10 hours away...time for 8,000 games of solitaire on the palm computer.

Our Classic Motorcycles - a Norton & a Panther in the Crate

Another few thoughts from Beijing

The city is big...very very big. It bustles with life, laughter and a cachophony of sound. The word was invented for Beijing. It almost never stops. For me the highlights are too numerous to chronicle so I'll just try and portray a little of our stay here. We have been staying in a hotel for Chinese nationals, which has been just ideal with always someone exotic to observe. Until last night the temperature had only fluctuated between 23.9 and 26.9 degrees C. Last night it rained and the temperature dropped.

Steve has been a treasure, slipping into a clear leadership role. The three months he spent traveling in Nepal and Indo-China show in the confidence and competence he displays. He was also particularly nurturing and caring when I wasn't well with coughing asthma/chest infection/cold. Our experiences here have been very sensory with meals in raucous market cafes that stimulate every olfactory tissue, we've endured numerous crazy taxi rides, we've walked the streets and we've tasted the diesel fumes close-up with a day out on bicycles. The tales and memories from that day are many and memorable. Scary? Well... Steve has worked as cycle courier so is a known road-warrior. Dick hadn't ridden a self-powered two-wheeler for 40 years but "hey...how hard can it be?" With Beijing's 15 million people, 2 million cars, 65,000 taxis and God knows how many buses, all wanting to go to Tienamen Square at the same time as us, it made for a memorable come-back...but should we surprised when the man still races his Manx Norton shoulder to shoulder at 200 kms an hour just like any other youthful 72 year old. There were many duels with the various four-wheelers who challenged for the same road space. A totally stimulating day made even more challenging by the fact the bikes had no real brakes that could be discerned.

Steve eating sparrows while Des has glazed fruit to purge the taste of snake

Some respite from the craziness was found in the tiny lanes off the main roads. These Hutong are a labyrinth of dirt lanes between walled, courtyarded traditional dwellings. Too small for a car, we struggled to pass a rickshaw at one stage. The narrowest is reputedly only 400 mm wide. Seeing the real Beijing close-up has been great and we often catch each other just sitting...usually in a bar...just grinning. It is just so dream-like. The local beer is amazingly cheap and damn nice, It is refreshing to drink from big 680 mm glass bottles. Our cheapest meal was at an Islamic (kebabs etc) place not far from the hotel that with the 3 beers and 3 very replete lads...US$3.00.

Frustrating as it has been to just be waiting for our trusty steeds to arrive, there have been some very funny moments, not the least being our driver's licence medical inspection. Wang, our guide (once we're on the road) took us to a suburban hospital and in the grounds was a small bunker-like building with two nurses and a more senior looking gentleman. Dick was up first for an eye test. Initially he thought all the characters were Chinese so couldn't say where he could read to, The symbols were rotated versions of a capital E so all you had to do was show whether the tongs of the E were up, down, to the left etc. This had the old fella absolutely confused and us rolling about with laughter. Wang would say "up?", so Dick would try to describe the symbol above...then at one stage he got up and said he could read 5 lines down, which showed letters about 75 mm high...I'm thinking...this can't be true, he'll need a white stick. This is all done with a spoon held over one eye. Finally after a lot of hilarity he was led over to the boss-man who did the paper stamping and Dick was asked to look at two pictures and describe what was there. These were a bit like the hidden object kids books. I couldn't believe it when he says he can see the number 52 and a horse. For me the number was a clear 89 but also a horse. This might have been a colour-blindness test but our permits were both stamped, although I suspect that Dick's might have been notated "Imbecile".

We've seen an acrobatic troupe, we've walked dozens of kilometers, Dick and I have been temporarily "geographically displaced" once and I did misplace the other two at The Forbidden City. All in all...things are going OK but the bikes are now not going to be with us until Fri. 6th May having left Wellington on the 26th April. Don't tell the hygiene police...but our clothes are in the box with the bikes. Dick and I have what we wore on the plane to come to China...and it seems all the incompetence is in New Zealand.

Dick with our new batteries outside bike shop