Once upon a time life was good. Nothing to worry about, every night golden dishes, containing fried meats and fresh vegetables, several stars welcoming you to yet another luxurious hotel room. Pure joy, doing exactly as you likes. Feel like having a snack? Sure, go ahead. Paying a round of beer? No problem, liquor is sold by the kilo. Found something nice? Yours to buy. But does times are gone, memories from a far away past, those days in which the grass was still green and the clouds where blue. Or maybe...
We take a leap into time, and head back about two months. The first of august 2006. The day on which my trip celebrated it's one year anniversary, and I would say goodbye for a second time. A great week with Nancy and Tine, and even Qingqing the rabbit had found itself a new idol.
This time however, I wasn't supposed to leave alone. With Linda right next to me in the saddle (http://www.bangkok-beijingbybike.org/) I headed East once more. In rough conditions but with plenty of luck. China was being fried by a heat wave, for weeks the mercury hadn't gone under the 40 Celsius line in Chongquin province, but just like in some sort of miracle we managed to zig-zag our way through the country, not being bothered to much by any of it.
It was still warm though, and besides that there was another problem. The fact that the area around us is quite dirty. Or, actually, extremely dirty. We ride east of Xian, and head into a massive coal mining area. Dark skys, gray buildings, filthy trucks that spit out their poison, and every day a nice black layer covering our skins within a single hour. Too bad Sinterklaas (a Dutch traditional saint, read more on him on http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sinterklaas) isn't arriving just yet, otherwise, adding a little red lipstick, the both of us could have applied for a position as one of his helpers.
However, going to extremes often holds its own rewards. After over a week of coughing we are allowed a quick peak of the Longmen caves. Fabulous stone statues of Sidharta and his friends, lesser deities and hewn out Buddha tapestries with flowers.
Besides that, time in China is running out. I don't feel like hurrying though, and prefer to enjoy the once more visible nature around me, singing Dutch songs and ridiculous chit-chat, while at the same time Linda concentrates all her efforts on turning me into a gentleman (I sincerely hope for both her and the rest of the world she has been successful). \
So, I decide to head off to the local police station, to get my visum extended. Problems at the first one, and even worse in the next city, but more luck the third time, and if I let go of the second entry to China which my current visum allows me too (rather not), I can stay in the country for yet another month. Not a great option, but the best one I can get.
The road winds on to the famous temples of Shaolin, home of Kung Fu. More resemblances to a military training base than to a Buddhist monastery, but nonetheless quite impressive, especially the demonstrations of the various styles there are to practise this sport. A little minus is the outrageous entree fee though, to which several additions will be made might you also want to see the more special places around the complex. For once the smell of money has become stinky again.
Along some small Kung Fu schools, filled by dedicatedly (but still happily waving) training local kids, we ride an extreme leg, all the way down to Kaifeng. First a little smoggy, but at some crossroad weather changes, and the sky opens up to a clearing. Finally some blue again, a little easier to breath, and riding along apple trees and cornfields. If they would install a couple of water sprinklers here, I would at times swear to be riding around in the Dutch province of Flevoland.
Kaifeng is great. Quite a relaxing town, a lot of water, a multitude of parks and quite an impressive city center. Houses are still made out of wood, an authentic Chinese atmosphere, and not too much steel, mirroring glass and aluminium (which you would normally find in every other place in China). Good food at the night market, and an easy breakfast of spicy pancakes filled with fried eggs. Big question however is, how long all this will stay to exist in its current form.
Buddhist make place for Taoists, because we have entered the lands of Confucius. Confusing? Not really. The descendants of the great Chinese thinker poses a estate that covers most of the center of the town of Qofu, and as long as you honor your parents and respect your leaders, you will be alright. Then, if you also manage to climb mount Tai Shan, you can live to be a hundred with it.
So that's what we do. Early in the morning we head off for a self-applied torture which will take us over 6000 steps. At times the walk up is easy, just like a stroll in the park, but most of the time extremely hard, due to small steps and high lifts. Within two hours I haul myself all the way up. Linda takes a little longer, and I change into a living waterfall. Everything I wear is completely soaked in sweat, not really surprising after a endeavour like this, wearing a long pair of trousers while walking in the hot summer sun.
The first thing you say on top of the mountain is said to have a magical meaning. To perpetuate through the ages of time. Speakt out thou wisdom and let it be known to the world! For days we spend our time mesmerizing on what to say, however, fate decided otherwise.
Due to a badly timed move while taking a picture, I empty out most of my already finishing water bottle. Shit! And so it happened, my worldly wisdom that I was supposed to shout out from the heights of Tai Shan... Linda did slightly better, a friendly smile and an always happy sounding "Ni hao!".
Yet another small mountain and then we arrive to the Far East-polder. Or Overijsel? Or, well, I am not really sure what exactly, but it really makes me remind on the way it looks back home. I recently wrote there is no such place in the world that will resemble the Netherlands, but maybe I am wrong on that. Flat like a pancake, at times a nicely flowing river, wide and slow, tired of its long run through the country.
Due to a small mistake when looking for accommodation, we almost end up spending the night in some sort of love hotel (or was it a regular sauna after all?), been to many strange places, but this just pushes the limit. Another place, luxurious and with beautiful girls dressed up in red (a habit I can appreciate quite well), and on to Qindao. A big celebration there, as an important international sailing event is being held, but quiet at the same time, as for some reason they manage quite well to keep the competing athletes out of the city center.
The German roots of the city are easy to recognise; it has been ages ago since I saw an actual church, a statue of Maria guarding the door and confused Chinese; Je-su, ooh wait, wasn't that the Holy Man of the Europeans? Celebrated Tsingtao beer is sold as draught and comes in a plastic bag at 30 cents a kilo. Cheers!
However, all things come to an end. The roads that have been bonding Linda and me foor several weeks already, will diverse here. I head off to Korea, while she keeps on exploring the lands of Mansourija, about to reach her final destination of Beijing. Which means I'll be riding off alone again. No more company or pointless discussions. On which Dutch sportsmen should make up the new government for example. We traveled together for close to a month, and had a great time. Thanks Linda, and good luck on the road to Beijing!
Entering boat and harbor, pushing and pulling in front of the terminal, and an approach by bus, as cycling isn't allowed. Nice boat, relaxing bed, and even a plastic cherry-tree to improve the atmosphere. A prosperous trip to Korea, and about to experience a massive culture shock.
That same night I end up in some bar in Seoul together with Dawn (Hile Couch Surfing!) and her friends. A little farewell party. For me, I am all confused though. Stores selling everything I haven't been able to eat for months, Starbucks and MacDonalds on every corner of the street, beer in one-pint glasses in a European-style bar with back-home music, and more white faces gathered together in one single space than I have seen in ages.
Then there are the price tags. Everything for sale here is easily over ten times as expensive in neighbouring country China. Makes you wonder on the value of money. Why should one pay two dollars for a meal that will cost a mere 20 cents just a couple of hundred kilometers away? Same ingredients, same quality, but still ten times more expensive. A watermelon changes hands for an extravagant sum of 15 dollars, half a loaf of white bread will set you back an euro. But at the same time the watermelon doens't care if it was cultivated in either China or Korea, same melon, different price. Then at the same time the realisation that once I start being a physician I will be able to earn 4000 euro a month, in other words, it will take me one month to earn the same amount of money as is needed for a single year of travel. I am lost.
Specialized Korea offers me a pair of cycling gloves for a nicely reduced price, and surrounded with a huge crowd of mountain bikers, all fitted into the latest high-tech cycling clothes, I set off into the Korean inlands.
Pure joy, that's the word. I can breath again, the air is clean, the trees green, forests and happy murmuring streams streaming though endless hills. Just the things you would always be looking for when transversing Belgium and France, you will find here. Every night again a nice little rocky patch and murmuring water. And it just keeps on going.
Beautiful pre-fall landscapes and cramping hands in Odeasan National Park, and along the East Sea down to the south. Korea has been crossed. A trip to the island of Ulleung-do unfortunately turns out to be unaffordable, so I decided to spend my time in other ways. A Japanese guy teaches me how to find budget accommodations and introduces me to the world of Jim-jil-bang, or, the Korean sauna.
At first it seems sort of weird, some men asking me spend a night in the sauna with him, but he turns out to be ok, and I decided to join him. A great sauna, and even better considering the fact that I hadn't been able to give myself a decent wash for the last couple of days. Taking a shower, then a bath, a sauna, sweating, relaxing, and then off to the sleeping compartments. Finally awaken again? Time for another sauna session, and light headed back onto the saddle.
Drying squid on a small rope along the road, enjoying kimsi salad (really spicy stuff, but delicous!)m gimbab (rice and fish in a roll of seaweed), dried fish-flakes, and of course a very European peanut-butter sandwich. Once you know your way around Korea isn't all that bad' sleeping in your tent or some sauna, very tasty food, and a daily hour of web surfing is added in for free.
In Gyeongju I manage to talk myself into a hostel for a ridiculously low price, and find myself to be surrounded by a nice group of travelers. Chilling out for a couple of days, lots of talking and exploring the scenery around the village (amazing Sila stuff) together.
In Busan another warm welcome with Couch Surfer Eric (a true hero), that provides me with everything I might possibly need. A place to crash, lots of fun, pizza, beer, soju and karaoke,
And then it is time for yet another naval adventure. Three days of continues floating to reach Hokkaido, the northernmost island of Japan, the country of machines. The adventures and challenges I will meet there, I'll be telling you in a couple of weeks time.
