Hong Kong to Guilin

Day 1: Hong Kong to Zhaoqing – 64km

Waiting at the end of the lane with our bags and panniers, the taxi arrived at 6-30 on the dot. We loaded up, said a fond farewell to Phil and sped off into Kowloon. The process at the ferry terminal was easy.

Dropped off in the underground car park we wheeled our bikes into the lift and up into the terminal concourse. It is bright, airy and modern with check in desks similar to an airport. We checked in and had time for a coffee at Starbucks – all very civilised. Then it was through the gate and passport control and then, after a short wait, onto the boat. The bikes were secured on the rear deck, as we all took our seats in the sealed cabin.

We were quickly across the bay of the Pearl River Mouth and heading up the Xi Jiang river, its banks lined with factories, quarries and other heavy industrial operations. It was not a pretty route and with little to see we both dozed to the hum of the engine while listening to our Michael Thomas easy Mandarin tape.

Alighting at the port of Gaoming in Guandong province, the immigration and customs formalities were as slick as those at Hong Kong. Many passengers had their bags checked through scanner machines, but we were just were just waved through. After a quick assessment of what side of the road to ride on (right), we cycled off to the town centre. Its square tenement blocks, shuttered shops and wide multi lane streets were, as we would find, typical of the modern and soulless part of most Chinese cities. Our first stop was to purchase a China Mobile Sim card for our phone. China Mobil is the biggest Telecom provider in China and is rolling out 3G in most areas. A SIM card was just 45 Yen = GBP5, and seemed to last a long time even when using Google maps etc.

As it was now already lunch time we decide to stop for a traditional Chinese lunch – a McDonald's Burger – well it would probably be the last chance for some western comfort food.

We negotiated our way out of the town on the main road, direction Zhaoqing. The whole route was very industrial, with lots of horrible chemical smells. Buses and lorries belching thick diesel smoke deafened us with their air horns as they raced past. They stop for no-one or thing. Woe betide you if you get in their way. We kept going until we reached the Xi Jian river again to catch the small vehicle ferry across the river. It consisted of a floating platform for the passengers and vehicles and was pulled across the fast flowing river by a tug. Halfway across we were on an obvious collision course with a river freighter and it seemed like the same rules apply to shipping as on the roads – who is going to give in first? Eventually the ferry stopped its engines and the ship crossed in front of us. On the other side, the ride along the riverside promenade into the town was sedate compared to the last three hours.

Our room at the Stars Business Hotel, was very comfortable, being more like a suite. It was brand new and cost Yuan 260, about GBP27. For dinner, we went to the next door restaurant and had a traditional Cantonese style broth cooked over a heater in the centre of the table. Raw ingredients were brought, beef, something that looked like “lites” and pok choy. It was all tossed into the pot and we ate a tasty and hearty meal with rice.

Day 2: Zhaoqing to De Cheng – 100km

We had the best night's sleep since we had arrived in Hong Kong. Was it the riding, just a need for sleep or are we getting over the jet lag? Either way we slept sound until 8-30.

Just over the road we had breakfast at one of the basic roadside joints. It consisted of steamed rice pancakes with a small amount of minced pork folded in. With a bit of soy and spicy sauce they were remarkably tasty.

We passed by the old city walls and negotiated the roadworks through the town.

Getting out of the busy town was a challenge taking nearly two hours of tortuous cycling in heavy traffic and only assisted by mostly Chinese signage. We were really thankful for our GPS. Along the way we stopped at the open park area at the side of the lake to watch a very impressive water fountain show in time to Chinese opera music. 

As it was a national holiday, the whole place had a relaxed atmosphere; a real contrast to the hustle and bustle of the city traffic.

The road out of town was built up for miles and each section seemed to specialise in something different, just as we had found in Malaysia and Thailand. One section sold all motor bikes, while another sold all ceramic tiles and sanitary ware. Yet another sold everything reconditioned machinery; kilometre after kilometre of second hand fork lift trucks, road making equipment, machine tools with smaller workshops making steel doors, kitchen furniture and a whole host of other recycled goods. This is certainly not a throw away society – not yet anyway.

The road ran along the valley gouged out by the mighty Xi Jiang river, bounded by pine covered hillsides. The road was only slightly less busy, as it continued as a dual carriageway all the way to our destination. At one point the river narrowed as it passed through a wide gorge. A new railway is being constructed and an impressive bridge was being built across it.

At Lubuzhen we stopped for “lunch”. At least that's what it was called. We chose two things off the menu, both of which had the symbol associated with 'meat'. One turned out to be some sort of “intestines”. The other, we think was something like cow heel. It consisted of chunks of gristle and hard cartilage like substance that wasted more calories chewing it than we gained from eating it. Both of us usually scoff at people that say “this food is sh**”, but this really was quite awful. We ate most of the former, but hardly touched the latter. The sauce was lovely though and the rice filled us up. (Always look for the positive). The price GBP5!

After lunch the road was quieter with less traffic, but the lorries and buses constantly blare their horns to encourage all lesser mortals to get out of their way as they overtake at great speed. We have decided that there cannot be any equivalent of the Highway code in China. Nobody abides by any traffic rules, overtaking, undertaking, driving straight onto roundabouts, never looking when joining a main road from a side road. We have yet to see a learner driver so can't believe there is a driving test. In one town we passed through this afternoon there had just been an RTA between a heavy lorry and a smaller van which had tried to cut across the road in front of it. Despite an impressive array of debris strewn over a wide area there didn't seem to be any blood and gore.

We passed through several toll booths today. There is a bicycle lane at the side so no toll to pay. At one there was a police checkpoint but they just waved us through, smiling and waving as we passed. At 57kms we arrived in a town called Yuecheng and hoped to stop there but there was no hotel. A young local lad took several photos of us on his mobile, telling Steve he was “handsome” and Karen she was “beautiful”. Very short sighted obviously.

There was now another 43km to cover to the next large town and only 2 hours of daylight left. Setting off with surprising energy we motored along at about 22kph for the next hour. Karen was draughting Steve and didn't see a heavy chunk of concrete on the hard shoulder. Her front wheel hit and she was thrown off, luckily towards the ditch. She was fortunate not to have hit one of the concrete posts along the kerbside, but she did come down with a bang on the kerb, grazing her forearm and knee. Looks like a third cracked rib as well.  The bike took a hit too. Its handlebars were twisted round, the bar end had broken off and we couldn't tell if the forks had been bent. It took about 20 mins to make it rideable again. It would take a bit longer for Karen's body and pride to heal. Despite the accident, she was lucky it could have been a lot worse and we both rode on in silence pondering what could have been and if that decision to leave the helmets at home was a bad one.

It was just getting dusk as we rode into Dechen and booked into the first hotel we saw, the Guanglin, just on the outskirts of the town. Again a good class of hotel with a fabulous bathroom and two double beds for GBP 26 a night.

We walked into town for something to eat, choosing a popular roadside place with the usual plastic tables and greasy tablecloths. The food was amazing, tasty, good quality and loads of it. Suddenly we love Chinese food again. The beer was good too and dulled the pain in the legs and the ribs.

Day 3: De Cheng to Wuzhou – 78km

The room rate included breakfast so it was fun walking round the buffet table lifting up all the lids on the food warmers to suss out what the Chinese eat for breakfast. There was flat noodles with chillies, dim sum, little frankfurter sausages, hard boiled eggs and some cabbage soup as well as a selection of completely tasteless and revolting sweet jelly things.

The route continued along the dual carriageway up the Xi Jiang river valley. There was even less traffic and the surroundings were more rural with only occasional factories.Everywhere there were the neatly groomed patches of garden where the local families grow vegetables for their own use and to sell at the local markets. in contrast to the chaos of the urban areas, these are all neatly laid out, weeded and well tended.

For lunch we turned off the main road into a small town and went into the first cafe. Learning from the mistake of the day before we pointed to the food that the man on the next table was eating and asked for two portions of that. The family who owned the cafe were very interested in us and their daughter spoke a little English. They were all was fascinated by our map of China with English place names. Our two plates of rice, pork and greens with as much tea as we could drink was GBP 1-20.

The road here runs along the side of the still massive river. It is a very important transport route with large freight boats plying up and down. In the past there were lots of passenger ferries but as more and more bridges are constructed there are only a few left.

Here, we crossed the provincial border into Guangxi.

Coming into Wozhou it was difficult to identify where the town centre was. After a fruitless journey through narrow busy streets following a 'hotel' sign to a place that was closed down, we headed over the river. The street was lined with residential blocks but no hotels. We stopped to try to decide where to go next and a local woman spoke to us. She could understand a little English but couldn't explain how to find the hotel so she walked with us, about 1km, to show us where to go.

The Xin Lu Ye Hotel was not quite the standard of those that we had stayed in the last 2 nights but was clean and had a good size room with hot shower for GBP 12. As in many of the hotels in China, the rooms could be booked by the hour. The many chargeable extras available in the room included 2 condoms and a vibrator and before you ask, no we didn't partake. - We were way too tired for any “how's your father”.

Near the hotel we explored a traditional Chinese street market where most of the vendors sat on the floor with their goods laid out on sheets. There were vegetables, pork ribs, whole steamed chickens, terrapins, eels, goldfish, honey in the comb and all manner of seeds and dried fruits. One of the women had a bucket of fat live frogs and was cutting them open and removing their innards as they kicked and struggled vigorously. The children looked on, fascinated.

That night we dined in the very popular restaurant next door to the hotel. It was one of those places that has a paper menu with a long list of all the food available and you tick off what you want. Luckily there was also a picture menu so we chose a few dishes and had a very good meal.

Day Off: Wuzhou

It never stopped raining all night and was still pouring when we got up. The weather forecast was for lots more rain so as we had a 100km day planned we decided to stay another night and hope for better weather the next day. Going back into the same restaurant for breakfast caused some consternation among the staff. One young lad drew the short straw but was actually very helpful and helped us order a variety of things including pancakes and some delicious egg custard tarts.

The most important thing to do today was to top-up our phone credit. We didn't expect it to be a problem as there were lots of China Mobile shops close to the hotel. In the first, the assistant couldn't understand what we wanted. She sent us down to another shop further along the road. They sent us across the road but still there was no way we could get across what we were after.   In desperation we went down the road to a music shop, hoping to find an English speaker. The young female assistant was a piano music student at the local college, spoke good English and took us to a shop to buy a top-up card.

Day 4: Wuzhou to Taiping

Feeling rested and energetic we set off across Wuzhou to find our route out of town, stopping on the way to get money at an ATM. One of the counter girls came out with her phone to take a photo of the bikes. We rode along a busy 4 lane highway looking for the way to our chosen exit road. All the signs since entering Guangxi were only in Chinese, but again the GPS came in handy. We took our turning and the road lead through a building area and into a 2 lane road with a rough, pot holed surface which seemed to be deserted. The road began to climb steeply then dropped down the other side to go under the new motorway, which had no traffic on it, but bikes are not allowed.

There followed another steep long climb to about 200m. For the first time since arriving in Hong Kong the sky was clear and the sun hot so we could try out our new wide-brimmed hats. They worked very well staying on our heads and the brims not blowing up. The only other traffic on the road were small motorbikes which are also banned from the motorway. At the top of the hill we stopped to take a photo and a convoy of small vans with two stroke engines passed us, laden with bricks. As we set off again the convoy was parked up as one of the engines had broken down.

The road continued through the hills, climbing and descending repeatedly. This was the first serious hill climbing we had done since Malaysia, over four months ago so it was hard work. We also discovered that Steve hadn't 'toed-in' the new brake blocks enough, so every time we put on our brakes they squealed terribly. At lunchtime we stopped at a small cafe in Lingjiang. Asking for 'chicken', they produced a whole steamed chicken, chopped up into bits with sharp bones.

In the afternoon we pressed on along the quiet scenic road. At about 55km it started to climb again right up to about 420m. What with the heat and the aching legs it seemed like the roof of the World. As we descended into the next valley our nasal senses were struck by the pungent smell of aniseed. All around the town of Gulong star anise were lay drying in the sun, occasionally being turned by the local workers.

The Illicium Verum tree is grown extensively around here and the aniseed smell pervaded the whole town as we rode through. Everyone we passed was friendly and smiling and most of the young adults and children shouted “hello”.

Another climb took us to the next valley, this time with water-melons as its main crop. There were lorries laden with them heading to Wuzhou.

Taiping is a frantic, noisy, scruffy town with loads of half finished buildings and piles of sand and gravel blocking the pavements. The motorbikes, lorries, bikes and trucks don't seem to be bound by any traffic rules but just seem to manage to avoid hitting each other. After a long hard day of riding it was 6.30pm. It was getting dark and we couldn't find a hotel. A woman directed us up a side road which was all but blocked with lorries laden with watermelons. At the end there were about six hotels, all lit with bright coloured flashing neon lights. We booked into the most modern looking one and got a room with a mattress that felt as though it was made of concrete and stank of cigarettes. But it was modern and clean.

Later we walked back into the town for a meal and to try to buy some suntan lotion after forgetting to get some in Hong Kong. We showed the shop assistant the word in the phrase book and she produced a pot of moisturiser made from sheep’s placenta!

Day 5: Taiping to Menshang – 85km

With stiff legs and aching glutes we set off for another long ride to the next town that we were sure would have accommodation. Just out of town we saw our first “butcher's” shop, well more of stall really. He was selling real pieces of pork, like chops, not just the chewy bits. It was also a food place, so we ate breakfast there; noodles!

The road started to climb over the bluffs along the river. It was hot and hard riding, with one punishing hill after another. We had to keep popping peanuts and drinking copious amounts of water.

In one of the towns we met two Chinese touring cyclists about our age who were traveling from Beijing to Bangkok. They looked very weather worn.

The road ran along the side of the river, which by now was slow, but much cleaner with many barrages and small hydroelectric stations along the way and high pine covered slopes at its sides.

There were lots of lorries carrying white stone, piled high into pyramids so that it would be impossible to stack one more rock without the whole lot spilling onto the road. Amazingly it seemed to stay in place despite the twists and turns of the road. This overloading is normal for all types of transport, lorries, motorbikes and people. Motorbikes are loaded with huge wicker baskets, loads of six feet or wider carried across the back. Women stagger down the road with huge piles of firewood or baskets of produce, carried in the traditional way in two baskets on a pole over their shoulders.

The other notable thing about Chinese roads is the complete lack of road kill. Could it be that anything killed on the road is put to good use in the local cooking pots? So far in this area of China we have not seen any historic buildings. Everything seems to have been built in the last 30 years and is mostly plain utilitarian blocks with no soul. In the countryside there are a few farm building made of mud bricks but these are rapidly crumbling and falling down and are being replaced.

Menshang has a more easy going atmosphere than Taiping. It was slightly tidier and had a more cosmopolitan feel. We found another good, reasonably priced hotel with the same liberal promotion of safe “relationships”. We struggled to find a good restaurant and ate in a roadside cafe. It was OK.

Day 6: Menshang to Moon Hill Village – 84km

Our bodies did not want to drag themselves out of bed today. Two months of sedentary life style followed by 6 days of cycling was taking its toll. We both lay awake thinking we should get up earlier, but didn't. On the way out we ate breakfast in Menshang. The ride today was a lot flatter than the previous two days. There was quite a bit of gentle down hill but it was much hotter. Even at 10-00am it was well into the high twenties.

As we were approaching a main transport hub, the roads were getting busier again with many more heavy lorries.

Leaving  Mengshang the road rose gradually over  8km  to about 200m. It was then downhill and onto the flat. Dropping down into the next valley we were surrounded by spiky karst mountains which in the haze looked as though they were in another world.

By lunchtime we were on the outskirts of Lipu (aka Licheng), the source of the quarried stone that we had seen being transported. The town was in the process of replacing its sewerage system so everywhere was more chaotic than usual. After a quick lunch we pushed on to Moon Hill which was mostly downhill.

Stopping to buy a drink in Maling, Chew McTavish wearing a tartan kilt, mending shoes at the side of the road. The surrounding shop owners and locals were hugely amused.

As we rode along we passed women making incense sticks, threshing soya beans and drying persimmons.

The Yangshou Village Inn at Moon Hill Village was recommended in Lonely Planet and the room rates quite a bit more expensive than we have been paying so far. But the relief of arriving somewhere where everyone, guests and staff, could speak English and had an Italian restaurant was immense. It is also a peaceful place (in contrast to Yangshou which we have been told is a backpacking party town) with fabulous views to Moon Hill, a karst hill with a large hole through its centre.

Days Off: Moon Hill Village

The plan was to spend two nights here so that we could explore the surrounding area on our bikes but overnight Karen got a nasty dose of travellers diarrhoea so we had to book in for another night and Karen spent the day in bed.  It gave Steve a chance to catch up on the blog and look for ways to access FB and blogger.

The following day was warm and dry and after having breakfast on the patio we set off on our unloaded bikes to explore the Yulong River. The helpful receptionist at the hotel gave us a free 'Tourist Map' but like most tourist literature it was pretty useless. A few hundred meters along the main road a shortcut took us along a narrow lane through a couple of villages and to the lower bridge across the river. Lots of bamboo rafts were coming downstream each carrying two passengers.

This little fella was happy wallowing in the river rather than crossing it.

On the other side of the river we picked up the narrow but smooth concrete road which runs up the north side. Eventually this road ends at the river. The only option here is to either head downstream on a raft or get a raft ferry to the other side. We gave the little raft lady our 20 Y fare and she shouldered Karen's bike and nipped nimbly over about six other moored rafts to get to the outermost one. Steve was somewhat less agile as he tried to traverse the rocking and rolling rafts carrying his bike. Karen, with no load, fared even worse and was only rescued from certain dunking by the little lady who grabbed her and plonked her into the seat.

It only took about two punts of the bamboo pole to get the raft to the other side and a slightly less taxing disembarking. The road on this side was even quieter and took us through a couple of villages with a combination of old traditional houses and many new ones in the process of being built.

At the next bridge we went back over to the north bank and were immediately pounced upon by a local lady on a bike. She attached herself to us as our unofficial 'guide' with the intention of persuading us to take a bamboo raft ride down the river. Despite our protestations that we were not interested she doggedly pursued us. An attempt to unload her onto another group of hapless tourists failed.As we reached Dragon bridge, one of the most famous landmarks on the Yulong River, she was still following us then.

On the road we met another couple of touring cyclists, Phillipp and Valeska, from Austria. They are hardened veterans of World cycle touring having spent the last five years working a tour leaders in Norway during the summer and traveling on their bikes during the winter. We spent the next couple of hours cycling with them, hearing about their travels in Africa, India and the Americas.

The Yulong Valley is an outstandingly beautiful area of China. It is a very popular destination for both foreign and Chinese tourists. It is saved from being completely ruined by promoting the concept of hiring bikes to cycle up the river and returning downstream on a raft. This means that the narrow lanes have little traffic on them other than bicycles and the vans which transport the bicycles back to base and the rafts, having no engines, gently and silently glide downstream.

The still, reflective river Yulong meanders slowly along the flat valley floor through orchards, paddy fields and pastures surrounded by massive towering karst pinnacles. The high humidity gives a misty, slightly out of focus view which enhances the beauty.

We rode back along the south side pf the valley along a narrow footpath along paddy fields, a bit muddy and rough in places. The biggest threat here were the large parties of young Chinese tourists riding hired bikes and tandems who had little control of their vehicles on the rough ground. We stopped to let them pass.

The plan for the next day was to cycle along the Li River to Yangshou but overnight Steve fell foul of the bug and we had to stay at Moon hill for yet another night so that he could have a day in bed.

Day 7: Moon Hill Village to Yangshou – 55km

The morning dawned bright and sunny. Steve was still a bit jaded. Karen decided that rather than just cycle 9km up the busy main road to Yangshou we could go across country to the Li river valley and follow that north to Yangshou. That would sort Steve out.

With only the previous day's 'tourist map' to work from and the hotel receptionist's warning of “they've built a new road” but not the expertise of English to explain how this would affect us, we set off.

The first section was easy along a narrow unsurfaced lane through the typical Yangshou countryside. We eventually came in sight of the new motorway. There was a choice of either going under it through a small underpass or forking left towards a little village. We took the left fork and the next 5kms rode along a single width track through little villages, around fields and orchards, weaving between the karst rocks and crossing under the motorway a couple of times.

The path ended at a smooth concrete road which again took a circuitous route through the fields and fish ponds, resulting in us loosing all sense of direction. The sat nav didn't help much because here in SW China there is quite a significant south west offset. At last there was a T junction with a signpost (in Chinese of course) and by some miracle the symbols matched those of the village we were trying to get to.

After a bit of a climb and a long downhill we arrived at Puyi, formally an end of the road village on the banks of the River Li. No more though because they have just replaced the bamboo raft ferry with a brand new concrete bridge. The bridge is complete but the road has yet to be surfaced, with huge mounds of gravel and sand and mud. As we watched, a small three wheeled scooter type van drove over and tilted so alarmingly from side to side that we were sure it would overturn. The stalwart Chinese driver knew what he was doing and arrived safely.

We rode through the old village on the narrow 'main street' . There were typical Chinese shop houses lining both sides with fold back wooden doors at street level and small balconies above. As we rode past we caught glimpses of life through the open doors. Small shops selling essentials, families dining, three old ladies playing cards and a carpenter working his wood.

On the river shore a family were mending their boat, using traditional methods and the woman had the job of sawing the wood planks.

It wasn't easy to find our route out of the village and Steve announced that there was no way he could ride back up the hill that we had just descended as his legs were too shaky. Then Karen spotted a narrow alleyway between two houses and an old lady in a field assured us we were on the right road.

Again it was a rough unsurfaced farm track winding through the hills, passing little hamlets with happy smiling people, strutting cockerels, ducklings sleeping in the shade and even friendly dogs. In one village it seemed like the whole male population were working together constructing a house. They were all so busy, mixing cement, laying bricks, moving gravel but happily chatting and laughing and greeting us.

Navigation wasn't always easy and we took a couple of wrong turns in the villages. The lane now had a smooth concrete surface and there were a few tourists cycling on rented bikes so we knew we were on the right road. Steve was very pale by now but there was only one bit of hill and suddenly we were into the melee of Yangshou. Buses full of tourists, the river packed with boats, touts at every turn trying to sell bike hire, pictures and boat trips. On the river the 'bamboo' rafts were instead made from lengths of blue water pipe.  It was all a bit of a shock after our peaceful day.

We had decided to try the River View Hotel recommended in the Lonely Planet but the tiny town map of Yangshou was too confusing to make sense of and it took us a full circuit of town to work out where we needed to go. Once we found it we got a room with a huge balcony overlooking the river.

Sitting out on the balcony we noticed a man on a recumbent bicycle on the pavement opposite. Steve had recovered enough by now to go out to chat and have a go on the imaginatively modified bike, complete with wing mirrors, umbrellas, headlight and boom box sound system.

Day 8: Yangshou to Wan Shou Gan – 83km

This was a real agony and ecstasy day. We planned to go to Guilin which, on the main road, was 66km distant but we had heard from Phillipp and Valeska that it was unpleasantly busy. The tourist map showed a road on the east side of the Li valley, going to Xingping. From there was a single line road, we assumed similar to the single line roads we had ridden yesterday, all the way to Guilin.

We left town on the busy S305 to Guanzhou, crossing the River Li on the Yangshou bridge. The river was peaceful and calm before the day's rush of tourists. At Fuli we turned onto a quieter road to Xingping. It was a very hot day with a cloudless blue sky. The road was flat and we made fast progress.It was Sunday and several locals passed us on motorbikes. We imagined they were going out to lunch taking their food contributions with them. One had a live chicken on the back and the passenger was holding onto it to stop it escaping. Another had a dead animal wrapped in a blanket. Judging from the legs sticking out it was a dog.

Xingping town lies on the banks of the River Li and in recent years has become a real tourist hotspot. As we rode into the outskirts of town a whole babel of Chinese women started running down the road towards us, all intent on getting the commission for selling us 'her' boat ticket. It takes a long time to get the message across that we don't want a ticket so they follow us down the road and more join them.

It seemed too early for lunch at 11.30 so we sat and had a cup of tea, watching large crowds of young Chinese tourists obediently following their tour guides who were carrying large pennant flags on long poles. Avoiding the tour sales ladies we returned along the road to the turning for Guilin. At Shu Jiabao there was a turning to the right signposted to the 'Lotus Flower Cave'. Karen had read about this place in a guide book and as it was only 2km we decided to take a look. Of course it wasn't 2km, more like 4km and the signs firstly went to exclusively Chinese symbols, then no more signs.

Arriving in a village a lady pointed us down a track at the side of the small river. There didn't seem to be anything down there so we returned and asked another person. They pointed down a road into a scruffy yard. It didn't look promising but then we noticed a little sign in English over a closed window saying 'Ticket Office'. It was deserted but there was a family in a house opposite. The man came out and said something we couldn't understand. After thinking we would be able to get tickets he eventually managed to get us to understand that the electricity was off so the cave was closed.

Returning to the junction we took the Guiling road. It was a nightmare. The roughest, dustiest road we have ridden on yet. The surface had great lumps of rock protruding from it, the edges rubbed shiny by heavy lorries, buses, trucks and motorbikes which left clouds of thick dust in their wake. There were massive potholes and all the traffic vied with each other for the least rocky part of the road. Watching the buses approach at speed over the bumps for once we were glad to not be a passenger on them.

After 8km we arrived at the village of Jiangcun. We sat in the shade inside one of the little stores and as we drank our cokes a lot of the locals came to peek through the door at the foreigners. There wasn't much to eat, just a few factory made cakes and biscuits packed in plastic. The helpful lady owner produced a pack containing a bread bun with a sickly honey/coconut filling with some brown lumps which could have been raisins. Too hot and hungry to care we ate them. The two lady shop keepers sat on tiny stools knitting intricately patterned jumpers.

The road didn't improve and 2km later it began to climb into the mountains.At least by now it was relatively quiet with only a few motorbikes and locals leading their cattle. Steve was still feeling unwell and had to take it slowly.

Halfway up this first hill we met another touring cyclists coming in the opposite direction. This was Chris, from Aberdeen, who had been cycling RTW since February.

After a quick exchange of web addresses we continued up the hill, and the next one, and the next one..........

There were some fabulous views over the karst from the tops but the arduous surface and Steve's problems made it seem like torture. Worse still we were fast running out of water. After about 25km we breasted the last summit giving views, though a bit hazy, into the Li valley far below us.

A long descent followed, we knew we'd climbed a long way. Halfway down we reached concrete road. At the bottom we managed to buy water so quenched our thirst. It was 4.30pm and still 30km to Guilin. Steve was finished so we decided to stop at the first accommodation we could find. There was a huge resort complex right at the side of the road. It looked expensive and exclusive with the car park full of buses and cars and a huge, impressive water feature. We rode in and up to the reception building. This was locked with a big padlock. The next door along was similarly fastened. There was a security guy at the gate but he tried to ignore us so we gave up and continued.

We found a rather seedy hotel in the next town and booked in. It was only 60 Y so we could ignore the filthy walls and cockroaches. Down the road from the hotel was an outside food stall where we had stir fried noodles and vegetables, small beef skewers and barbecued sweetcorn which with two bottles of local beer cost £3.

Day 9: Wan Shou Gan to Guilin - 19km


Before going to bed we piled all the bags onto the other bed to keep the cockroaches out of them. It wasn't a good nights sleep as the mattress was so hard. The next day was hot for the ride into Guilin, a flat and easy one. We had dreams of a nice English breakfast with coffee in the city but after walking round for a while had to settle for a pizza instead. We got a room at the Starway Hotel Grand which has the most comfortable beds in China. To make sure that Steve was completely recovered we booked in for another night and spent the next day exploring Guilin.

Day off: Guilin

Guilin is a vibrant, cosmopolitan city.  The heavy traffic seems to be kept out of the main town and the avenues are wide and tree lined making it a light and leafy environment.  We breakfasted at a nice little coffee bar serving a real American breakfast and then walked along the side of the river, where even in the middle of the city, fishermen were poling their boats along, casting their nets and one was even using a cormorant to fish, (just like the HSBC advert).

The whole city is built in and around the karst rocks and we had to climb one of them at least. A further walk along the river took us to the  Bright Moon Hill.  We dutifully paid our 35 yuan each, jostled with the hoards of Chinese tour groups and trudged our way up the, god knows how many steps, to reach the top, where we were treated to wonderful views across the town.

From here we could look across the Mulong Lake where we decided to head for next, but not before finding some lunch.  Steve managed a bowl of noodles, he was definitely a lot better.

The area around the Lake has been preserved as an example of the old fisherman's village and includes what is left of the original city wall gates, but at 90 yuan each we passed.

Instead, we headed across the road to view a number of street stalls selling the most beautiful Chinese vases and pottery figures.  If only we had a house to put them in.....

With tired legs and a yearning for that afternoon beer, it was time to head back to the hotel, shopping on the way to buy in supplies for a long hard ride into the mountains and rice terraces tomorrow.