Guilin to Guiyang

Day 10: Guilin to Ping'an – 95km

• End altitude: 1,000m
• Gain:              2,500m
• Max altitude:1,011m
  

We were up at 6.30am and had breakfast in the hotel. By 8.00 we were on the road, heading out of Guilin on the G321 towards the airport. The traffic was the busiest we've seen yet in China and at one major junction there was a long queue of vehicles and a little traffic policewoman with a whistle in charge of the motorbikes and cyclists.

It was 15km before we cleared the suburbs of Guilin and for a while the road was quieter. Once it got to 9.30am, the tourist buses carrying passengers up to the rice fields started to pass us in large numbers. The first 50km was pretty flat and we averaged about 20kph so after three hours we were sat in a village drinking coke and eating biscuits. A group of men arrived in a convoy of cars all adorned with pink bows and flowers. It was the Chinese equivalent of a Stag Party. They set off a large strip of fire crackers and then paraded through the market beating drums and carrying a wooden frame adorned with live ducks and other fruit and vegetables.

From here there were two climbs, one to 450m then, after a descent, another up to 950m. Just before the top of the second climb another touring cyclist caught up with us. He was Ed, a Brit from London who had quit his boring job in insurance to cycle RTW. He had just spent 5 weeks driving to Mongolia in a Citroen Saxo in the Mongolian Rally and was now riding his bike south, heading for SE Asia and New Zealand. We all sped down the other side of the hill (Ed a lot faster than us) and then sat in a roadside cafe to have lunch in the village of Heping.

From there we took the turning towards the Longhi Terraces Scenic Area which meant paying an entrance fee of 80Y each. The road was along a narrow river valley through a couple of villages with wooden houses very like those in the Alps. The local women wear traditional dress with black skirts and stockings and brightly patterned pink jackets. They grow their thick black hair long and wear it coiled on their foreheads, held in place by a scarf.

After cycling 10km along the valley we arrived at the turning for Ping'an, just 6km away. The only problem was that it was up all the way with hairpins, just like Alp D'Huez. Ed left us behind as we slogged away in granny gear. Only the first bend was steep, about 15%, but after that it was easier. It still took an hour to get to the top.

At the end of the road was a car park where the buses stopped and then we went through the gate into the bottom of the village. Only local traffic is allowed beyond there and if tourists don't want to climb up the steps they pay porters to carry them in a sedan chair.

It was quite a long climb to our accommodation, up many steps and we had to do the trip twice. First time carrying the bags, then back down to fetch the bikes. Ed was a gentleman and carried Karen's bike for her. Our hotel was the 'Longhi One', with views down the mountain over the rice terraces.

In the evening we met up with Ed for a meal. The restaurant offered the local specialities; sparrows. edible frogs and snails but we settled for tofu and chicken. After the meal the restaurant owners and staff were all sitting down for their own meal and the baby was dumped in Karen's lap whilst they ate. Her only anxiety was that the babies here don't wear nappies and she was afraid of getting wet.

Day Off: Ping'an

Today we left the bikes at the hotel and walked along the traditional paved pathways which connect the villages. There were several steep stepped climbs and descents as the paths wove along the terraced fields and through shady woodland. We went through Zhongliu and Dazai, both traditional wooden villages. Even here there at the top of the mountain, with the only access by about 1km of stone steps, there is lots of building going on.

All the materials have to be carried up the mountain, using ponies and a lot of human effort. Visitors too are carried up on wooden sedan chairs, each carried by four men, happily chatting to each other like it's just a stroll in the park.

The sight of the terraces covering the sides of the mountains, often only a few feet wide is awesome. It is impossible to comprehend the incredible amount of human labour that has gone into constructing them and then maintaining and harvesting crops from them.

Ed, Steve and Tom

After a five hour walk we caught the local bus back to Ping'an. On the bus we met up with Ed again, who had also done the walk, and Tom an American from Salt Lake City who is a consultant in the shoe industry, specifically working on ski boot projects.

Day 11: Ping'an to Chengyang Bridge – 109km

• End altitude: 283m
• Gain:             2,134m
• Max altitude:752m
  

We tried to get an early start but by the time we had breakfasted, lifted the bikes up the first set of the steps, wheeled them down the next set, negotiated a steep rubble path and ridden down to the car park it was 8.30am. At least the majority of the days riding would be downhill.

It was fun riding back down the hairpins to the valley. There's not much traffic in the mornings. We were soon back onto the G321 which follows the river valley downstream.

Longsheng is the first major town. It sits in the narrow river valley and like all other towns is expanding rapidly. With limited space for further building they are in the process of removing a huge area of mountain to build apartments.

For the next 60km the road continues along the river valley. The whole of this valley is busy not only building and expanding its towns but supplying the insatiable needs of the building industry. Massive saw mills processing recently felled trees, brick and tile manufacturing, and the incessant dredging of the river and its banks for sand and gravel.

All along the road people are selling attractive coloured and shaped boulders, dredged from the river bed.

At Sanjiang we turned off the main road, following the signs to the Chengyang Wind and Rain bridge. The road ran along a small river valley, the steep sides of which were planted with tea bushes while the floor had rice paddies. There were several old bamboo water wheels, to lift water from the river to irrigate the fields.

To get into the Chengyang bridge area we paid the 55 Y each entrance fee at the booth then 5 yards further on had to show the ticket to another official and then again show it at the bridge. They don't intend anyone getting in here for free. The bridge itself was impressive. About 100years old and made from fir logs, it has no nails used in its construction.

We booked into Yang's Guesthouse, just along the track from the bridge. It is a traditional wood building with letting rooms on the upper floor above a bar and restaurant. Revived with a shower and a beer we walked into the village.

 The people of the village are descended from the Dong, one of many minority groups in this part of China, and have distinctive dress and traditions. The village square was busy with groups of women chatting, children playing and men smoking and playing cards. It felt like a relaxed, friendly and welcoming place.

Day 12: Chengyang Bridge to Congjiang -123km

• End altitude: 215m
• Gain:             732m
• Max altitude:377m
  

Yang's guesthouse had bacon (read spam) and eggs as well as banana pancakes on the breakfast menu so we left with full stomachs. It was 17km back to the outskirts of Sanjang, through the tea plantations, before we picked up the G321 again heading west. It continued to follow the river valley downstream and was wide with a smooth concrete surface.

After about 20km the road climbs over a bluff at the confluence of the Dulio and the Cong rivers. The road goes through the village of Liangkou with some of the oldest village houses we have seen yet. Dropping down the other side we were now in the valley of the Dulio river, heading upstream.




Suddenly the well groomed road deteriorated to a narrow, rough tarmac with huge potholes. It was nerve wracking in places negotiating the massive potholes, competing for road space with the buses and large laden lorries with their intimidatingly loud horns.

The roads got even worse through the towns. In each one there was a huge amount of building taking place. The roads were half blocked with piles of sand, gravel and bricks as well as lorries delivering more. Despite the relatively quiet roads into them, the centers were always a log jam of buses, lorries and taxis, all blasting their horns but going nowhere. We could weave in and out of the melee and escape at the other side.

Most of the villages we rode through were very poor with few shops or places serving food. In one place they had just slaughtered a cow and four men were busy butchering it on the pavement at the side of the road. The village dogs had gathered to feast on the blood which was pouring down the gutter. We had been looking for some lunch for 90 minutes. In desperation we stopped at a shack with a crowd of men sat outside playing cards and asked if we could get food. They pointed us to the little shop where the owner offered us pot noodles. Instead we brought oranges and drinks and sat by the roadside to eat them.

An hour later we came to a small town with a market which looked more promising. We rode into the market which was in a large covered area. As well as the usual vegetables and fruit, there were cages full of live ducks and chickens which made a tremendous noise. Outside the nearest food stall we saw a European man. We stopped to talk to him. He was Daniel Colombo, a Frenchman from Lyon. He was here on behalf of a charity called 'Association des Amities Franco-Chinoises de Lyon'. The charity provides funds for children of the minority villages to attend school. We shared lunch with him and he generously paid for us and gave us his telephone number if we needed any help in Kunming where he has many friends.

After a long day of cycling the last 10km as always was the hardest with a few small climbs and then, on the outskirts of the town a new road was being built. It will be grand in the future with wide pavements, tree lined river bank and new buildings, but currently it is a rough dusty dreary entry. The whole town centre has also had road resurfacing and new pavements and street furniture but everything is covered in a thick layer of grey dust, including all the trees. The hotel we booked into was in need of refurbishment with a damp problem making everything small musty but we were too tried to care.

 Day 13: Congjiang to Rongjiang - 82km 

• End altitude: 258m 
• Gain:             1,750m
• Max altitude:828m
  

Steve decided to look at the profile for today's ride on 'map my ride'. It showed a gradual climb over 24km to 800m, nothing steeper than 7%, then an equally slow descent followed by 40km fairly flat. Checking it out on the map he realised it went on a mountain road, not along the G321, but that it was about 10km shorter. It also went through the Dong village of Basha, about 7.5km from Congjiang, which was mentioned in Lonely Planet.

After a very mediocre breakfast at the hotel we set off over the river and started a long, steep tarmac climb. This certainly had sections steeper than 7% and we were down in first gear. After 7.5km of climbing we arrived at Basha. Although this is a through road you have to pay a village entry fee of 35 Y each. The entry gate was very busy with a lot of police and locals dressed in local costume. It seemed like something important was going to happen. The men have their hair cut very short except for a small area on the crown which they grow long in a pony tail.

We went to leave our bikes at the roadside opposite the gate thinking with all those police around they must be safe. A pretty little policewoman got very concerned. She made a phone call on her mobile and a large black people carrier arrived. She jumped in and told us to follow on the bikes. They led us up the road to the youth hostel and we left the bikes on their terrace. Then we got a ride back to the gate in the police vehicle.

Back at the gate about three coaches had arrived with a party of VIP's and we tagged along with them to see the show. The village men greeted them by playing their bamboo pipes and firing a volley with their antique rifles. All the young village girls lined up in their traditional costume with their beautiful dark hair twisted over their foreheads. We were swept along by the great mass of people through the village but it all seemed a little contrived and intrusive. We made a bid for escape but one of the VIP's turned us back.

At last we spotted a path to the top of the hill and left unobserved. Although this is a village now thoroughly on the tourist trail, it still clings onto its old ways with the women sewing, spinning and dying cloth with indigo and the men farming and hunting,

women using mallets in indigo dye process

At the youth hostel we thought we might get some food but the fire had only just been lit and the pieces of pig ears on the grill didn't entice us to wait till it was cooked.

The road continued uphill and the lovely smooth tarmac ended after about 4 km. The next 25km was unsurfaced and the profile was completely inaccurate with some short steep climbs followed by descents. The scenery was fantastic with mountains and forests all around us. In the valleys were more minority villages with terraced fields and cattle grazing.

At last we reached  800m summit and now had a long rough downhill. Reaching tarmac at last we assumed it was the G321 and turned left. After 4km of downhill the tarmac ended again and we realised we had made a mistake and had to re climb the hill and down the other side.

Where the road joined the G321 there was a bus stop in the middle of nowhere with lots of people waiting for buses and a couple of stalls selling snacks and drinks. It was nearly 3.30pm and there was still 44km to cycle to Rongjiang.

It was obvious that the this bit of the road was going to be just as poorly maintained as yesterday but it was fairly flat and the potholes were navigable. About 10km from the town there was an impressive new motorway bridge spanning the valley which had only just been completed. From here on the road was completely destroyed with a really rough surface and a thick layer of fine dust. It was starting to get dark and we only had 6km to go. Then the road turned away from the river and started climbing uphill. There was lots of traffic and lorries and it was now difficult to see the road surface. At the sides the dust was so thick that the wheels skidded and each passing vehicle threw up clouds of choking dust.

In the pitch dark we made it to the outskirts of the town and the last obstacle, a huge man-made 'ford', probably to wash the dirt from the tyres before entering the town. It was about 2 feet deep and the muddy water meant that any hazards at the base were invisible. We had to get off and push the bikes while balancing on the narrow concrete edge and avoiding the splashing from the lorries. There was a cheap hotel just beyond there and we were too exhausted to go any further.

Day 14: Rongjiang to Sandu – 112km

• End altitude: 917m 
• Gain:             921m
• Max altitude:943m
  

It was with heavy hearts that we got out of bed this morning. There was no prospect of reasonable accommodation for 112km and we couldn't imagine the road would be in any better state of repair. We rode over the grand new road bridge over the river. The activity was intense putting the finishing touches to the plan. Workmen welding on the bridge railings, electricians wiring the lights, women laying paving on the new pavements.

The town was a real wonderland, full of different racial groups, all dressed in their distinctive clothing and head wear. Young women carrying tiny babies on their backs in beautifully embroidered homemade carriers, old men bent from years of toil leaning on wooden staffs, ladies with baskets of vegetables selling to the food stall holders. We could have sat and watched all day. But we had another long day to get through.

Leaving town the road was very rough but did improve a little with about 50% reasonable surface. It continued up the river valley which was gradually getting narrower and steeper sided. Mostly it was forested, with a lot of pine plantation, interspersed with terraced agricultural areas.

The villages were mostly on the other side of the valley with access only possible by boat.

It was Sunday so the children were not at school and every village we passed through they ran along at our sides shouting hellos and laughing and giggling. Lunch was noodles as usual, served by a smiling friendly young lady who was desperate to chat but we didn't understand. She was stitching the most intricate tapestry in between serving customers.

Passing the G321 1000km marker

After 75km we thought we were on the home straight with only 35 more to go. But then the road began to climb and continued up for the next 4km as the river went through a narrow gorge. Along this section we passed the 1,000km marker for the G321 which we have followed most of the way from Goaming.

The descent was on tarmac but there were two major landslides which had taken all of the road and there was just a mound of earth and rubble to find a route over. Amazingly people were driving up this road in ordinary saloon cars.The second landslide was on the approach to the construction site of a new hydroelectric dam so there was frenetic activity to re-instate the road. Hoards of people scuttling over the rocks like ants, removing debris in baskets on their backs, men, women and children

At 90km the tarmac ended and our exhausted legs had to negotiate the rocky ascents and descents as the sun started to set. We rode the last 3km into Sandu behind a low loader carrying a bulldozer. The first hotel we saw looked quite good but the receptionist was appalled when we pushed our filthy, dust covered bikes into her pristine foyer. The next hour was spent removing the thick layer of dust from our bodies, clothes and bags. Even Peter had to have a wash and brush up. The bikes will have to wait till later.

Day Off – Sandu

It rained heavily all night and didn't show any signs of stopping so we decided to rest our weary legs and sit it out, hoping for better weather tomorrow. It was a good decision as it hardly stopped all day. We still have at least 30km of the G321 before any possible escape. We have really enjoyed seeing the scenery and villages and experiencing a very real China but couldn't recommend riding a bike along the Sanjiang to Sandu section of the G321 until it is resurfaced.

In the evening we were very sinful and went to the Chinese version of 'KFC' and had chips, coke and a whole fried chicken between us. It was utterly delicious. On the way back to the hotel we also found a 'Coffee Shop' which was a cover for a bar so enjoyed a couple of cans of beer in the elegantly furnished but almost empty hostelry.

Day 15: Sandu to Danzhai - 50km

• End altitude: 918m 
• Gain:             921m
• Max altitude:943m

The weather system which caused yesterday's heavy rain also brought with it cold air and overnight the temperature dropped about 12C. Rested and refreshed and hoping for a good road we set off. It was much better and the ride was quite challenging, climbing into the mountains to a height of about 850m. The temperature at this elevation was even lower so for the first time we were quite cold.

The houses here were different, wooden but with fancy carved wooden balconies and white painted edgings to the roofs.The new G76 motorway crosses the valley on another impressive bridge, but when we rode over it later there were no vehicles on it.

Arriving in Danzhai about 1.00pm we were searching for a reasonable place to eat. On the main street was a noodle place but the woman said she was closed. Seeing our crestfallen looks she pointed us down an alleyway across the road. Riding down, past a  garage and a couple of sheds we came to what looked like a large warehouse. Walking in, in our cycling gear, we were immediately the center of attention. Although scruffy, it was obviously a popular eating place with several small partitioned rooms with tables all full of people. A young man came out from one of these and offered to help us choose food from the menu as he spoke a little English. In the end he and the waitress chose food for us and it was a great meal.

The waitress's three children had just got home from school and were fascinated by our bikes and gadgets. Slowly the word spread and about ten of their friends also turned up to see the strange visitors. They showed us their English language school workbooks but the limit of their skills was 'hello'. About the same as our Chinese ones.

The large town is at an altitude of 974m and it was very cold. We decided to book into a hotel as it was more than 40km to the next place with accommodation. The Danzhai Guesthouse looked grand and newly refurbished and for 208 Y we got a big room with a sit on toilet (pure luxury), big TV (even one English language channel) and fluffy bathrobes. After having a shower Steve went off to wash the bikes leaving Karen in the room in her fluffy robe. A knock on the door revealed two Chinese police officers, who spoke no English, asking to see our passports. After a rather awkward exchange where neither side understood a word of what the other was saying they left, appearing satisfied.

That evening we went in search of a restaurant. There were plenty of little shops with cheap plastic stools and tables but a tablecloth and a comfy chair would be nice. Almost at the stage of giving up we spotted likely looking place. Inside we were ushered upstairs and into one of many small private dining rooms with a large circular table with a hotplate in the middle. The whole family came up with us and presented us with the usual many page menu and stood round waiting for our order. A request for fish received a negative response as did the one for duck. But they did have goose! They pointed to the first entry on the menu, which looked like some sort of banquet meal, for 2,4 or 6 people. It was quite expensive but we ordered it and waited for the food.

The meal consisted of a large pot of goose bits in gravy, which bubbled away on the hotplate, a huge bowl of steamed rice and a big basket of raw cabbage. Closer examination of the contents of the pot revealed a few bits of leg, mostly bone with small amounts of meat and ten goose feet. That was more than 3 yards! What had happened to the rest of the meat from these five fine birds. We sucked on the bones, tried one foot each and then contented ourselves with cooking the cabbage in the gravy and eating it with lots of rice.

Day 16: Danzhai to Duyun – 52km

• End altitude :785m 
• Gain:              929m
• Max altitude:1,155m
  

The morning was cold, misty and dismal with fine drizzle and occasional short bursts of rain. At 800m above sea level it was so cold that for the first time this trip we needed long tops, tights and windproof jackets. At least the road was reasonable, only a few rough parts at first. There were several long but gentle climbs through agricultural areas and small villages. In one valley we stopped and watched two men ploughing with buffalo.

The day continued with climbing and descents. The most memorable was a long sweeping gentle downhill on silky smooth newly laid tarmac. In the next town we passed a garage that was full of life size wire and paper horses being prepared for a festival.

 Still lots of building going on, this one being built in the traditional wooden style.

Duyun was once again a featureless Chinese town. At night all of the buildings along the river were illuminated with bright neon lights but they are just offices or residential blocks. We struggled to find a restaurant again. It is all very well eating at roadside stalls when it is warm but in the freezing cold it is not fun.

There was a place on the riverside but again we were taken upstairs into a private room with its large circular table and hotplate in the middle. Having learnt from our mistake of last night, we ordered three individual dishes (the menu had pictures, big help). It was a good meal but it felt very lonely in a room all by ourselves.

Day 17: Duyun to Guiding – 92km

• End altitude: 1,012m 
• Gain:             1,703m
• Max altitude:1,343m
  

It was still dull, cold and the clouds were low. Without any Internet last night we hadn't been able to check out the profile for today's ride. In retrospect that was probably a good thing. A puncture in Karen's back tyre within 20 minutes of setting out set the mood for the day. We were also feeling a bit bereft as after following the G321 ever since arriving in China, we were now on the G210

Most of the morning seemed to be climbing with occasional descents. All around us were steep sided mountains with their heads in the clouds. The road followed a deep tree lined gorge and then went through farms and villages. This is an important transport corridor with the road, motorway and railway all weaving in between the mountains.

As our altitude increased it got colder and the rain was heavier so we had to don the ponchos, mainly to try and keep warm. The area became more industrial with small quarries, cement works and lots of derelict buildings. It reminded us of some of the worst areas of West Yorkshire, especially with the cold weather.

There was a highlight to the day when we came across a really good roadside food place just at midday. We went into the kitchen (very loose description, more like a garage with a wood fire) and chose from a large variety of meats and vegetables. These were then cooked up in a big wok and served on a hotplate at the table with lots of rice.

After lunch the scenery was even more depressing with lots of industrial construction. There was a huge power station being built with massive cooling towers towering over the small houses around it. This was a Machangping, where we had planned to stay for the night. The town was awful with half built houses and derelict shops, piles of rubble and rubbish everywhere. It was 3pm and the next town was Guiding, 40km away.

What we didn't realise was that ahead of us was a 600m climb to 1,423m which meant frustratingly slow progress. As we toiled up the hills the motorway and railway soared above us on massive concrete bridges spanning the valleys. It was after 5pm when we reached the summit but from there was a long descent into Guiding so we just made it into town without having to put on our lights. It was a relief that the day was over after 1,765m of climbing.

Day Off: Guiding

We were too exhausted to get out of bed till 9.30am so decided to have a rest day. Out shopping in the market for fruit for breakfast we were picked up by a policewoman who wanted to see our passports and asked us to 'come with me'. We were panicking because we couldn't remember the name of the place where we were staying. Luckily she took us past our hotel and seemed happy enough once she had checked that they had photocopied our passports.After that we hid in our room for the rest of the day.

Day 18: Guiding to Guiyang – 85km

• End altitude:1,070m 
• Gain:              1,459m
• max altitude:1,408m
  

Although there was still hazy cloud over the mountains, it was a much warmer morning, and later, as the sun rose over the peaks, it was quite warm. The ride started with a long climb up to 1100m. The road wound through a number of large quarries and was busy with heavy, stone carrying lorries. As usual these were completely overloaded and the road was littered with huge chunks of rock which had fallen off them. We made a mental note not to ride too close. There were also trucks (over) laden with tarmac that sprinkled some of their load at every hairpin. They had to stop halfway up the hill to let their engines cool.

The day continued with a feeling that we were constantly climbing. Grinding up a 5km climb took an hour while at 45kph the descent took only minutes. The scenery was pleasant but not outstanding. By lunch we had reached Longli, about halfway. Lunch was followed by a puncture repair for Karen's front wheel.

The approach to the city of Guiyang was predictably manic and confusing, but we found this small haven of peace at the local cemetry, being carefully tended by grounds people.

As we passed by its impressive entrance peaceful music played.





The G206 crosses under the motorway on a rough, unsurfaced section and the road layout bears little resemblance to the map. We estimated that we still had 7km to the town centre and the terrain was very hilly with lots of small but steep hills.

As we followed the road parallel to the motorway a group of three Chinese mountain bikers caught up with us. After a couple of kilometers we came to a road junction for the freeway into Guiyang. The mountain bikers stopped us and with some sign language suggested that if we followed them we could avoid the long hilly approach on the G206. They turned up the slip road to the freeway, riding blatantly past the 'No Bicycles' sign and onto the freeway. After about 3km there was a 2km tunnel with a gentle downhill gradient and the six of us (another cyclist was also ignoring the bike ban) shot down through the thankfully well lit tunnel.

The traffic in Guiyang was the busiest we have yet come across. Bumper to bumper cars and taxis

and hardly any motorbikes. Each traffic light junction was patrolled by several policeman to enforce the traffic light signals as most Chinese drivers simply ignore them. On the pavements were uniformed crossing controllers who were in charge of pedestrians, blocking the crossings with ropes when the lights were on green.

On the bikes we made much faster progress than the vehicles. The roads through the centre are all fenced, no pedestrian areas so once on them it was difficult to get off. Finding a hotel proved difficult and a ride right through the central area found only a couple of very sleazy ones. The first promising one, near the train station, refused to book in foreign nationals but directed us down the road to the 4 star Forest City Wanyi Hotel. It was a bit more expensive but as it was nearly dark and we were dog tired we booked in for 2 nights and b***** the budget.

Once we'd washed the grime off our bodies we walked out to find food. There were lots of food stalls along the streets but nothing tempted us. We went into the massive Honk Long Mall and found a place called LA Diner. The chef owner was an American called James and came over to chat with us. Originally from LA he had spent the last 8 years living and working in China and spoke fluent Mandarin. He had spent his time working with many of the famous chefs in China, learning how to cook the local specialities and was planning to return to LA to open an authentic Chinese restaurant.

The meal was very good and we got to sample six varieties of homemade ice-cream for free. We also got recommendations for several local restaurants serving unique Guiyang cuisine for tomorrow night.

Day Off: Guiyang

We had a lie in and did some web work in the morning. Later we strolled along the river bank, watching the Chinese enjoy their Sunday afternoon. There were many groups playing and watching board games. A lot of money was being wagered on card games.

Small pavement stalls offered denture repairs or sales of pre-used sets.Others were administering acupuncture in the middle of the throng. Many unusual and questionable herbs and powders were mixed into medicines. Groups of men sold probably illegal animal pelts and fur clothing. A long row of stalls sold carved stone sculptures and jewellery. Men and women wandered through the crowds with merchandise, tobacco, fruit, brushes, sweets.

The squares were full of music and people dancing.

Karen got to have a try. The lady held onto her so tightly she couldn't escape.

Men played 'whip and top' with large metal humming tops.  By the river there was kite flying and fishing.

Everywhere was teeming with people but generally the pace was slow and unhurried. We stood by a fish pond whilst listening to this gent playing the two stringed fiddle.

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.