The Wind - your personal guide

Obviously, the wind is a huge part of our day, and to say I have become obsessed is not an overstatement. It makes the flat days damn difficult.

So, for those of you who are interested in such things, I thought I would share with you our source of information. We use windytv.com.

You can zoom in on the map - we are in Choyr and will be heading to Ulaanbaatar over the next 4-5 days. Click on the wind symbol on the right hand side of the screen, and then scroll through the days. There is a key in the bottom right right hand corner to tell you what the different colours mean.

Remember, northerly especially BAD, southerly BRILLIANT!

Enjoy!

Saynshand - Choyr

Fromn Saynshand the first day of biking has gone smoothly, and we have made a solid effort in the expected five day journey to Choyr via Airag.

Sweet camping spot

The reality is that although I thought paved road would be easy, this is very much a challenge. We are both currently pretty exhausted - mostly mentally. The constant and persistent wind definitely takes its toll and puts us on edge. We have found our moods change with the wind and clouds, and I am regularly working from the bottom of my fuel reserve. We have questioned a number of times whether this is a journey we will see all the way through to Ulaanbaatar. But there is only one way to find out.

A break from the wind

Today we made it to Airag after another battle with the wind. We settled down to a hot lunch where we watched through the window as droves of young boys, many with their own bikes, gathered around our bikes prodding and touching. After lunch, when all the spectators had dispersed, we offered the cooks son a push around on our bikes. He was very shy, but we lifted him up on to Calvin's bike and with his little arms stretching their full length to reach the handlebars he was pushed around in the gravel with his nervous wee grin. With him dismounted, we remounted and were about to take off when a few of the boys returned and offered us lollipops. We were mimed to stick them directly on to our tongues and then remove them leaving a big purple alien print on our tongues. With that they were satisfied, they waved us goodbye and they were gone.

Once again we set off into the wind, and 3km out of town nestled down into a camping spot in another quarry. We are both agreed that it is time for some relaxation, so Calvin is reading and at the end of this sentence I will have a nap.

Two more days of riding and we'll be in Choyr where we have agreed on a compulsory rest day.

We wake up, eat breakfast, pack up, re-chain the bikes, then load the bikes as the morning winds set in and you start to get colder and colder. Kate cracked, the tears came out. The endless days of riding in head winds, having little reprieve and the short tempers we have from the annoying winds had beaten us down. So it was a quiet ride in the morning, each in our own thoughts and slowly pushing along. 

20km down the road we pulled into Dalanjargalan. A small town with a great little convenience store a couple of hundred metres off the highway. Having previously talked about getting some bread and savoury snacks we came away with chocolate biscuits, strawberry sponge cream roll and cream filled buns. It was good, although some regret came later when coming off a sugar high and wanting savoury food.

Our next pleasant surprise waiting down the road, or more so whizzing along with a tail wind towards us, was the first cycle tourer we have seen on our journey. We were a bit bewildered but keen to have a chat and share some stories about what lay ahead for each other. An older aged Chinese man slowly eventuated. He pulled over with much excitement in seeing us and started speaking Chinese (we think) only to realise we suck at speaking Chinese. So it was a conversation of many hand gestures, laughs, pointing at bikes, miming that he was bloody lucky (or just really intelligent) having the wind behind him the whole way, a few photos and then we departed in opposite directions. His set up was fairly basic: handle bar bag was a big basket and pannier bags some soft case bags strapped to his bike.

Our camp site that night was a great spot tucked up between some low rolling hills with a great view all around, including what were the closest thing to mountains we have seen. The local farmer also came over for a curious hello after moving his stock toward us. Although he appeared completely unphased by us, I think he was just as surprised at us as we were at him. After a miserable start to the day it managed to turn into one of great surprises.

Night times in the tent so far have been quite pleasant with winds dying down overnight (except the storm) and the sky clears to present a fantastic display of stars including an upside down "Big Dipper" or "The Pot". The lowest temperature we have hit so far is -4 but wrapped up in sleeping bags and many thermals it has been comfortable sleeping until you need to pee!

The amazing nothingness

Our last day getting to Choyr was a joy. No morning wind, a slight tail wind and sun in full beam!! The bikes hummed along the road. We had a brief chat with a drunk guy who insisted on us showing him a map that was buried deep in one of our many panniers, then proceeded to clamber on the back of our bikes hoping for a ride before his sober friend gratefully kept him under control. Their vehicle had broken down so maybe he just wanted a ride?

Choyr appeared in front of us soon enough and we scouted around the town for somewhere to stay. A local pulled up next us trying converse, realised we didn't speak Mongolian so called his sister who translated between us that we were looking for somewhere to stay. "Follow us" was the answer, or more so his young son went and got his bike and we followed him back out of town to a hotel we had seen earlier at the turnoff from the highway.

It has been pleasant stay and much needed rest where copious amounts of food have been eaten, much sleep had, too much laundry done and unfortunately a cold shower endured. Stiff nipples and much shrinkage but good to feel clean again.

Zamiin Uud - Saynshand

We had it all; 23 litres of water, six nights of food, 12 awesomely decorated hardboiled eggs - coincidentally done on Easter Monday - both handlebar bags containing secretly bought chocolate treats we planned to surprise the other with later on, everything we've lugged around China for this exact moment - tent, mats, sleeping bags, cooker. This was it. Day one into the Gobi desert. I know, The Gobi Desert. This was the adventurous part of our journey. The Unknown. The exciting. The intrepid! 

Supplies

After one kilometre of sand and corrugated back roads, we hit the new sealed road that was planned for building in 2010. We had tried to find out if it had been paved yet or not, and all but one account said that the sealing had not yet eventuated. However, there it was in front of us. And with that sealed road came the sealed fate of our journey. Gone were the images of pushing the laden bikes through sandpits. Gone was the mental challenge of 'another day riding through sand'. Gone was all the enthusiasm I had mustered for this 'adventure of a lifetime'. We were on a sealed road. One of better quality than the many great roads of China, and we were going to follow it with the same rhythmic pedal strokes that had proceeded the month before.

Outside, I laughed and reflected on the disappointment felt when reality doesn't meet expectations.

Inside, I was just disappointed.

On our way!

But, like many things, there was the silver lining to this cloud. The road was sealed! Our journey to the capital, Ulaanbaatar, would be relatively quick, and we would get more time to explore the other spoils of Mongolia. And challenges would still present themselves. The desert is still harsh.

We pitched our tent that night learning our first rule of Gobi camping; although the rocks may provide much needed shelter from the wind, you cannot drive a tent peg into them. So on to lower land we pitched, set up camp, scoffed some delicious food and settled in for an expectedly windy nights sleep. And windy it was. First there was the flash of lightening, the crack of thunder, and I foolishly asked what we do in an electrical storm. "Nothing". Then the rustle of the tent was quietened by the pitter patter of rainfall which died away quickly - phew, flash flood overted. Midnight to 7am provided much stronger winds and another bout of heavy rain, but with the sunrise came a sigh of relief that we had made it through our first night.

Brilliantly decorated eggs

Day 2 brought all that the wind forecast had promised - though for some reason we had both assumed high winds meant we would get a sandstorm. No storm has presented at present, but with winds too high to ride in we are confined to the tent for the day in the sweltering heat of the desert sun, keeping everything closed off to keep the sand at bay, and fighting our boredom.

Cancel that, the sandstorm came!

The next day we took off in light headwinds. About 30km into our day, feeling cold and tired, we were beckoned over to a ger by a man. It took us a while to realise that we were being waved over and he wasn't just doing arm exercises. Inside the ger was his son, who dutifully lit the central fire with a blowtorch, and his wife, who was cleaning and preparing a huge metal bowl of innards. We were poured cups of milky tea (a bitter preparation) and with my best miming I asked if the carcass hanging behind Calvin was a sheep. No, in fact it was a dog. And with that we were offered dog liver wrapped in dog fat and cooked directly in the flames of the fire using a pair of metal tongs. We both agreed to drink our tea as quickly as possible and politely make an escape before it was too late and we had to eat dog. However, curiosity got the better of us and we had a go. Yum, just yum! Despite the fact that it was cut up in a bowl that had previously contained the dogs raw blood. It was so good and hot on that cold day. So we had seconds. Soon we were off back outside into the wind, and another 30km later we found a site to camp for the night near a quarry.

Calvin's new friends

The next day had us up at the crack of dawn to try and make it the final 50km to Saynshand. It started well with a slight tail wind. This turned in to a slight side wind and then a strong side/head wind. Before we knew it we were being thrown off the road by gusts of wind, dismounting our bikes before trucks passed us to avoid being sucked under their trailers, and then we were just in a full blown sandstorm. It was hard riding to say the least.

Finally, after what was a shattering ride, we made it to Saynshand. We found a hotel and checked the wind, all fingers and toes crossed that tomorrow would be a crap day and we could rest up for a day in Saynshand. Alas, the next day was great riding conditions. So after a marathon laundry effort, including some miscommunication about getting a sink plug causing the hotel to get in a plumber, we hit the local food stores to restock supplies, grabbed a quick bite to eat, repacked our bags and hit the sack ready to start it all again the next day.

Zamiin Uud and the Border Crossing

It was go day out of Erenhot, China and into Mongolia. The only way over the 10km or so border for us was load all our gear including bikes into an already sacked out, beat up, about to implode, explode and rattle apart border jeep from Mongolia. 130 Yuan paid to the driver after some negotiation and we were off with all his gear and two other passengers. It was full, although I'm sure the driver would have been happy to put more in if he could! The driving was loose. We hadn't even left the carpark and our driver hit the police barrier arm. The vehicle was stood down for half an hour and the driver earned and whack on the head by the frustrated Chinese policeman. Now on the road to the border the driving continued in loose style. Speeding, irrational tooting and over/undertaking. China immigration easy, Mongolian immigration a little bit more complex. We were asked to step into a seperate room for processing as no one could speak english.  The officers looked over our visas with confusion for a while before finally deciding to change them from entry and exithe visas to entry only. All done by simply writing on our visas in a ballpoint pen and stamped for authenticity.

Sacked out vehicle

We reloaded back into our jeep and were dropped off at the local square of Zamiin Uud. With a hotel found, and a delicious lunch of pastry stuffed with meat and deep fried, we were up in our rooms to celebrate our arrival in Mongolia with beer and cake, while watching a sandstorm blast through the town.

An approaching sandstorm

Celebration

The Statistics: Beijing to Erenhot

The long road north to the border

There are two roads that take you the 340km from Jining to Erenhot on the border with Mongolia – the G55 highway, and the smaller G208 running 1-5km parallel to it. We chose the latter. We took off on what was to be a short days riding, only to realise 6km in that Kate's brand new bottom bracket didn’t allow any more adjustment in my gears, and her chain was rubbing. Back to the bike store we went. It was a bit of a different reception this time, and we think it offended them that we were back – I know there is something about always letting the Chinese save face, but it is really hard when your communication is limited. However, a small spacer was inserted as a solution, and off we rode again.

This was our first taste of a head wind, and unbeknown to us it was our first experience of the winds that come off the Gobi dessert. After a late start, and some 16km of extra riding to sort the gears, we made it to our next stop.

Fighting the wind downhill

Chahar Yougi Houqi – Tomortei – Zhurihe – Saihan Tal – Erenhot

After facing a couple of days of clear blue skies and hefty head winds that seriously worked the body and the mind, we were not so positive that we could make it the final 120km from Saihan Tal to Erenhot in one day as planned. We packed provisions for food, expecting no villages along the way, and assuming we would have to camp. We rose at 6:30am hoping to catch calm air and tick off the first few kilometers at ease, bracing ourselves for a tough afternoon of head winds. However, as is often the way when you prepare for the worst, the wind kept mostly at bay for the morning, and early into the afternoon. That left us with only a couple of hours slog against the wind and our tiring bodies to make it all the way in to Erenhot. Our longest day in distance and time.

The regular morning crowd wondering what we are doing, where we are from, how our panniers, clip pedals and mud guards work.

7km down, 111km to go

Erenhot is our last destination in Northern China, and here we plan to rest and regroup for three days before crossing the border. China was always a wild card in our trip, and after four weeks we are feeling pretty comfortable with the language, communication, and the way things are done. Now it’s time to sit back, relax and let the calm wash over us before we set out on our next journey. With a side trip to the Geological Park (aka Dinosaur Park) of course!

Entering Erenhot, home of the dinosaurs

Exiting the Geological Park

"I'll save you Calvin!"

Jining

So the bad news.

A bent and almost cracked rear pannier rack for Kate, again. The new larger bolt hole that we got tapped in NZ was not holding. It has been the bane of our existence.

Options:

1. New rack welded to frame as we no longer trust bolt hole.
Complications: compromised rack integrity, welding alloy, finding and conveying what we want to a welder.
2. New bike and new rack if cannot find solution above.
Complications: finding correct bike size so can interchange gear from current bike and expensive.
3. Go to Beijing and source new bike and/or new rack if no solutions above. Complications: figuring out buses/trains and as above.
4. Fly to NZ get new touring bike and rack and fly back to China/Mongolia. Complications: Outrageous.

The result.

After a sleepless night and being a little bit unsure of what the day of riding ahead would bring, we arrived in Jining. Stuffed some food into our bellies then headed off to hopefully find an existing bike shop. BINGO. Giant store. Two mechanics going all-out to solve our predicament,  three other helpers including the boss and two gobsmacked foreigners. The result: a new and stronger rack (proven in pictures below), new bottom bracket (old one clunking), gears adjusted, rear mud guard, more zip ties given to us, two great new bells and all fixed on the spot right then and there at 5:30pm. All for $63 NZD – after insisting they charge us something. Oh, and then they shouted us dinner, a massive dinner, $50NZD worth all for us. Wow. That is generosity!!! That made us happy today.

Topeak rack: 0
China: 1 ... nah they deserve 5!

Two mechanics and the boss

Proving the rack can handle the weight of Kate's bags

Free dinner ordered by the boss

Zuoyun - Liangcheng; Hello Inner Mongolia!

Zuoyun

Datong managed to sap the enthusiasm right out of us both, and the road to Zuoyun did nothing to help bring it back. It was an overcast day, forecast for light rain. The traffic was heavy and fast, and there was no shoulder on the road for smaller vehicles. The air remained thick with coal, and by the time we reached Zuoyun we had passed a hand full of coal mines.

Our great road selection heading out of Datong

However, once again China managed to pull us back in as after being unable to identify a place to stay in town we stopped in at a convenience store to buy some food (one of every kind of biscuit) and drink, and ask where a hotel could be found. The incredibly kind owner not only pointed us in the right direction, making sure we understood clearly what he was talking about, but he let us leave with our newly acquired spoils free of charge.

Liangcheng

This ride has been an absolute highlight of the trip so far. It started with a ride approximately 15km straight up a valley. At a village about 10km in Calvin attempted to go around a speed bump getting very close to a small roadside wall.  While focusing on the locals staring at us and contemplating what might be under a large blanket he could see in the distance his senses got jumbled (probably due to multitasking) and he scraped his front tyre then smashed his front pannier against the wall. Classic. Some bending of the rack back to normal, adjusting of the brakes and we were off again.

From the last village in the valley rose a mountain range, scattered with remnants of the Great Wall of China, and a winding road of switchbacks leading to the top. What a spectacular climb. China sure has a knack for making even the most impassable looking area a smooth and gentle ride uphill. At the top of the mountain  (1932m – Kate won, Calvin on laundry duty) we passed from the Shanxi province into Inner Mongolia. The road was absolutely dead bar some cows, sheep, and one very shaggy looking bull that reminded us of a Highland koo. The descent to Liangcheng came in three bouts, each time dropping onto a new wee plateau followed by a short climb.

Today we go up

Old dirt mound remnant of a Great Wall tower

Calvin's on laundry

Then we went down!!! Then up. Then down! Then up. Then down!

We never cease to be amazed at the friendliness and helpfulness of the people here. On a rest day in Liangcheng, we bumped into a lovely lady (Zhang Yan) at a convenience store who spoke a little English. She proceeded to help us communicate with the shopkeeper, followed by driving us to the local supermarket, then inviting us out for dinner. It was an interesting (bullfrog, amazing spicy whole fish, bacon deliciousness and cucumber joy) and very generous dinner. The funny thing about sharing dinner with Zhang Yan was not the difficultly in having conversation but that neither of us thought about taking a photo. It was not until we said goodbye that we realised this. A shame to not have one but it felt so relaxed just sharing the occasion with her. Thanks.

We are famous

Constantly having photos taken

I think it’s fair to say that we now know what it is like to be a Hollywood movie star. We have had so many shoulder taps and cameras waved at us, calling us over for a photo. We’ve had sneaky ‘look like you’re checking something on your phone while directly facing the tourists’ photos snapped. Often it is people we have had interactions with, but also just people walking down the street, or in the same restaurant. We always oblige, but have now taken to pulling silly faces when people take photos on the sly to keep ourselves entertained. Kate was even so brash as to walk up to a woman who worked in the supermarket and look at her screen and say ‘I know, I caught you’ with a big grin on her face. She felt bad afterwards.

Yeah we can see you in the background. We know what you're up to.
Taking a photo of an uncoordinated eating foreigner.

Ying Xian - Datong

Ying Xian

Unbeknown to us, it was Qing Ming festival the day we arrived in Ying Xian. This festival is 3-4 days long. It can involve such things as sweeping and tidying the graves of your loved ones, and sometimes burning fake money and leaving food at their graves so they have enough money and food in the afterlife. It also involves many Chinese people travelling to important historical or cultural sights to celebrate Chinese traditional culture. This we found out from a kind man who stopped to talk to us at the Wooden Pagoda in Ying Xian. He and his family had driven from Beijing to see this almost 1000 year old purely wooden building – apparently the largest of its kind in the world.

Datong

We took back roads to Datong and couldn’t have made a better decisions. The roads were almost bare, as the sun shone on our backs.

Other than taking in the newly built city wall, Datong did not have much to boast.

A quick nap on the quiet roads

Da-Pong

Hunyuan

Hunyuan

The trucks just keep on coming. We believe one convoy that passed us was in the order of 25 nose-to-tail trucks after we started counting about halfway through and got to 15. We may not be following the silk road but we are definitely following the truckers road!

Anyway, we had a magnificent climb up to 1500m today with snowy mountains on one side of us and sun soaked on the other. A cheeky bet guessing the altitude we would climb to left Kate 40m short and doing the laundry that evening. A fast and freezing descent proceeded the climb, with stunning views across the plains. Our hotel room in Hunyuan, even though a bit noisy, had a grand view of some of the surrounding mountains.

False summit!

As a rest day in Hunyuan we biked 5km out of town to see the Hanging Monastery. This ancient structure is set into the cliffs, facing the dominating Mount Hengshan.

Hanging on to the Hanging Monastery

We then biked a further 3km to Mount Hengshan itself – one of the Five Great Mountains of China. Taxi drivers insisted we could not bike the 5km up the mountain road, but instead had to take a taxi. Luckily, we were saved this added expense as the man on the roads gate spoke perfect English (an utter rarity) and told us to purchase a ticket and let us through. After a short grunt up the mountain road we entered Mount Hengshan scenic spot. This was a climb (walking this time, not on our bikes) to 2,016m past beautiful old buildings – palaces and prayer halls – all set into the side of the mountain. The view from the top was a spectacular panorama of a lake, the rest of the mountain range, and the hand ploughed plains heading west and north to Datong.  I have to admit that my preconceptions from school field trips about Chinese people and their level of fitness have gone right out the window, as the young and old, fat and thin, flat shoed and high heeled all made their way merrily up the mountain.

On return to the car park at the top of the mountain road we found ourselves heavy hearted and holding our breath as we approached the spot we had parked our bikes and found that they weren’t there. Before panic totally set in we realised the bikes were tucked away 3m from where we had locked them. Assuming someone did not like them leaning against a sign post, they must have been moved, chains and all.

Once again, a wee bet about how long it would take us to descend and reach the hotel left Kate on laundry duty.

Xiheying - Guangling; Truckers Highway

Xiheying

The day of 1,000 trucks. The morning was spent climbing to 1,200m with an almost continuous stream of trucks passing us in each direction. One attempt was made to hop onto a smaller side road, but after 5km of rough riding we decided to battle it out with the trucks again. The day ended with a nice drop of around 200m to settle in to the bustling village of Xiheying and a gorging on deep fried street food.

X457 road

Guangling

Morning rush in Xiheying

Coal truck madness

The day of 1,000 coal trucks. Travelling in both directions, blindly reversing in and out of side streets, trying to pass each other whenever there was the smallest of gaps and all the while we were squeezed to the side of the blackened road. Loose. Our faces were blackened, and perhaps even our lungs. Our foray onto a side road was once again thwarted when 2km down the road we found the road being ripped up by machinery and a group of men signalling that we could not pass. 5km back down the highway we made another attempt to get away from the trucks, only to realise that it was true, the 20km of side road had been totally ripped up for... well we’re not really sure, so alas, back to the trucks we went.

Attempting to get away from the trucks 

After finding a hotel, we set off for the police station to once again register. After 30 minutes of confusion in the station we were finally told to go back to our hotel. Upon arrival we were called over to the reception and directed to fill in the online police register – in Chinese. After 20 minutes, and the very helpful use of Google Translate, we hit part of the form that we didn’t understand so were sent on our way back to our rooms. After an hour a knock at the door saw three policemen and three hotel staff huddled around our door to take photos of our passports, find out where we had come from, and then just as quickly leave. It’s no wonder so many hotels in China don’t want foreigners when it is so difficult for them to find out how to register us. Luckily, there were not hard feelings, and another round of get-photos-with-the-tourists ensued.

Yunqing - Fanshan

Yunqing

A town of amazing, dream-like murals

A quick fruit shop for some much needed vitamins before we hit the city

An easy ride through and past some cute little villages brought us to Yunqing. First stop, bike shop for two new tubes for Calvin as the puncture repairs weren’t holding. Then a good solid days rest to try and shake off our colds. Neither of us has ever had so much snot coming from our noses, or sneezed so many times in a day before.

Yunqing

Our first attempt at a sleep in didn’t go so well with the 7:30am blaring of children’s music to welcome the kids next door to kindergarten. Our ears hurt, so I’m not quite sure what good it was doing the kids. After 40 minutes and three repeats it was time to call it quits on sleeping in. A second trip was made to the bike shop, this time for replacement tyre leavers as the old trusted pair snapped while changing the tube.

Fanshan

It is hard to predict what a days riding in China will bring. The route from Yunqing to Fanshan was planned for what we hoped would be a picturesque ride along a lake. Instead, we were faced with a very distant lake hidden behind brand spanking new tourist villages. Tourist mecca might be a better description. These massive villages were in many different styles – German wooden architecture, British countryside, etc – and were adorned with the first garden beds we had seen in China, all full of planted fake flowers. At the end of the lake we were saved some hill climbing and instead made our way perilously through 3.1km of tunnel flanked by roaring trucks and cars.

Spring time in Disneyland? Nope, all fake!

The day finished in a very posh hotel, with a room decorated with a golden chandelier – all for $20NZD. Plus, we gained the attention of a very intrigued 50 year old man who just wanted to use his English with us at dinner. He used everything in his vocabulary, including ‘arm’, ‘window’ and ‘wife’ (pronounced ‘weef’). A pleasant evening.

Cycle touring with a cold

Dongyu Folk Village and Sihai; A taste of the mountains

Random somewhere (maybe Dongyu Folk Village)

Brrrrrr

The day started with sleet, continued with sleet and ended in showers. 4 layers on top, 3 layers on the legs, 2 layers of gloves and booties over our shoes. To our surprise we entered the Miyun Grand Canyon, Longyunshan and Yunmengshan Scenic Areas. Unbeknown to us we were about to encounter massive hill climbs through spectacular rocky mountains. It was awesome. And freezing. The climbs were nicely broken up by tunnels and the occasional descent.

Let the mountains begin

We ended up staying at a local rural house with no shower and shared a single toilet with the owners.  With frozen fingers, frozen toes and tired bodies we confided in each other that perhaps this wasn’t quite the adventure we had envisaged. Maybe a second round of China in May/June wasn’t for us. China had always just been a gateway to Mongolia anyway. We cranked the heat pump to 30 degrees most of the night and while we were wrapped up in blankets and sleeping bags the owners cooked an amazing dinner and brought it through to us. Incredibly friendly. Heading off to bed warm and with full bellies, we reflected that it was an epic day... in hindsight.

Cosy and well fed

Sihai

As per law, we tried registering our previous nights rural accommodation with local police in Luilimiao, but they didn’t know what we were on about and we were heading out of their district so they weren’t that interested anyway. We bumped into some local Saturday riders (an Aussie, African, Spanish and couple of Chinese), that were out for the day from Beijing, riding through the same way as us for the first section. It was great to speak English to someone! After taking our turn off we proceeded to climb to 1060m through snowy roads then descended with as many layers as you could fit on. At the bottom of the descent we rode on to find Sihai. After Calvin had a well earned quick nap we climbed a wee hill to a tower of the Great Wall. We ordered a massive dinner once again but got to order some delicious food, although we accidently got a 2L bottle of Sprite. Maybe that’s okay after a massive day of mountains.

More brrrrrr

We attempted to register with the police once again and after much confusion from the police they took a few of our details. Three hours later we think they worked out what they were meant to do as we got a knock on our door asking if we can supply our mobile number to them. It does seem a little bit Big Brother like but that’s just the way it is. Nothing to hide so nothing to worry about, and to some extent it feels good to know that the police are aware you are around. Are we converting?