ROCn 200k 2007

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ROCRandonneurs Of China

"You're all invited."

Table of contents

Thu: Getting ThereFri: Intro to Biking in ChinaSat: Brevet DaySun: On My OwnMon: A MissionTue: Homeward

Chinese Visa

THE INAUGURAL SHANGHAI 200KMBREVET

April 14, 2007

Having recently moved to Shanghai, and living there

during a PBP year, Joe Keenan found himself unable toattend the brevets to qualify for PBP-2007, so theunflappable Mr. Keenan contacted Audax Club Parisianand negotiated permission to open up the nation ofChina to randonneuringROC was born!

I make it sound simple, but it must have been anythingbut. The ACP is famous for intricate and perplexingrules, and planning a 200km brevet route in fast-developing 21st centuryChinawhere maps are obsolete before the ink is drysurely an insurmountable taskfor most men.

From thirteen timezones away, Joe sent outthe "You are all invited"sin February, whichstruck me as anopportunity not to bemissed. Winning "airfareto anywhere in Asia" ata benefit auction provedthat it was meant to be.

Getting There

Thursday, April 12, 2007

Okay, I'm in Shanghai, now what?

Afterjust-enough-time to change planes stops inDetroit and Tokyo, I'm at the PVG airport on Shanghai'seast-side ("Pudong""Dong" means "east"). Is theShanghai Racquet Club shuttle-guy looking for me? Idon't see him. Should I grab a cab? I did not print out

the address for the SRC. Is it well known enough that Ido not need an address? Unfortunately, I had failed toadequately plan this far ahead. I know the downtownYMCA, as well as the Mingtown Hiker's Hostel, have been recommended bycyclotourists, and beds in Shanghai run as little as USD $ 6.00 per night, but I'vemade no reservations, have no addresses or phone numbers, the rail service is downfor the night and I've never been to China, or even east of India, before. This is the

Shanghai--Inaugural 200km brevet--Adrian Hands http://cycling.ahands.org/2007_

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Shanghai Airport

Forest Manor

way to start a vacation!

The airport's business center provides e-mail serviceand Joe rescues me by giving me the phone numberfor the front desk at the racquet club. The desk-manspeaks Chinese and can give my cab driver directions.Joe has the futon ready in the guest room, even though

my last indication to him was that I'd show up onFriday (tomorrow). A westerner walking through thecorridors of the Shanghai airport is greeted with calls of"Information?" from every hotel and rental car booth in the airport. I tell the girl atone of the rental car booths that I need to find a taxi. "Oh, we have," she replies. InChina, as in India, when you rent a car, a driver is included.

A half-hour later, while climbing into the back of the car, I note the low-fuel indicatorwhile the agent relays the directions to the driverand then we're off into theShanghai night. "America good," the driver exclaims. Well, sometimes. "Clinton," herecalls, and gives me a thumbs-up in the rear view mirror. "Okay, yeah, but we've gotGeorge Bush now," I reply. He looks puzzled. "Bush," I repeat, but the name doesn'tring a bell. Maybe I'm not pronouncing it right?

He gets on the cell phone, passes a semi on the rightand then cuts leftright in front of the semi. I guessthat's how it's done here? The semi driver gets on hishorn, so maybe not. He hangs up the phone, laughsnervously and becomes excited about the addresswe've given him. "Oh-ho, great distance," he stretchesout his arms and looks at me, then makes more phonecalls while speeding down the freeway. Eventually he realizes that he doesn't haveenough gas and starts to panic, tapping on the gage to emphasize to me our

predicament. Well, what does he want me to do? I've already paid the agentfour-hundred and fifty RMB; Do I need to buy gas on top of that? Yep. I think he saysfifty. I agree. Then he says one hundredhey what happened to fifty? "Hundred!Hundred!" Okay, a hundred. He pulls into a station, the attendant pumps onehundred RMB, I hand him a 100 RMB note making him so excited that he skipsaround the cab and gives me a hug! Now we can cut-off semis with a full tank of gas.

Nearing midnight, we're off the freeway and stopped at a red light on a wide avenue.A line of cars to our right is turning left in front of usodd? The left turn lane is on theright-side of the road. You see a lot of peculiar things in Shanghai.

Around midnight, we enter "Forest Manor". A sentry

stands duty at the entrance where gold letteringreflects the floodlights before a landscapedentrance-way and the palm tree have their trunkswrapped in "Christmas" lights. The Shanghai RacquetClub is a splendid complex of lush landscaping, pavedwalks, ornamental lighting, rhododendron, ponds, poolsand fountains. Inside, the building is finished withhardwood floors and solid hardwood doors. The roomy


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Big four lane highway with bike

lanes behind the guard rails on

both sides, but use as you see

fit

An electric two-wheeler in

Shanghai

image from IEEE Spectrum (June

2005)

garages hold no carseverybody walks, bikes and uses the shuttle or hired car here.Joe shows me to the shower, the futon and I'm in for the night.

Intro to Biking in China

Friday, April 13, 2007

On Friday, Joe sets me up to ride his recumbent aroundthis side of town while he finishes up some paperwork.I ride out of the SRC complex to Bei Qing Highwayabusy four-lane with bicycle paths on either side.There's white-on-blue signs, reminiscent of those inGermany, indicating the four-lane is for cars and theoutside lanes are for bikes. These Chinese bicyclepaths are mostly separated from the auto path by a lowwall, and they're much wider than the paths inGermanyin fact they're wide enough (12 feet?) for acar, and it's not uncommon to see a car creeping downone of them. Bikes often use the "car lanes" toomosttraffic control in China seems to be only suggestive.

Actually, in China, vehicles are divided into two groups:two wheelers and more-than-two wheelers. Somotorcycles, scooters and electric bikes are all togetherwith bicycles. Two wheelers are very popular, and themotorized versions have long been limited to an enginesize of no more than 150cc. Now, concerned about airpollution, the government is phasing-out gasoline-

fueled two-wheelers and many have switched to LPG orelectric. Electric bicycles of all sorts are very common,including the conversion kits that replace the frontwheel with a wheel with an electric motor built into thehub. These have no problem doing 20+ mph and aresilent. In India, men and boys often ride bicycles, butI've never seen the ladies in India pedalingtheyalways seem to opt for scooters or the "auto" (athree-wheel motorized rickshawwhat they call a "tuk-tuk" in eastern Asia). Here inChina, women bicycle, and everybody dresses formally, so you see many womenpedaling in high-heels.

Back home, in North Carolina, pedicabs or rickshaws are just beginning to appear inthe larger cities. I don't recall seeing any in China or India though. Bikes here arewidely used for transportation and for hauling large loads of all sorts of cargo, but forthe most part people traveling by bicycle pedal themselves. The "auto-rickshaw" mayhave killed the pedicab in India?


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A Shanghai Sculpture

Outdoor pool tables are all over

Shanghai.

Canal fish

Even though it rained last night, some people still weardust masks when out of doors. I think in Japan theywear them to guard against the spread air-borneviruses and bacteria, but in China I think they're wornto keep out the dust. To the north, Beijing suffers fromthe encroaching Gobi desert. Here, I'm not clear if the

particulates in the air are desert dust or urban smog orboth.

Turning east on Bei Qing Highway, then south into a community known as"Zhuditown" (pronounced something like "Judy-town") the streets are crowded andlined with people doing businesscooking food, selling rice, produce (watermelon,roasted corn on the cob, carved pineapples, apples), brown eggs and all manner ofgoods and services. The smell of street cooking and the occasional "incense" ofburning trash remind me of India.

In Zhuditown, a right turn at the tee intersection,through some barricades and eventually the road

leaves the dense and bustling Zhuditown to cross someovergrown fields. I continue up the road and takeanother path into another small village community.The path quickly becomes to narrow for cars andthere's more cooking, curb-side tailoring (I guess that'sa sewing machineit looks quite different from a"Singer") and a canopy covering four pool tables! Ican only guess that the five-star luxury hotels inShanghai probably have a high turnover of pool tables, and since everything getsrecycled in a country like this, the discarded pool tables probably find their way intothese open-air back alley establishmentsjust a guess. Passing a small Chinese school,

the sound of children singing drifts from the open windows.

There's a man with a small air compressor / bubbler onthe bridge over a canal. He's sorting through bucketsof small water creatures. Everyone smiles at the 'bentand gives "thumbs up". I return under the elevatedfreeway, turn east on Bei Qing again and go back tothe SRC.

After lunch at Rendezvous Caf (I had a deliciousmixed-mushroom dish, which the waitress described as"little bit spicy". I'm from Louisiana, and my wife is

from southern Indiaboth places known for pepperycuisineand I'd say it was more than a "little bit"), Joe and I head out for a longerride, covering the same groundin Zhuditown there's a guy bicycling with TWOfull-grown slaughtered hogs draped across his bikefarther west to inspect a sectionof tomorrow's brevet route. We cycle through some light industrial areas. Joe pointsout roads that were not there two weeks ago. On one of these new roads we seeseveral Chinese Driving School students practicing. There's a pile of glass in one curveand a severely dented tree. Apparently somebody flunked driving school. That's the


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Friday pub ride

Canal pedestrian bridges

ONLY glass I saw in the road in China. Things like glass bottles are too valuable towaste by breaking them in the road.

A landscaping crew is watering plants with pumps drawing water from the canal. Twobicycles are parked against the canal bridge. I do not doubt for a minute that theyhave carried those pumps and big hoses to this spot on those bicycles. Watching theChinese gives one a whole new understanding of how much weight one can transport

bicycleeven without a trailer! We detour to explore a freshly paved tractor paththrough a rice paddy. In Germany, the tractor paths were asphalt and were heavilyused by hikers and "Nordic walkers". Here they are cement and the culverts arecement-lined too. It all makes the south Louisiana rice paddies that my mother'sfamily owns and operates look somewhat primitive. I'd like to show this to my nephew,Peter-Ray, he'd appreciate it, but he'd probably prefer to stick with the Louisiana way(more mud, less cement, bigger tractors!)

Speaking of tractors, the "Caution: Tractors" road signs look the same as those in thewest, and the tractors silhouetted on those signs look like the ones that China exportsin large numbers. But a tractor here looks nothing like those on the signs. AroundShanghai, tractors have an exposed motor with a large exposed flywheel and big beltsway out in front of what looks like a low-cab pickup truck. These tractors ratherresemble some kind of tricked-out 1940s California hot-rod dragsters. Think of analtered-fuel Nomad, chopped and welded to the back of an industrial tiller.

Around 4:30pm we meet up with several expats at theShanghai American School (SAS) for the Friday eveningpub ride. This was an amazing rideAndy led us for along twisty ride, all on those little cement tractor pathsand narrow alleys. Uncountable turns, patches ofgravel, arching pedestrian bridges, tree nurseries,canals and back-alley after back-alley. We rode pretty

fast considering the conditions and the locals seemedto get a kick out of watching these funny-dressedlaowais race through the village, lots of hooting and thumbs-up gestures. Eventuallywe came to a super crowded pedestrian intersection were vendors baked, roasted andsold peanuts, cookies, sweet cakes, meats and countless other snacks. The pub wason the second floor of a classically curved-eaves building but, as we had started lateand the sky was now darkening, we didn't have time to go inside today. They pointedout the corner window overlooking the intersection and pedestrian bridge over thecanal as the location of the usual Friday pub-ride table.

Having suffered severe food shortages in the recentpast, plumpness is commonly considered a desirable

trait in children here. But combined with changingdiets and a more sedate lifestyle, this fondness forflabbiness is rapidly bringing about a new health crisisin ChinaChildhood obesity. I did not see a lot of that,but one shop keeper brought out a really unfortunatelyfat infant to proudly display. Sad.


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have bike ramps!

Even the eggs have serial

numbers!

What are these numbers?they're all over the place

This fellow has got a good sized

load.

Unpacking, at the start

We get pretty close tohome before dark, butjust after sunset there'sa loud 'wishhing'soundAndy somehowflats BOTH of his tires

while descending abridge. There's alwayssomething unexpected

popping up in China.

The Inaugural Shanghai 200km Brevet

Saturday, April 14, 2007

Early Saturday morning Joe and I ride out to the brevetstartfarther down Bei Qing, then turn and head deepinto the business district. Past banks and subwaystations, high-fashion stores, Joe points out "Bubba'sTexas-Style Bar-B-Que and Saloon" on Hongqiao Lu("Lu" means "Rd"). Across the street is what looks likea half-size replica of the U.S. White House. Lots ofbankers and business executives bicycling toworkactually, appearances may be misleading, aseven the guy busting up concrete by hand is dressedmore like a banker than a construction worker. But thelarge numbers of bikes parked at the bank, and the women cycling in heels, leads me

to believe bankers bike to work too. There are also plenty of guys biking to work withhard-hats onworking construction, or is that what people wear for bike helmetshere? Somebody has been selling roasted corn and I'm surprised at the cobs andhusks littering the marble steps and planted areas, but each morning the city sendsout hoards of sanitation workers who clean all that up in no time. Throughout thecity, and throughout the day you hear the clanging cow-bell of the "bone and ragman" on his utility trike picking up all forms of recyclables and compostables.

At the brevet start, near the Zhong Shan Metro Stationdowntown, we were soon joined by Xianshi Cuigreat,local interest! Then Damian Burke, Bernard

Kearsley-Pratt and Chris Torrens join us. Joe goes overthe procedures, hands out cue sheets and leads us off.


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Fresh-cooked breakfast, curbside.

[ Slideshow ]

Papa John's delivers, by bike.

Note the electric motorized-hubs.

We cycle back up Hongqiao Lu, through Zhuditown,past a guy biking down the road carrying a ten-footstep ladder, (upright!), under the freeway and to thefirst (unstaffed) control. Joe has a "Shell" gas stationindicated on the cue sheet. "Don't stop there for foodor water, though. In China, gasoline stations don't sell

those." I guess it doesn't make sense to themwhy would you buy food at a gasstation? Yuck! Most gas stations are "Sinopec". China only began allowing theforeign multinational companies to build stations in 2004, and Shell jumped in withplans to build thousands. Another trend Tibet would like to avoid?

In Zhuditown, and elsewhere in Shanghai, street-sidevendors sell fresh-cooked meals and roasted sweetpotatoes to passers by. They're making "youtiao" byrolling dough into a foot-long, half-inch-thick stick anddropping the sticks into frying oil. The dough puffs-upa bit like a donut (and may have a touch of honey init). They scoop these out of the oil and stand them upin a galvanized pail. I see some people buying these togo with their soup. At the same stall, they're cooking"Shaobing"circles of dough with sesame seeds thatare roasted inside a roadside oven. The chef lifts a lid from a hole on top of the oven,takes the dough into an upturned hand and sticks it to the sloping inside wall of theoven to cook. One option offered is to make a sandwich with two shaobings and ayoutiao in the middle. I go for the third deal: "jian bing"they cook a sort of thinsavory pancake or crpe spreading the batter in a big circle on the round griddleusing a special tee-shaped jianbing spatula, crack a brown egg to cook on top, addcilantro, onions and chow-chow sauce, then break a youtiao in half on top, roll all thatup like a burrito or dosa, fold it, cut in half and drop into a clear bag. [ Slideshow ] I'm

not sure how much I'm supposed to pay, but one yuan (about twelve cents, U.S.)seems to cover it.

Joe instructed us to disregard the cue sheet after thefirst control, due to some last-minute road closing, andsimply double-back the way we came to Zhuditownand then make our way to Rendezvous Caf, "Adrianknows the way." (Gulp) Uhr, I guess I did it onceIcan find my way back to Zhuditown and then Bei QingHighway, but miss the turn to Rendezvous Caf.


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Up the path along Bei Qing

Highway

Three wheelsno 150cc limit.

30,000 megawatts by 2020

Up the path along Bei Qing

Highway

By now we're separated, and I decide I've gone WAY toofar up Bei Qing highway so I turn around and head eastagain on the wide ped/bike/scooter paththough theyhave paths on both sides of the highway, two-wheelertraffic flows in both directions on both paths. You haveto be aware that many bicycles have been retrofit with

electric motors built into the front hub, so they whiz byat up to about 20mph silentlymuch quieter thanhybrid carsbut they counter the quiet by blowing thehorn, constantly.

Motorcycles have long been limited by law to 150cc(some skirt the law by adding a side-car, to make it athree-wheeler and no longer subject to the 150cclimitation). Now China is replacing all the gasoline-fueled scooters with electric and LPG/propane fueledmodels. The LPGs are less costly to operate thangasoline and seem to produce a much less foulexhaustnice when you're sitting behind a couple at ared light.

While riding the brevet, we felt a lot of headwindsweeping across that flat plain. I didn't see any windturbines while in China, maybe because visibility was solow. Shanghai has plans to install thirty-thousandmegawatts of wind turbines by 2020. Analysts say thatChina's geography is well suited to wind power andcould provide over three million megawatts.

The big blue trucks apparently need to let the air hornwail almost continuously, lest the built-up air pressuremake the whole thing explode? In Asia, horn honkingdoesn't imply anger or threat, just "I'm here". As inIndia, it all seems chaotic except the one rule takenseriously is: "don't hit anybody, no matter what theydo." A large vehicle blasting his horn and bearingdown upon a cyclist is cause for alarm in the west, butnot here, as the driver is operating on the principle thatif you're moving in front of his path NOW, you'll besomewhere else by the time he arrives at that spot.This, of course, is true assuming that the cyclist does

not stop. But the driver is prepared to stop, should thecyclist fail to movea preparedness that Andy hastested repeatedly, while his cycling buddies close theireyes and cringe.

In India, the heavy trucks are made by "Tata"the huge family-owned conglomeratethat now dominates communications and technology in India and recently made newsby taking over a huge British steel firms, one of the largest in the world. Tata paints all


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Xianshi grabs a swallow of tea at

Luzhi.

Curbside bicycle repair service:

A bucket of sudsy water, pump

and tools.

Ticketed!

those trucks school-bus yellow. In China, big trucks are all painted blue, though theappear to be manufactured by a wider variety of suppliers, including "Porland".

People are very friendly and they are amazed by therecumbent bicyclethey pull up alongside and drivereal slow, etc. Sometimes they look expressionless,especially the older folks (I'm told many of the older

folks were raised to be wary of foreigners), but I say "NiHao" and they get a kick out of that. Some speakEnglish, most do not, but when they recognize anEnglish speaker they call out "Hello!" or "Hello! How areyou?" They giggle at any response because "Hello! Howare you?" is just about the extent of their Englishjustas "Ni hao ma?" is about all the Mandarin I know.

The two-wheeler paths are very much shared andmulti-use. Today I'm faced with a giant yellow steam-roller coming down the path, head-on, but there's room to squeeze by on his left.There's always something unexpected popping up in China. Now that I think about it,a steam-roller is technically a two-wheeler, isn't it? I think his engine displacement isover the 150cc limit though. Encountering the rest of the brevet group barrelingwestward, I do a 180 again to chase them. By the time I catch up to Xianshi, theothers are barely visible and a twelve year-old school-boy, in uniform with book-sack, isriding right along with us on his mountain bike showing no sign of difficulty withmatching our pace.

Bang-bang-bang! Gunshots? No, firearms are banned in China. Aha, fireworksis ita holiday? Joe shrugs, "Somebody is always setting off fireworks in China."

China is where Critical Mass got its name. Ted White's

1992 documentary, "Return of the Scorcher" looks atbike culture in China, The Netherlands, Denmark, andthe U.S.. In the film, New York bicycle designer GeorgeBliss, describing the flow of bicycle and car traffic inChina, used the term "Critical Mass" to describe theway informal turns-to-cross at intersections werenaturally negotiated and shared where traffic signalswere relatively uncommon. San Francisco commuterspicked up on this term as a better moniker for their"commute clot" movement.

China does have traffic lights nowmany very modern

styles with separate signals for bicycles. In the densedowntown areas there are some streets where bicycletraffic is prohibited and many intersections wheretraffic is controlled by a uniformed police officer ratherthan a signal light. I did see one officer writing ticketsto cyclistsprobably for running a red light.


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Workers in one of countless smalltree nurseries. New roads are

going in all over the place, and

every one of them gets

landscaping, shrubs and

ornamental trees.

Trees are bound with ropesbest

explanation: makes them grow

taller and denser

Outside of the city, the land is all flat, dusty and devoidof interesting geographic details. The highwaystretches out full of cars and blue trucks with guardrails separating it from the two-wheeler lanes on eitherside. I had hoped the air would get better, but it neverreally did and made my decision to wear contact lenses

a poor one. There are interesting things to see thoughe.g., a Dutch windmill standing inexplicably at onefarm-road intersection, with no sign to explain itsreason for being there. There's always somethingunexpected popping up in China.

There are frequent tree nurseries. Shanghai is buildingnew roads at a stunning pace, and each road is linedwith ornamental trees, landscaping and hedges. Inthe recent past the countryside was stripped of treesfor firewood, the booming Chinese furniture exports,etc.. Since 1990 logging restrictions have been inplace, trees are being replaced in China, but a heavyappetite for forest materials is now being satisfied bystriping forests in Russia and other countries in theregion.

One of the blokes in the fast group has suffered acrash. They've finished cleaning up the wounds andthe bright red spots where he's lost skin and flesh fromhis arm, leg and cheek glisten in the dim Chinesesunlight. He's ready to go, and they quickly disappearahead of us again.

Lots of cars are slowing down to look at therecumbent. Lots of "thumbs up" gestures.Occasionally we have to leave the two-wheeler lane dueto bad surface, or a guy drying cut vegetation in thepath. When that happens, we just move on out into thehighway lanes, and nobody seems to mind. Looking foran indicated turn, we meet up with a bunch of youngrecreational cyclists finishing up a break. They're alsoheaded to Suzhou. It turns out they're students fromFudan University in Shanghai and there's at least fiftyof them. A couple of them even have racing bikes and

"Fudan U" cycling jerseys. They gather round, I takepictures of them and they take pictures of me, therecumbent and the egg-beater pedals.

On the way to Suzhou, a few more types of vehicles join in the mix, including anenclosed three-wheeler that's bigger than an Indian auto-rickshaw and some cargohaulers made from a large motorcycle front-end welded to a cart or small truckrear-end. I guess that's what they did with their old motorcycles when the law


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restricted two-wheelers to 150cc. There's always something unexpected popping upin China. After cycling around some kind of official check-point (toll-booth? Internalpassport control? I dunno, I bypassed it.), I'm surprised to see sky scrapers on thehorizon. That must be Suzhou?

Just before the Suzhou control, Xianshi and I meet upwith the other guys having lunch. They've been to the

control and are about to head back to Shanghaiintothe stiff headwind. In a market store I pick up a bottleof water, bottle of green tea, bananas, apples and a jarof lemon wedges that have been preserved in salt.These salt-preserved fruits are common in this part of the world and the store hasrow-upon-row of endless varieties. The crystallized ginger ones are good, but I can'tread the labels and just grab the lemon wedges. You're probably only supposed to eatone or two at a sitting, but I gobble a bunchI guess I'm getting a good dose ofsodium and vitamin C. One trip to the men's roomthere's lots of toilet facilities here,but they're not free. Inside, an attendant takes your coin and hands you some paper.

An old woman with bad teeth is hanging around watching as Xianshi and I eat. Shemotions and says something in Mandarin toward the plastic bag of purchases I've setonto the ground and my feet while I fumble with my pannier zippers. Is she telling menot to litter? No, Xianshi translatesshe's interested in my plastic water bottle.Apparently she can collect some deposit for returning the empties, so I finish off mywater and tea and give her the empty bottles.

I swear I saw a Chinese Rastafarian trudging up the path, but didn't get aphotograph. There's always something unexpected popping up in China. In theseheadwinds, the aero position of the recumbent gives me a significant advantage overXianshi and I quickly open up a gap, stop and get a photograph of his approach. Ihate going home with nothing but pictures of people's back-sides. When I stopped to

change film and batteries, Xianshi got a big gap ahead of me, so when I came to the"turn right on road to the police kiosk" point on the cue sheet I was on my owndeciding if this was the correct road to turn. There's a police kiosk here, and abunched of caged dogs (for sale?) but the cue sheet says "to the kiosk", not "at thekiosk". How would I know if the road went TO a kiosk? In randonneuring, one isexpected to keep careful track of odometer readings and cue sheet distances, but Ilost track. At home, it's easy because the territory is so familiar. Overseas, it's more ofa challenge. I take the right, and the next left, which should take me back to thehighway, but it doesn't look right. I try turning left at the next intersection, but aftera few miles, and a large arch across the roadway sign announcing in Chinese andEnglish: "Obeying traffic regulations is a matter of life and death", the four-lanedivided highway ends where people are pushing bikes and motorcycles down anarrow path to a pedestrian bridge. They point towards the bridge when I ask"Shanghai zai nar?", but I don't think that's the brevet route, so I go back to theintersection and try going straight ahead instead of turning. You'd think a major citywith skyscrapers would stand out like a sore thumb on this desolate plain with so fewtrees, but I can't see a city skyline anywhere. At least once I think I see tall towers,but they turn out to be grain silos.


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Um, I think I missed a turn.

After crossing this plaza, theres an intersection of farmroads where I continue on the forward one. That roadsoon shrinks to one of those small, newly pavedconcrete tractor paths. We're close to ShanghaiMaybe Joe incorporated a bit of the Friday pub rideinto the brevet? Next, the tractor path ends beside a

complex of dwellings. There's some single-track thatcould be part of the pub route, but Joe wouldn't putthat on a brevet route. The little boy by the path andthe young man in the field are ignoring my presenceeven while the Akita by the road barks himself into afrenzy while I ponder the cue sheet. Turning back, I meet a family walking the pathatop the canal bridge. The daughter speaks some English and helps me find the rightdirections. Happy to be back on track, I roll down the pedestrian bridge sittingupright, then ease back into the seat, lift my feet up to the pedals, click-in with a snapand shove some speed into the wheels. A little boy walking up the path with hisgrandparents squeals with delight at this sight. I guess I am something unexpected

this time. It's fun riding a racing recumbent in China.The transliteration of Chinese characters in to Latin letters isn't precise. Even onconsecutive road signs, transliteration varies. For example, though the prior and nextsigns say "Bei Qing Lu", this one says "Bei Ching Lu". I'm desperate for familiarlandmarks and I think I've found onethe "KTV" buildingit looks different at night,with so many multicolored flashing lights. I think it's some kind of broadcast studio,but later learn KTV is a chain of Karaoke bars, or Karaoke bar fronts for illicit activitiesand a good place to get beat-up and/or robbed, I'm told. In any case, not a landmarkas they are numerous. A light rain begins to fall, and thankfully I start to see bannershanging from the street lamps reading "Forest Manor". I'm looking for the Christmaslight wrapped palm trees and Rendezvous caf when a voice across the street calls

out my nameit's Joe! He's at Papa John's Pizza and happened to catch sight of meas I passed the caf. We start to discuss the ride and I tell him that I rode withXianshi most of the wayIs he in yet? "No, buthere he comes now!"

Joe is surprised that we took so long to finish. It's a good thing I didn't detour toexplore the road-side attractions. I guess I should have warned Joe that back homeour RBA tells me "You're early" on the rare occasion that I finish a brevet with morethan an hour to spare.

Great ride, great adventure, plenty hours, nice weather, got lost, found my way back,and saw a lot of unexpected thingsthe perfect brevet. Wiped out, we go back toJoe's for soup, Joe gives me maps, helps me find the street for the hostel and I turn in

early.

On my Own

Sunday, April 15, 2007


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Joe and Susan at the Shanghai

Racquet Club

One of MANY walking tours.

Leader carries a flag, participants

get a cap.

After a brief morning walk, I meet back up with Joe andSusan who treat me to breakfast at the Rendezvouscaf and then take me to catch the SRC shuttle businto town. Today's mission: find and check into thehostel, buy a clean shirt, do laundry, e-mail, and food.I've just stepped out of the Portman Ritz-Carlton when

two young ladies approach hesitantly. "We're studentsand would like to practice English." We exchangepleasantries "bye-bye" and they point me in thedirection of the subway.

Next, I'm stopped by someone wanting to sell me a fake Rolex watch, then another,thenokay, I'll buy a watch so that I'll have a watch on my wrist and can tell them,"No thanks, I've already got one." Finding a bike shop, I browse the manycommuters, folders, hybrids, etc at great prices and expect to be descended uponby an eager floor salesman at any moment, but it doesn't happen. Theaggressiveness of the street hawkers is not reflected in the shop clerks. The nextstreet hawker snickers at my watch, "Ha! How much did you pay for THAT? Nevermind. Want to by a Mont Blanc pen? Cheapa-Cheapa!"

I don't understand this. These hawkers have learned a foreign language (English)that's not easyclearly they must be intelligent and educated. How is it thatthey're stuck hawking junk to tourists?

Asking around, I eventually find the metro station andmanage to purchase a (USD $ 0.60) ticket for "Line 2"to Nanjing Lu. I had read about crowded subways andautomatic glass doors installed to prevent pushycrowds from toppling people off the platforms, but I

saw no evidence of any of that. There seemed to beplenty of room, no automatic glass doors and no pushycrowds when I rode metro Sunday afternoon, norMonday morning.

Emerging from the subway, I find myself in "touristcentral". Tons of Asian tourists wearing red Nike caps are being corralled by theirwalking-tour leader, identified by flag and bullhorn.

And there's one guy who wants to know if I want to buy a shirt.

As a matter of fact, buying a clean shirt IS near the top

of my to-do list. I'd read that these guys will show upand lead you down tiny dark twisting alleys and uprickety flights of stairs to a hot little room wheretourists are rifling through piles of fake designer clothesheaped on tables. I think with the modern Chineseeconomic boom there are not too many tiny dark alleysleft, but he did lead me around a corner and into asecond floor shop where a Norwegian couple was


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Van Gogh is featured at the

Shanghai Museum

Two-wheelers downtown.

Nursery delivery

Mingtown Hiker's Hostel

pensively looking at clothes and an aggressivesaleswoman sold me two T-shirts and a silk robe for mywife. A couple other saleswomen tried to convince methat I needed belts, bags, etc but I declined. I did buy an MP4 player, as I'd lostmine just before the trip. "Thank you for shopping with us. We should buy you abeer." That sounds like a great idea, buy me a beer. So they lead me back downNanjing Lu to a hotel lobby where the shirt guy is sent for beer which, it turns out,

that I am buying, at a reasonable pricefor the U.S.. Okay folks, enough of this. "Youwant massage?" Sure, who doesn't? But what I need is a shave and haircut, who'sgot a straight-razor?

So they lead me back up Nanjing Lu and down anotheralley where welders are throwing sparks and droppingheavy things that go "clang!" and into a barber shopwhere they negotiate in Chinese with the barber."Charge him triple and give us half," is probably whatthey said, but it was still a deal compared to costs athome. He starts combing through my hair and

trimming it. "No, no, how can I explainwhat'sMandarin for 'bald'?" I rub my hands across my headmaking razor sounds, point to the bare skin on my hand and he understands. Bynow, these traveling salesgirls are making me nervous, so I keep my duffel bag at myfeet while the hot towel, shaving cream and razor are applied.

Okay, shirt, shave, haircutnow what? "Buy me aGucci bag" is suggested. Um, No thanks. I take duffelmy bag and set out in search of Mingtown Hiker'sHostel, eager to put some distance between me andNanjing Lu. One great thing about hostels is that, whilethey generally are located with convenient acces to

transportation and the local action, they seem to alsobe off-the-strip enough to avoid the tourist-hells likeNanjing Lu.

Room 310 bed 6, I'm assigned, but I find bed six is fullof clothes. Bed two is clean though, so I unload mystuff there and find I've lost the bag with the shirts androbe, but still have the MP4 player. I head out for awalkAWAY from Nanjing Luto explore and procure ameal. The hostel is just two or three blocks west of theWaibaidu Bridge over Suzhou Creek at north end of TheBund (the multistory stone 19th century buildings putup by the Japanese, European and American banks onthe waterfront along the Huang Pu River).


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Across the river is Pudong, and many modern andpost-modern towers, exemplified by the famous "PearlTower". A "Tourist Tunnel" connects the twosomekind of cable-car pulls pedestrians through aDisney-esque underground light show, but I didn'tcheck that out, preferring to walk the waterfront and

the neighborhood north of the Bund instead.

A flash of lightning, a clap of thunder and the hawkers that were pushing postcardsare suddenly possessed of umbrellas for salewow, how did they do that! At least it'ssomething useful, but the rain is so light that I don't bother. I've developed a newstrategy for dealing with hawkers: they know I'm not Chinese, but that doesn't mean Ispeak English, right? From now on, I'm Turkish. I just raise my hand and say "Hayir."Soft at first, and then forcefully if they persist. Then "alahaismarladik" (good-bye)."Hayir" is "No," I thinkor is it "yes?" No matter, either way, I do not speak English."Hayir. Hayir. Hayir!" I don't know if they believe me, it's hard to not let your facialexpression give away that you just understood what they asked, but if they just getthe message that they're wasting their time that's good enough.

I'm curiously eying a just below street level "footmassage" shop (there's thousands of these inShanghai; they say the best ones are run by blindpeople) when they invite me in. Fifty minutes for a fewbucks. Lying down on the massage bed next to threeother patrons in various stages of the fifty-minute footmassage, they set beside me a glass of some kind oftea, I think, but I'm not sureit might not even be adrink at all, so I don't touch it. There's a big TVmounted high on the wall in the center of the room for

the patrons to watch, and for the masseuse to twist herneck to see. I kick off my shoes and the lady takes away the stool suspending my legsto soak my feet in hot soapy (herb infused?) water, then wrap my feet tightly in warmtowels.

Propping my feet back up on the stool, she applies medicated soap and begins athorough scrubbing and a series of rubbing, kneading and beating that goes right upto the knee, including a grab-and-pull on each toe individually making a loud poppingsnap when the toe clears the hand. I've had some weird motor-nerve problem thathas caused muscle loss, mostly in my left arm, but my feet feel like there's not muchflesh there anymore either. I wonder if this is supposed to hurt, or if it's the lack ofnormal padding on my feet that makes it uncomfortable? Foot massage practitioners

say that tender spots in the feet reflect problems elsewhere in the body, which can betreated by working those spots. I think I've got a lot of spots that need working. Footmassage is said to improve ones mental health, reduce stress, boost circulation, andrelieve blood stagnation.


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Dumplings

Photo from TravelByFood.com

Skies were clearer on Monday.

KIte flying on the Bund's

riverwalk.

Now for supper: The dumpling shop up the road offersa variety of dumpling dishes and noodle dishes. I getdumplings filled with cabbage, red pepper and sesameoil. No forks herechopsticks! Concerned aboutdeforestation, the Chinese government is phasing outdisposable wooden chopsticks by levying a five percent

tax on them. Returning to the room at the hostel, I finda Korean guy has checked in and been assigned bedtwo. There's still clothes on bed sixgirl's clothes. Ibetter not move them and lie down, she might freakout if she comes back late at night and finds some grungy old man snoring in herbunk. We check with the desk, move me to bunk three. That settled, he's anxious toget out for a good Chinese foot massage. "Have you had one before," I ask? "All thetime." He says it's not supposed to hurt, so maybe I'm just tender, or maybe he's hadso many treatments that his feet are tough. I turn in early again tonight.

A Mission

Monday, April 16, 2007

I'm up early, so I head out to see what the city is like at4am. In the lobby, there's no one at the desk, butthere's somebody snoring on the couch. The door isopen, so I head out into the pre-dawn. The streetvendors are just bringing the oil up to a boil for today'sjian bings and stoking the ovens for Monday morningShaobings. The streets are beginning to fill with bike

and motor-scooter traffic.I walk through the north neighborhood and to thewaterfront by the Bund and join a pair of old men doingtheir morning backwards walking. Calisthenics are verypopular here, especially with older peopleyou see lotsof what looks like brightly-colored adult-sizedplayground equipment installed in public places andeverywhere people are propping a leg up on a rail tostretch their hamstrings. One of the old gentlemenbids us adieu and the one remaining leads me througha long series of repeated stretches moves. For a couple

of the more advanced stretches he motions for me to sit out. Other people arejogging or flying kites, and one guy rides up on a bicycle with a unicycle strapped onthe back. He parks the bike and proceeds to ride the unicycle around the waterfront.


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Morning dancing club warming upon the Bund's riverwalk.

Chinese YoYo

Kite flying on the Bund waterfront

UnicyclingUnloading the unicycle

At the north end of thewaterfront, bikes areshowing up ridden bypeople in brightlycolored "pajamas". Onebikes up with a

boom-box, puts in acassette and the danceclub begins theirwarm-up exercises.

After the sun came upthe day turned from cool to cold. I head back to thehostel for my jacket, passing through theneighborhoods north of the Bund again. In a smallpark lots of groups of older folks are gathered forvarious exercises. A group of men were twirlingBaoding Ballschrome plated metal balls, you hold acouple in one hand and manipulate your fingers tomake them twirl around one another. One guy handedhis to me to try and my hand immediately sank as theywere much heavier than I expected, which gave them a laugh. Several groupspracticed calisthenics, or dance accompanied by classical Chinese music on cassette.One small group of women were practicing swordplay.

Near the hostel, I stopfor a curb-side breakfastof jian bing. There arelots of food vendors on

this block. The nextblock west is all smallindustrial supply shops,one nothing but gages,some old, some new,some analog, somedigital. Lot's of bikes

and scooters in the streetits crowded here, but not as crowded as India. A portlyand jovial chef strutting his way down the street, dressed in white uniform and whitechef's hat, buys a zucchini from a street vendor then saunters over to the next vendorto jibe and cajole him while munching that raw zucchini like it was a fat cigar.


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Heading out in search of Quan Yin

Chinese bike lock.

The repair stand where I bought

locks.

George helping me out

Checking my e-mail, I find my wife has sent me justwhat I wanta mission: "Find me a Kwan Yin statue(Avalokiteshwara) or pendant." A what? I google it,The Great Firewall of China blocks Wikipedia, but Ifound out that in China, she's known as Quan (or Guan)Yin (or Lin). The girl at the desk finally understands

what I'm asking about, draws the Chinese charactersand tells me that I can find these at the Jade Buddhatemple or the Longhua Temple. She circles the templeson my map, offers that the two French girls in thelobby are heading to the Jade temple also and we cantravel together, but when I'm ready to go they're notaround and I'm not about to go stalking them, so I set out on my own, though itmeans crossing the dreaded Nanjing Lu.

(Other mission:) There's a particular kind of bicycle lockI hope to acquire while herethe circular sort thatpermanently attaches to the seat stays and immobilizesthe rear wheel when locked. Though they're standardequipment in Europe and Asia, they're very hard tofind in the U.S..

At another curbside "bike repair stand" (they just picka corner with a place to sit, set out pump and supplies,and voil instant small business), through a series ofpointing and gestures I'm able to communicate to theproprietor my intentions to purchase a lock. He motionsfor me to sit down, then to my surprise he hops on to amotor scooter and takes off. Wow, right in the middle of

this big city he can leave his repair equipment and notworry about thieves. After about ten minutes he's backwith locks and other supplies. I buy one lock, and thentry to indicate that I'd like to buy the other one too. Heimmediately shakes his head "no" while waving meaway, leaving me thinking: "How odd? I'm not allowedtwo, I guess," then I realize that he thinks I'm askingfor two-for-one. I pull out the cash, and he gladly sellsme a second.

The feared Nanjing Lu is crossed this time withoutincident, being careful to walk briskly and avoid eye

contact. A couple of blocks south I met an olderChinese gentleman named George. He was wearing a"Bear's" cap and told me that he is a "technologyconsultant" and used to live in New York. When I toldhim I was looking for breakfast and a shirt he showedme the best dumpling standsaid that these weremuch healthier than the others and then helped mebuy a T-shirt with Chinese calligraphy. Sean had


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"Dragon" is cool, but can't I get a

"mind your head" shirt?

Bamboo scaffolding

bought one with Chinese characters meaning "I have no money" when he wasteaching English hereprobably a good thing in the vicinity of Nanjing Lu, but I hadto settle for "Lng", the Chinese symbol for dragon.

The accent over the "" means that your voice shouldrise as you pronounce the vowelvery important, orelse you end up with an entirely different word and

meaning. I.e. it's not an "accent" but a graphicalrepresentation of the shift in tone. The other threepossibilities are voice dropping, voice dipping downthen up, or voice steady, each similarly depicted withthe appropriate "accent" mark above the vowel.

Then George told me that he had an English student,"Ms. Gu", who is divorced, would like to find a husband and move to America. "Um,I'm already married, George." "That's okay, I'll bring her by after workmaybe youknow somebody, or can ask around when you get home."

I said "bye-bye" to George, pulled out my map and

turn east toward the river then south again. On anelevated walk over the expressway I strike up aconversation with an older Chinese gentleman. Hewarns me that the merchants at the temple willruthlessly overcharge me and I must offer them onetenth of what they ask. He tells me, "You mustaccept!"

"Accept," I ask?

"Maybe that's not the best word. What does it mean, 'Accept'?"

"UmAgree," I say.

He laughs, "Oh no! Opposite! What's the best word?"

"Maybepersist?"

"Yes, yes, you must Persist!"

That settled, I asked about the recent history of Shanghai and China: how have thingschanged in recent years?

"It's much more open now. You can criticize the government."

I asked if protesting is allowed, but he seemed to not understand the word, so Iexplained: crowds with signs and maybe speeches. "Oh no, not that, but you cancriticize.".

"Oh, so letters to the editor at the newspaper then?"

"Sure," he said, and I nodded. Then he added, "of course, they won't print them."


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KFC is pretty big here.

Statues sold

At the temple

Temple, and LOTS of tourists

I find my way to Fuyou street and find myself in acrowd of tourists (including Americans and Europeans)and more walking tours, but thankfully here it's toocrowded for the street hawkers. Unfortunately, KFC ispretty big here. I swear I saw one labeled "AFC" inIndia. Asian Fried Chicken? American Fried Chicken? I

guess they don't want to have to explain what"Kentucky" means, in India? In China, since few speakEnglish (unlike India) nobody would ask.

The temple is approached through a mall-like tunnel of shops. I tell the firstsaleswoman who approaches that I 'm looking for Quan Yin statues and she tells methey don't have them. I think the shop owner hears this exchanged and probablywants to fire her.

The guy at the next shop shows me a really expensivejade statue, but I tell him I don't want jade. He takesme across to another shop and pulls out some beautiful

statues and quotes a price. "Oh no, too much." Justas the guy on the walkway says, the salesman punchesthe number into a calculator and hands it to me. Ipunch clear, enter a number a LOT lower and the gameis on. This isn't so terrible once you've got the hang ofit, and you get the hang of it pretty quickly walkingaround Shanghai streets where people try to sell you stuff you really don't want andthen start calling out drastically lower numbers as you walk away.

I end up buying a couple statues from him and, aftertouring the crowded temple grounds, a suitcase from

another shop, as I arrived in Shanghai toting only asmall duffel and now need to pack a few things, plussomeplace to put the stuff you can't carry on a planeany more (e.g. a tube of Chinese Crest toothpaste).

Okay, now I'm wearing a T-shirtnobody in Chinawears T-shirts. Even when doing manual labor, theydress formally. I'm also wearing Crocs (those oddplastic shoes) and a yellow cycling windbreaker, andI'm pulling a tourist suitcase. No way am I going acrossNanjing Lu like this, so I go northeast to the river andwalk up the waterfront. The sky is much clearer today,

but looking across the river the towers of Pudong arestill seen through Shanghai haze. Some cool ferryboats are taking on touristsmostly Asian tourists. I'malmost to Waibaidu Bridge when two young ladies,arm-in-arm approach and ask a few questions,practicing their English. Okay, their in a pair like thisfor mutual protection, right? That's a good sign,they're awfully friendly and tell me that they're


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around Fuyou Rd

Buy a pet turtle? They actually

did NOT try to sell me thesepet

turtle salesmen are after the

domestic market.

students, one acupuncture and the other Chinesehistory. I show the acupuncture student my bad armand ask if acupuncture can help. She says she can't but maybe her teacher could.Okay, good, that was an opportunity to set me up, but she didn't take it. I'm a bitwary, after the Nanjing Lu experience, but we chat about Shanghai, Chinesedynasties, etc., and everything seems cool. They tell me there's a Chinese Tea Festivaltoday and invite me to go. I missed yesterday's temple festival in the parka festival

would be great, so we set off into town.

They ask me about my wife, my family, do I havee-mail A few blocks later, as I'm carrying thesuitcase, one remarks, "You are so strong." Uh-oh, let'ssee, going back over the exchanges since we met I'vegotten "You're so clever", "You're so handsome" andnow "You're so strong"this is suspicious, but I 've readthat Chinese etiquette calls for rather gushingcompliments, so maybe it's all innocent, but we'll seeWe cross a street and walk into an open food-court type

area within a large building. Uh-oh, I was thinking ofan outdoor festival in a crowded park, but then there'sa sign for the Tea Festival reassuring me that it's all onthe up-and-up. The sign points to an elevator whichwe take to the mezzanine level, walk down a few doors,into a store where a traditionally attired lady shows usto a room. A small room (Uh-oh) and she brings us a tray with hot water, tea cups,jars of tea, and a photo album. We sit while she goes through the album with usteahistory, tea varieties, tea formalities, the emperor's tea etc.. I ask about the price50RMB per variety. She pours us cups and says we are to drink in three swallows. Um,okay, but I'm going to savor mine. "Don't you like it?" "It's wonderful, but I'm goingto sip it." Gosh it's hot in here. "Hey, do you feel somethingsomething right here,"

she asks pointing to the bottom of her chin? No, should I? They say you can buyanything without a prescription in China

Okay, that's it, this is freaking me out. I put 50 RMB cash on the table and make abreak for it. Half expecting a couple of Chinese gangsters to block the door, I hit themezzanine, elevator down, across the food court and back to the street withoutlooking back. Okay, what happened? Maybe nothing, maybe it was all innocent. Ormaybe that's just how it goes around herewhen you live in a place where you canonly earn in an artificially weak currency, and everything is priced sky-high fortourists, maybe what you do on weekends is find a tourist who'll treat you to tea. Inany case, I think I'll stick to talking to old men, even if they don't speak English.

I pack my stuff away at the hostel, get the skinny on how to get back to the airporttomorrow morning, and go for a walk. I need to ask somebody about what justhappened. The young man working the floor at the "5 Modern Mart" speaks greatEnglish, and is pretty relaxed. He just kind of shrugs and says something like somepeople are friendly and want to talk, others Okay, I'm relaxing. He's finishing off aquart of beer. "You can do that? at work?" "No problemI paid for it." "Heh, yeah,but even if you paid for it, you can't do that in America." There are two ladies and


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Metro signage

him working the shop. One's working the register, they don't speak English, and theywant him to keep an eye out for shoplifters. They're clowning around a lothe saysthe manager went to a meeting, so they're a bit more relaxed. The eggs have noserial number here, and they must be freshthey still have bits of hay and stuff stuckto them. He asks me about my wife, my family, do I have e-mailthe same questionsthat raised my suspicions with the girls earlierI guess it is innocent, that partanyway. He has one daughterthat's the "one-child policy". They say families are

very important in China. I guess that makes the questions about kids, especiallyforeigner's (multiple!) kids, more interesting.

He says he learned English by talking to tourists, and has a night job dealing antiqueswith his father. Day care is too expensive. I tell him young parents in Americastruggle with day care expenses too. He says cars are expensive, "I mean it costs SOmuch to buy a Ferrari or a Beamer." Uh, yeah, I feel your pain on that one. He's gotplans to open a tea house on a college campusa quiet place where students can goto study, hang out, drink tea and smoke. He takes a meal break and we go over tothe dumpling shop. No sooner have they brought us our food when I hear somebodyyell from the stairwell. Even though I don't understand a word of it, I don't have to

turn around to know it's the older of his two co-workers fussing that they need himback at the store. When we go back to the store, I clown around with them: pretendthat I'm shop-lifting, jump behind the counter and say to the customers (in English)"Welcome to 5 Modern Mart. How can I help you?", and stand by the front doorimitating the hawkers by holding up an apple and calling out "looka-looka! cheapa-cheapa!" Once again, I grow sleepy early and retire to the hostel.

As I walk into the hostel, there's somebody I recognize at the table by the doorit'sGeorge! I tell him I've already eaten, so Ms Gu comes by and we just sit there andtalk. George says she's got a career as a trade broker, so she doesn't need money,just a husband in AmericaAmerican or Chinese, doesn't matter, he can be crippled,have only one-leg, she'll take care of him. And if I can find somebody, she'll give me

"Senx". What?!? "Oh, I don't know the English worduhmoney for arranging thematrimony." Okay, well, I don't want any money, if somebody comes to mind, I'll letyou know. I explain that I have a plane to catch in the morning, they excusethemselves and I hit the sack early again.

Homeward

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Up around 4a.m. again, but this time I've got a place to

go. Pack my stuff, I think one of my roommates hasjust turned in for the night. I walk to the metro stop,even though it's not open yet I want to make sure Iknow where it is located. One more walk to the river,one more stop at a jian bing stand, one more Shanghaisubway ride.


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Maglev fast! 30km in 7minutes

Crossing Alaska on the way home.

The subway lets me out at the MagLev trainstationthe only commercial high-speed magneticlevitation line in operation anywhere in the world.Coach fare is US $ 7, first-class is US $ 14. I spring for1st-class, might as well spend a few of the RMB still inmy pocket. There is NOBODY else in 1st-class, and

1st-class is pretty much the same as coach, just two seats per row instead of three.The maglev leaves the station on its elevated railway. A digital display clicks off thesteadily building speed. When it hits 300km/h we're passing cars on the freewaybelow like they're standing stillseven minutes to cover the 30km to the airport.Silent, except for the "bang" as our train crosses paths with its twin headed the otherway.

Some last-minute gift shopping at the Shanghai airportrevealed that back-and-forth bargaining goes on evenhere. I asked the Japanese guy sitting next to me onthe flight from Tokyo about KAL flight 007 back in the1980s"Oh yeah, it was shot down right about wherewe are now." Back in Detroit, the homeland securityagent wants to know why I went to China, then whatdo I do for a living? "Software," I told him."Macintosh," he asks? "No, Linux." He points mypassport at me and says, "Macs run Linux."

On my first group ride back home, I noticed I had toreadjust to traffic in the states when the other riderscalled out "Car back". In China, you don't do that. For one thing, there's ALWAYS acar behind you. For another, it will blow the horn. And thirdly, it is of norelevancewhen you're in front, your only concern is what is in front of you. For

people behind you, getting around you is THEIR problem, not yours, no matter whatthey're driving. And it's everybody's responsibility to not hit anybody else. It allseems to work out, though the WHO's "World Report on Road Traffic Injury Prevention"ranks China the top country in the world for both road deaths (600/day) and roadinjuries. But then I think the U.S. isn't all that far behind (118/day) when you adjustper capita (0.3 billion vs 1.3 billion).


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