China. The Middle Kingdom. The world’s most populated country. Sizewise the 3rd biggest on the planet. A place with never ending diversity as it comes to everything from culture and history to nature and climate. China is a whole world in itself. One I’ve never even set foot in before, know embarassingly little about – and whose language(s) I don’t speak a word of.
Sounds like made for a good bike ride – right?
After a chaotic ride to the border, I arrived to get my Kyrgyz exit stamp just in time not get turned down at the door. The day I entered China was the last one the borders were open at all, before they closed completely in favour for the Chinese national holiday & ‘The Golden Week’.
When you’re limited to never moving any faster than your legs peddle, timing can sometimes be tricky – to say the least. This time though, everything truly worked out for the best.
The border into China has a reputation. And it’s not the most flattering one of those. After all the headaches of crossing borders in Central Asia, I was a bit nervous about this one. Apparently – the Chinese customs was even stricter than the ones of the hardcore bureaucracies I’d already been struggling so much with.
In the end, this would not turn out to be true (for me). The crossing did take like 10 hours in the end, but they were only 10 slow hours, not difficult ones.
The first thing that happened as I reached the initiating Chinese border point was that a guard stripped me off my passport. This is standard. Every foreigner who shows up at this border, has his or her passport confiscated. Passports are then handed over to a waiting taxi driver, and the only way to get it back is to pay him for a + 100 km transport to the actual customs spot.
I still have never really gotten a proper explanation as to why this particual border area is so sensitive, but there is simply nothing you can do about it. Do you want to get into China? Do you want to see your passport again? Ok then. Shut up, pay for that overpriced taxi ride – and you will.
True maffia style.
At the border I met the French cyclist Peps, and together with a couple of backpackers we went with the taxi driver who were holding all of our passports hostage. What could have been a couple of hours drive ended up taking just shy of forever. This due to everything from repeating arguments about prices to waiting for the controllers at some military checkpoint to finish their 2.5 hour long lunch break.
When at last, we got dropped off at the customs, we were all pretty tired – but nowhere near relaxed. I mean, sitting in the back of a taxi is only that demanding. Getting pass customs officers though, that’s a whole other story. This was where the actual hassle would take place.
…Or so we thought. In reality, this would turn out to be the smoothest customs since crossing into Turkey (of course, with the exception of Kyrgyzstan).
After all the stories I’ve heard about this border, with people having everything from their chain tools to Swiss knives taken – I was ready to argue my case, play dumb and do some serious kissing up in order to get my stuff across the border. But noone cared about us at all.
In the end we just had to make a quick x-ray scan of our panniers, and I don’t even think anyone was watching the monitor as they went through. So 10 minutes after filling out the declarations forms, Peps and I were standing by the door to exit the building. Still with everything from pepper spray to fresh fruit in possesion. Peps even still had his pretty impressive stash of cannabis on him.
‘Do you think this really could be it?’
‘I have no idea. But let’s go before any of them change their mind!
And we were out.
Still I had just known Peps for a few hours. We had both had our completely different paths up until here. But right then and there – we were companions celebrating like life long friends.
China. From our front door to China. That his was in France and mine in Sweden didn’t matter. We had both gone through deserts and over mountains. Both been fighting ice cold blizzards and frying under tormenting sun. We had made it. China. We had cycled to China.
China. China, China, China.
Say it enough times and even the name starts to seem just as absurd as the ride there.
We were both childishly excited, and laughted, shouted and danced (yes, of course you can dance on a bicycle) our way to the road that would eventually lead us to our first city – Kashgar. After a good night of camping, we started off our first full day in China. And this was a particularly good one to have company.
The Chinese made sure to give us a proper welcome to the country
Can’t even remember the last time I rode a road smooth like this
Peps – the ornithologist – in his element
My first few days in China could make up a book in itself. But I’ll keep it short.
Kashgar, Xinjiang. This is China. But still not really. For me it was a whole new world – but at the same time I still had one foot in Central Asia. This is Uighur region. Where Uighur people live. Speaking – and living Uighur. This is a muslim people with their very own culture and history. The only thing that they really have to do with China, is that they happen to live within it’s borders.
Riding into Kashgar. A lot of Uighur – and a tiny bit of China
For me this was the perfect introduction to the country. Coming in from Kyrgyzstan, there was so many things just screaming China. But still not. Still I could get by with using my Turkish, Uzbek & Kirgiz vocabulary – as Uighur is also a Turkish language. Still there was plov and lagman served as the main meals. Still I felt at home.
Kashgar night market. A hungry cyclist’s dream.
Staying in one of the youth hostels, I ended up spending a couple of more days than planned. Meeting up old friends from Central Asia, and making new ones travelling in the opposite direction. This was a good time.
Once the Kashgar people were also cycling. Now they have upgraded.
Sold outside a pharmacy. I wonder for what they’re used?
A lot of the times I feel kind of like my mind is falling behind my movement. Constantly there are so many new impressions and experiences. And before I’ve had the chance to wrap my head around the first one, the second and third have already come and passed.
In hindsight I felt like the time I spent stationary in Kyrgyzstan was so good for me. It give me time to actually digest what had been going on the last couple of months. My head had had time to catch up with reality, and I was entering China with what I can only describe as a clean mind.
Instead of thinking back on what actaully happened yesterday, the day before that – or even last week. I was now in the present. Completely in the experience – as it happened. I don’t think I had really realised it before, but in Kashgar I could really tell that it was a long time ago since I truly could do just that.
Now. I just had to start cycling.
Fredrika