25 Jan 2009, Hong Kong

25 January 2009 Kathmandu to Hong Kong

By heck! You can’t half cover some miles when you’re not on a bike! We’re writing this from Northern Thailand – only 12 days after leaving Kathmandu. Our visas for Tibet were issued for starting 13 Jan, but they didn’t release them to us until 5pm on 16 Jan. They only gave us 13 days (starting from 13 Jan), so we had lost 4 days immediately, leaving us only 6 days to get to Tibet, cross it, then get onto the train to Hong Kong for 3 days. We had to chop down our itinerary by excluding altitude acclimatization days (so of course Andrew was very sick on the first night heading over 5,000m, and we both had a delayed reaction on our last afternoon in Lhasa which left us both bedridden for several nauseating and painful hours) and sightseeing time in Lhasa. We were very disappointed, but clearly just had to crack on and make the best of it! Although we had thought we would jump on our bikes intermittently and free-wheel down the huge descents between the Nepal border and Lhasa, in fact we had to totally dissemble the bikes into multiple small pieces in order to fit them into the vehicle – so there was no way we could rebuild them for cycling, which was a shame.

We had a fantastic guide called Tenzing (even we could remember that one!), who filled in many of the sizeable gaps in our knowledge on Tibet and Buddhism. Tibet is a staggering country – vast open, beautiful though barren spaces, with a relatively tiny population of little more than 2 million. The beauty of visiting in the winter, despite it being dastardly cold, is that tourists are few and Tibetan pilgrims are many. So much of our time was spent watching the comings and go-ings of the pilgrims; their prostrating, yak butter candle lighting, offerings, crawling under shelves of scriptures for luck (cue another immature fit of the giggles from Andrew) etc etc. The women are wonderful: fiercesomely strong and brusk – shoving you roughly (though not unfriendly) out of the way if you’re being too slow to scale the ladder-like steps up and down to the temples. Often we saw ancient women, bent almost in half with walking sticks approaching these ladders, then scooting up them at great speed!

As is often the case, Andrew’s height is a great ice-breaker and wherever we went people laughed uproariously with him (at him?) which meant we had lots of fun with people. Guttingly, we haven’t got many photos of the Tibetans to share with you – we would chat with them, then ask if they would mind us taking a photo and they (almost) always refused. Fair enough – many believe that their soul will be taken by the camera, so I can’t blame them for refusing. But it’s a tragedy not to be able to share their faces with you all and we are very sad not to have photos for memories. Many tribal people travel to Lhasa during the winter on pilgrimage (less busy in the fields at this time of year), so you see all different types of stunning traditional costume from the different regions, amazing hair decoration and jewellery. Everyone was incredibly friendly and smiley, despite the fact that since the trouble in March last year, the Chinese military presence is oppressive, with police in riot gear with rifles on every corner, and soldiers with rifles on every roof top.

We visited several monasteries en route including the incredible Potala Palace, but also the summer palace of the Dalai Lama which was perhaps the most interesting of all – the only place in China with a permitted image of the current Dalai Lama.

With real regret at having had such a rushed visit to Tibet, but so delighted to have had the opportunity to see it at all, we boarded the famous Sky Train from Lhasa to Guangzhou, just 100km from Hong Kong. We shared a carriage with 2 lovely Tibetan ladies (one of whom, to our total fascination and amazement, spent the first 26 hours asleep in her bunk – no toilet visit, no food, no water!!!???) and settled in for 56 hours of train travel. For the first 24 we passed through extraordinary wilderness and were lucky enough to see wild antelope, yak and pilgrims hundreds of miles from Lhasa prostrating their way there (this involves taking 1 to 3 steps forward, then lying full length in the road with hands outstretched above the head, then getting up again – repeat until you reach Lhasa. A variation is the sideways prostration – you’ve got it – you take 1 step sideways, then prostrate sideways across the road – repeat until you reach Lhasa – this must take several weeks/months longer!). Our guide told us that some come from so far away that it takes 6 months to reach Lhasa. They carry nothing with them at all, but rely on alms from passers-by (few and far between) to survive. We will never think of endurance sport in the same way again!

Again, we passed over 5,000m. The train runs for over 400km on perma frost and oxygen is pumped into the carriage for the first 24 hours. We know that the Sky Train has been controversial – for the impact on the environment and for the ease of access that it gives the Han Chinese to come to Tibet. But all the Tibetans we spoke to were enjoying the access it gave them to mainland China and were mostly using it for going to University, visiting friends and, we presume, getting work. Environmentally, it is clear to see just how incredibly delicate the ecosystem of Tibet is – but from the window we saw that a fence is erected just a few metres either side of the train tracks (which themselves run alongside existing power lines and the road) and there is absolutely no damage beyond that line. Within the fence line there are grids made of small stones that enable grasses to take root alongside the rail tracks once more.

We had been advised to take our own food on board as the restaurant car serves over-priced nasty food, so armed with masses of packets of noodles (boiling water provided at all times), buns and sweeties, we weren’t going to lose weight on this part of the trip! Gradually the scenery changed and we went through some vast cities, but the constant theme of China is the incredible on-going building of infrastructure: roads, railways on stilts, tunnels etc.: engineering feats that couldn’t help but impress. As we approached Guangzhou on the third day, we counted down the hours with increasingly grim faces as we wondered how on earth we would face trying to move all our gear off the train: 2 bikes (all packaged up and wrapped in plastic sheeting), 2 pairs of wheels and 3 enormous laundry bags weighing at least a tonne each, with all our pannier bags and tent etc inside. It had taken 4 of us (us, the guide and driver) to get it all onto the platform in Lhasa – how were we ever going to manage on our own?

At last we arrived, braced ourselves, and started the long struggle to exit the train and the station. Much staggering and cursing and a nasty cut on Andrew’s finger later, we reached a place where porters can help. I don’t think we’d have got much further otherwise!! By some sort of a miracle, our porter helped us to locate a random hotel around 10 minutes jog from the train station, from where a bus to Hong Kong departs. We had arrived in the train station at 6.10pm and astoundingly were on the last bus to Hong Kong before 7pm! We could scarcely believe we’d achieved it. We still faced 2 painful customs stops where we had to unload all the gear again, walk it through customs and load it all back onto the coach once more, but we were almost there.

By 10pm, we were zooming around Kowloon in our coach with our noses pressed to the windows in awe at the sheer mass of humanity that fights for space in Hong Kong! I know they say it’s full of skyscrapers – but it really is full of skyscrapers! Neck-achingly high, they enable this relatively small surface area to accommodate millions! I have to say, this is the last place to be in case of natural disaster – tidal waves, earthquakes etc would have unprecedented consequences in Hong Kong.

We found ourselves unceremoniously dumped off the bus down a back alley, and proceeded to be refused a lift by several taxi drivers (what do you mean ‘too much luggage’?). Then, just as has happened before, in our most dire hour we were rescued by an angel – this time in the shape of a Chinese version of Kojak, who had a big taxi and a bigger smile and spoke to us in comedy Chinese-English. He was fantastic, and dropped us right by one of the enormous apartment blocks in Kowloon that is filled with guest houses. No sooner had Andrew’s feet touched the pavement than a motherly woman had grabbed him, a bike and a laundry bag of luggage and was scuttling towards the service elevator. Giggling nervously, we sped after her and the next thing we knew we were checked into a tiny but pristine room in a smart, clean apartment guest house. We collapsed in an exhausted heap and laughed at the shock of the last few hours. We couldn’t believe we’d actually made it to Hong Kong, and we were also suffering from dramatic culture shock having last been in Tibet, then 3 days cocooned in a train carriage, before being launched into the mayhem and breathtakingly modern commerce of Hong Kong.

Too wired to go to bed, we headed out into the bustling streets for our first Kentucky Fried Chicken in Hong Kong. Andrew was in fast food heaven!

Our plan, as you know, had been to try to get new Chinese visas here in Hong Kong so that we could re-enter and cycle down from Yunnan province into Northern Laos. However, we hadn’t reckoned on Chinese New Year, and the first thing we did on our first morning in HK was to find out if the visa services were on holiday for the festival. We were told the soonest we would get a visa would be in 6 days time (usually possible in 24 hours, for a price), and it would cost us ₤150 each. Decision made – we’ve spent so long waiting for visas in Kathmandu that we have felt increasingly detached from the true focus of this journey – the cycling. Plus, accommodation alone in HK blows our daily budget, let alone food and drink etc. So we decided we would just buy flights to Bangkok and directly on to Chiang Mai, which is what we would have done from Kathmandu if the Tibet option had fallen through. That decision made, we headed to Hong Kong Central to explore.

We linked 2 recommended walks of HK from the Lonely Planet guide book and proceeded to wander all over Hong Kong for the next 10 hours. By the end of that, our legs were aching and we were both a good inch shorter, but felt we had seen and done everything that we really wanted to in Hong Kong. From the Star Ferry to the slick elevated walkways (ingenious) and hilarious escalator that takes people from the centre of town half way up ‘The Peak’ – an otherwise sweaty and panting yomp. We took the tram up to the Peak, then walked back down through lovely gardens at eye level with the skyscrapers. We explored the shopping malls and the back street markets, the Buddhist temples with their huge incense coils (instant headache material for Tracy who’s turn it was for chronic giggles as she watched 2 earnest tourists lighting the wrong end of their incense sticks) and many lovely gardens that occupy the spaces between the stunning and uber-modern skyscrapers. We had a whale of a time! By the end of the day though, we had seen enough commerce to last us at least another 3.5 months! So the next day we got up early and bought the flights we needed, and left Hong Kong in the late afternoon to fly to Thailand. Hong Kong was a brilliant experience – somewhere we both have always wanted to see, but don’t need to re-visit. The sheer wealth and high fashion that surrounds the city is overwhelming. We saw Starbucks everywhere, all the major fashion houses and even M&S, restaurants, smart hotels, big smart cars, modern transport and cleanliness everywhere as well as permanent electricity! How so much commerce can be maintained is staggering – how are there enough shoppers, with enough money, to keep the whole thing afloat? It seems incredible to us in our smelly clothes (oh for a new outfit!) surviving on ₤10 a day each (less most of the time). And the contrast with the countries we have visited so far is so striking that it’s almost painful. But what a thing to see!

The glorious thing about airports is that they provide trolleys! So moving our clobber about was nothing like the hideous experience of traveling on buses and trains with the bikes. The truth is that, on the bikes, with them fully loaded up, we are incredibly mobile and liberated. With the bikes in multiple pieces that all need carrying, we are a dinosaur on the move. All we want now is to get back onto the bikes and to cycle. Once in Chiang Mai, we build the bikes, and that (hopefully) is that until we reach Ho Chi Minh. We can hardly wait to get the cycle tour back on the road again. The last 2 or 3 weeks have been staggering, fascinating and the opportunity of a lifetime – worth every minute. Stood in front of the Potala Palace, speechless, Andrew finally found the words: “I really never thought I’d see this in my lifetime – and we’ve seen the Taj Mahal too!”.