April 9th: bicycle excursion towards beachdom
[ posted by mcdeviltoast ]
Day 205
Today, Heather and I ventured out on bikes to find the ocean. Presumably, if we reach the river and follow it east, we'll get there. The day was hazy, overcast, and a little windy. There is a road we knew for certain led to the river but it would have been backtracking from where we started, so we rode out and tried the most promising-looking paved road parallel to it. This led us to a series of little villages, factories and switchbacks.
Haimen prides itself as the cleanest city in China, but it's dependent on where you put the city limits. Ponds and cropland overrun with garbage were at every turn. It's like the Chinese are aware of the landfill concept, but not exactly how to put it into practice. The modus operandi must be "fill the land" with garbage. Great blue trucks carrying coal and sand trundled by, stirring up dust for us to choke on.
As much as we penetrated into the countryside, there seemed to be an invisible barrier that kept us from the river. Roads would seem to go there, then chicken out, or were stopped by gates and walls of factories. As we snaked along a chicken plant, a little rain sprinkled down. When I was young, I loathed getting rained on, it seemed like such a failure. It was like a pie-in-the-face from nature. Now, I take in stride as part of the adventure. Once you're wet, you can't really get any wetter.
Th bumpy dirt road we were on took us past some water buffalo lounging in a paddy. As I took pictures, Heather noticed the road at last joined us up with the river road. Finally! The sprinkling ceased and we biked past more coal factories and a canal port. We pulled off and fashioned a picnic up on the levee of cheese, crackers, pepperoni and mustard.
We were joined by a tiger-striped toad, then another, then another. Small wild creatures are only cute until they really start to outnumber you. The rain came back, this time with a vengeance. We hurriedly packed up our picnic, laughing and shrieking, tumbling off the levee vainly searching for shelter. We hailed one of the blue trucks and Heather asked him if he could take us out of the rain. He nodded, loaded our bikes in the back, drove us back to the coal factory and delivered us under a big corrugated awning.
We thanked him as he drove away, and as we waited for the rain to let up, I discovered a woman whose house was also the coal office. She invited us in, bade us sit on her bench. She asked Heather questions, the usual stuff, like if we were American and where did we teach and such. The rain paused and we set out again, thanked our brief hostess for her kindness, abandoned the notions of reaching the beach. Rain and wind had dropped the temperature some, and we weren't exactly dry.
Pedaling along the river road, we now saw why we had difficulty reaching it before. A constant string of factories and processing plants lined it, one after another, with no room nor reason for a through-way. One place looked intriguing, with a grand gate and some garden sprawl. A vast parking lot, two murals and idling shuttle bus gave it the look of an amusement park. Heather could only make out the characters for "Green Dragon" and "Park." She inquired some chaps who emerged from an office and they handed her a brochure. It was a cemetery and mausoleum, although the entrance didn't exactly convey a sense of reverence.
We pedaled on and got to the point at the end of the known road, tried a second stab at the picnic. We hid behind the big stone monolith, but the wind came from all directions. Soon we had to endure sand particles with our edam slices.
A group of kids and adults were out in the reeds, carrying a plastic bag and poking the mud here and there. Our curiosity took us out to them and found they were collecting crabs. One man showed us proper crab-spotting and rooting technique with a stick, though we have neither fondness nor taste for the little buggers.
Cold from damp and wind, we caught a cab back into town, treated ourselves to some Bailey's and coffee, watched "Shark Tale" and rested from the ride. Later on, we ventured out for DVDs and then tree dumplings.
The dumpling place really shit the bed tonight. We ended up waiting roughly 40 minutes for a single order. The girl had given them to another table, and the other table neither ate them, nor told her they didn't order it, nor generally paid attention to anything outside of their conversation and cigarettes. What amount of oblivion does it take to not even acknowledge something new and unwanted on your table? Perhaps it's a "saving face" thing, but more and more, it's seeming like an excuse for extreme sloth and apathy.
Rhys, Jeni, Heather and I all squeezed onto the bed and watched "The Life Aquatic" (another fine Wes Anderson film) and then retired.
Today, Heather and I ventured out on bikes to find the ocean. Presumably, if we reach the river and follow it east, we'll get there. The day was hazy, overcast, and a little windy. There is a road we knew for certain led to the river but it would have been backtracking from where we started, so we rode out and tried the most promising-looking paved road parallel to it. This led us to a series of little villages, factories and switchbacks.
Haimen prides itself as the cleanest city in China, but it's dependent on where you put the city limits. Ponds and cropland overrun with garbage were at every turn. It's like the Chinese are aware of the landfill concept, but not exactly how to put it into practice. The modus operandi must be "fill the land" with garbage. Great blue trucks carrying coal and sand trundled by, stirring up dust for us to choke on.
As much as we penetrated into the countryside, there seemed to be an invisible barrier that kept us from the river. Roads would seem to go there, then chicken out, or were stopped by gates and walls of factories. As we snaked along a chicken plant, a little rain sprinkled down. When I was young, I loathed getting rained on, it seemed like such a failure. It was like a pie-in-the-face from nature. Now, I take in stride as part of the adventure. Once you're wet, you can't really get any wetter.
Th bumpy dirt road we were on took us past some water buffalo lounging in a paddy. As I took pictures, Heather noticed the road at last joined us up with the river road. Finally! The sprinkling ceased and we biked past more coal factories and a canal port. We pulled off and fashioned a picnic up on the levee of cheese, crackers, pepperoni and mustard.
We were joined by a tiger-striped toad, then another, then another. Small wild creatures are only cute until they really start to outnumber you. The rain came back, this time with a vengeance. We hurriedly packed up our picnic, laughing and shrieking, tumbling off the levee vainly searching for shelter. We hailed one of the blue trucks and Heather asked him if he could take us out of the rain. He nodded, loaded our bikes in the back, drove us back to the coal factory and delivered us under a big corrugated awning.
We thanked him as he drove away, and as we waited for the rain to let up, I discovered a woman whose house was also the coal office. She invited us in, bade us sit on her bench. She asked Heather questions, the usual stuff, like if we were American and where did we teach and such. The rain paused and we set out again, thanked our brief hostess for her kindness, abandoned the notions of reaching the beach. Rain and wind had dropped the temperature some, and we weren't exactly dry.
Pedaling along the river road, we now saw why we had difficulty reaching it before. A constant string of factories and processing plants lined it, one after another, with no room nor reason for a through-way. One place looked intriguing, with a grand gate and some garden sprawl. A vast parking lot, two murals and idling shuttle bus gave it the look of an amusement park. Heather could only make out the characters for "Green Dragon" and "Park." She inquired some chaps who emerged from an office and they handed her a brochure. It was a cemetery and mausoleum, although the entrance didn't exactly convey a sense of reverence.
We pedaled on and got to the point at the end of the known road, tried a second stab at the picnic. We hid behind the big stone monolith, but the wind came from all directions. Soon we had to endure sand particles with our edam slices.
A group of kids and adults were out in the reeds, carrying a plastic bag and poking the mud here and there. Our curiosity took us out to them and found they were collecting crabs. One man showed us proper crab-spotting and rooting technique with a stick, though we have neither fondness nor taste for the little buggers.
Cold from damp and wind, we caught a cab back into town, treated ourselves to some Bailey's and coffee, watched "Shark Tale" and rested from the ride. Later on, we ventured out for DVDs and then tree dumplings.
The dumpling place really shit the bed tonight. We ended up waiting roughly 40 minutes for a single order. The girl had given them to another table, and the other table neither ate them, nor told her they didn't order it, nor generally paid attention to anything outside of their conversation and cigarettes. What amount of oblivion does it take to not even acknowledge something new and unwanted on your table? Perhaps it's a "saving face" thing, but more and more, it's seeming like an excuse for extreme sloth and apathy.
Rhys, Jeni, Heather and I all squeezed onto the bed and watched "The Life Aquatic" (another fine Wes Anderson film) and then retired.
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[ posted by mcdeviltoast @ 4/09/2005 11:46:00 PM ]
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The dumbtronica act Montana & McDeviltoast, along with their friends, keep each other updated on their activities. Much fun having by all, and Pockys fear for their lives!