Tuesday, 28th June, 2016
Into the Middle Kingdom wild

China, what a special choice as a final destination for this trip in which cultural exchange and freedom are so much in the spotlight. A country that has decided under Mao to forget its past and to only go forward, making the Great Leap, even if it means forgetting its past, limiting the freedoms of its people and shutting down its openness for the sake of independence. Indeed, reluctant to let anyone entering its territory, China has gradually become a real headache for alternative tourists like me. In order to obtain the visa, it is necessary, in addition to the standard information, to provide letters of invitation, motivations, proofs of solvency, hotel resfiervations, transportation tickets, or even to go through an authorized agency. But still, you also need a sufficiently recent photo in your passport. Let's remind us that 24th December in 2015, when I was bearing long hair and beard before entering Yunnan (southern province of China). Reason that will directly drive me back to Laos.

Excepted this contingency, a left bicycle in Bangkok, and some 25 days later with Felix, the barriers will finally rise for my greatest happiness. After having appreciated the first scents of the Orient in Hong Kong then Macao's stopover, it will be without any more obstacles that China will reveal itself. Extremely low temperatures this year, with snow records all over southern China, will limit our bivouacs, but will force us to find warmth at local homes. Circumstances that will delight the curiosity of both hosts and guests. Felix will take the lead of discussions with his purest Mandarin. However, the language barrier will be felt more and more as we enter the countryside. While I thought that Chinese could all spoke the same language, it appears that some countrymen only speak really local dialect. Fortunately, sign language is always useful in these situations: "water ?, food ?, where to sleep? ". I let you imagine.

 

22nd January, 2016, we arrived in Guilin where we picked our two bicycles sent from Beijing with the help of Jian, the father of Felix. We then continued our itinary to Liuzhou without further delay. A road that has everything subliminal... Our decision to cycle along the Li River was incredibly enjoyable. Our eyes were subjugated by the dragon-tooth mountains that surround us, these famous rounded karst formations, present mainly in the region of Guangxi that we are crossing. We then headed to the North in an area where a large Dong community still exists. Very gifted for wooden constructions, this ethnic group will impress us with the beauty of its wooden villages and their wind and rain bridges which have withstood all weather conditions over the centuries (see Chengyang Bridge).

Thanks to our friends from Guilin, we decided to come back to their place and celebrate the Chinese New Year! So we made the Dozy Cat Hostel of Guilin prepared to host this incredible festivity. It ended in a chicken barbecue with many friends of the Dozy Cat, with baijiu (Chinese rice liquor) and loads of firecrackers in the street. At the time, we had trouble understanding why they were blowing up this amount of firecrackers, and for a few days already. They light them in every corner, all day long during a week minimum. Next time, I will equip myself with earplugs and a gas mask. But I understood better this exhuberance since I got to know this was supposed to repel the bad spirits... Shamanism and spiritualism are still very present in the region. Yes. We are the 8th February, and China is boiling. After three days of festivity, we decided to hit the road to the northeast to Changsha and Wuhan.

Changsha, where Mao is born, was an opportunity for Felix and me to meet Raphael and Gabriel, Westernized names of the two Chinese guys who welcomed us in this nice city. Their level of English is impressive compared to what we were used so far. But funnyly, Gabriel, like many young Chinese crazy about high technology, never had the opportunity to ride a bicycle. We decided to offer him a bicycle-school lesson. After many attempts of slenderness, he will almost succeed in keeping the balance, but could not pedal in time. He promised us that he would persevere in the future as soon as he had a bicycle. And to our surprise, we learned via Raphael that since our meeting, Gabriel developed a real passion in this.

We left Changsha on the 21st February to follow the Yangtze, the first river of Asia and the third in the world after the Nile and the Amazon. This giant, which we stride for a hundred miles, deeply pleased us. Its bed has not been channeled, and despite the regular passage of barges, its shores remain very natural. A pure pleasure to follow it at our own pace to Wuhan. This last city, in the heart of China, will be Felix's last visit. He plans to come back to Belgium at the beginning of March, and to celebrate his father's birthday in Beijing just before. Our last visit together will be the Hubu's night snacks market in downtown Wuhan, where Chinese cuisine is honored in all its possible forms. We were stunned by the skewers of frogs and doupi, a kind of pancake made of wheat flour and peas wrapped in a paste of sticky rice mixed with mushrooms, diced pork, scallions and fermented tofu...Not insipid at all. We then went back to Swan's flat. Swan is a French teacher at Hubei University, and hosted us for some nights. Felix left us for Beijing the next day, while I decided to stay on the spot to deepen the connexions with locals. Swan was a perfect and very comfortable host. We talked about everything: UN where he worked, Pepe Mujica the nice president of Uruguay, Chinese girl, languages, cooking, etc. And at the same time, I grab the opportunity to make my first lessons of Chinese, very useful for the next two weeks of solo trip I have in China.

  

The road I pursued went through the two poorest regions of China. Jiangxi first, where I visited Jiujiang City, an important Taoist centre with a sacred mountain, then the city of Jingdezhen which is the world's capital of porcelain. I only took some enamel fragments, fearing not to keep it whole if I beared back a complete Ming vase. The province of Anhui then, charmed me with its authenticity persisting in the architecture of its houses and villages, and because of the its inhabitants modesty. I felt the emotion moving them, when I left their village and pushed painfully my bicycle on their poor roads. Perhaps the family hosting me had the impression of seeing a son leaving them again to make a successful living in the rich coastal regions of Fujian and Zhejiang.

 

Indeed, the contrast is disturbing once the provincial border was passed. This is Zhejiang, and barely a few pedal strokes on this smooth road, that I already arrived in Hangzhou. A clean city, which impressed me as much as Marco Polo was in 1290. The Venetian explorer spent an important part of his Chinese adventure here. Hangzhou was the largest city in the world at the time, and he called it in his travelogues: the "City of Paradise". Even today, I was seized by excitement when I entered this city, which still bears traces of its history. I like those moments when I let my imagination wander centuries back. All the small trades and craftmen are at work at the corner of these narrow streets: scribes, astrologers, porcelain merchants, herbalists, noodle sellers, fishermen coming back from the lake, etc... And all these cobblestone streets, these neighborhoods where life was boiling like nowhere else at the time. The past two days seemed far too short, but I had to continue to Suzhou, the second jewel of medieval China.

Suzhou, the "Venice of the East", attracts many curious on its canals. The city is also famous for its beautiful parks and gardens, whose legacy inspired long the Japanese, particularly sensitive to this delicate art. But the visit also had to be done quickly, because my time to return towards Europe gets closer. I left this city with a taste of too little, as I felt in Hangzhou, and promised me to go back here at least once in my life.

 

Shanghai is still a day's ride away, but the distance does not seem anything to me anymore. That's it, after a year and two weeks, I'm reaching the end of this journey to the Far East. Shanghai, the Pearl of the Orient, or the Paris of the East. Yuxuan, my last host on the chinese soil presented me the Bund, in the center of Shanghai. Amazing last visit in this city that never sleep. Me neither I won't sleep tonight. Tomorrow, I'm back in Europe.

Summary of the trip :

1. Guangzhou (18-22nd January) / 2. Guilin (22-28th January) / 3. Yangshuo, Xinping and its dragon-tooth mountains (29th January) / 4. Liuzhou (2nd February) / 5. Chengyang Bridge, masterpiece of Dong's minority (5th February) / 6. Chinese New Year in Guilin (7th February) / 7. Visa second request in Hengyang  (13-16th February) / 8. Changsha, Mao Zedong birth city (19-20th February) / 9. Wuhan, francophile meeting (26-28th February) / 10. Jiujiang and the poor province (2nd March) / 11. Jingdezhen, world's capital of porcelain (4 March) / 12. Huangshan and the Anhui architectur (5-6th March) / 13. Hangzhou, Marco Polo's favourite (9-10th March) / 14. Suzhou, Venice of the East (11-12th March) / 15. Shanghai, the megatropolis (13-14th March)

Friday, 20th November, 2015
Malaysian ease and medal for Thai

It's been nine months and some 15000km since I left you, and I'm right now, already prepared to leave Thailand, sniff ...So I thought it was time to pick up the pen again for a small article.

Far from the hustle and bustle of India and Nepal, time has come to zenitude and art of living from Buddhist Siam. The inexpected ramble in Malaysia and Singapore was a perfect transition. The roads offered to cyclists are of exquisite quality, but unfortunately not the most pleasant, at least to cycle along the west coast: artificial landscape (monocultures of palms and rice, galloping urban development), heavy traffic and very few accesses to the sea. But the Malays succeded in enchanting magically this past month around the Strait of Malacca. Not a day spent without being invited to share a meal, to receive a souvenir gift or to be taken for a guided tour of the spot. The hospitality for visitors is holly in here, typically Muslim..

The passage to Thailand will be first slightly marked by a decline in the roads' quality, which are eventually equivalent to the one in Belgium, and a transition from the dominant cult of Muhammad to the one of Buddha.

Monsoon afternoons keep their daily regularity, and the mosquitoes linked with it. A pity we can't, at the end of the day, simply enjoy a quiet dipping of tired calves in this beautiful sea. Fortunately, Thai cuisine, exceptionally rich in discoveries, was able to offset this versatile weather. Spicy-sweet, sweet-salty, sweet and sour, fried, donuts of all kinds, a thousand products derived from rice, soy, banana, coconut, etc. So good, and so cheap ...

But before the stomach, it is especially in the heart that the Thai got me. They gave me so much, helped me in all circumstances, and with such generosity. They have something really precious, difficult to explain, but that mixes humility, self-giving and love.

As long as they can preserve this treasure, that's all I can hope for them.

Hi to you, and see you next time.
Jérôme, Wongsanit Ashram, Thailand

Thursday, 3rd September, 2015

Ganges basin, in the heart of Indian madness

Just got off the plane in Delhi, and it did not take me more than an hour to meet up with  Guillaume and Sylvie at the metro station "New Delhi" in the centre of the indian capital. The heat, the humidity, the bustle and the scents of the street are at their height. I already can embrace the idea of ​​what atmosphere to support for the next six weeks. After two days in the Delhi's anthill and a purchase of two brand new red mountain bikes, with 18 speeds and a luggage rack for 6000 rupees (85 €) each, we decided nothing better than fleeing the city. The road conditions to Agra and the south are excellent, but the trucks passing at breakneck speed and playing the tightrope walker leave us somewhat doubtful. Well, it will be necessary to remain cautious even if they look very nice with their irreverent horn blasts and their hippie decorations worthy of the early 70's. 

The first days under the sun will be difficult for the trio, especially between noon and 4 pm. Sylvie will also suffer from sunstroke several times despite the multiple stops at fountains and total wetting of clothes. Three days will be needed to connect the beautiful abandoned city of Fatehpur Sikri, capital of the Mughal dynasty a few years (1571-1585) under the reign of Akbar. A treasure trove of architecture and an impressive view of the valley that will really be worth the small detour of 40 km west of Agra. After visiting the mosque and palaces in the morning, the road will lead us directly to Agra. Unfortunately, meetings with Indians will remain difficult. They speak English as bad as we do in Hindi, and their intentions are usually not very clear. Too bad, we must avoid camping and content ourselves with hotels, at least in the urbanized continuum of the the Ganges and Yamuna valley. 

The visit of Agra and Taj Mahal on the 5th day at dawn will go down in memories. How can there be such a contrast between the crazy life of the street and the peaceful life just a few steps away in this white marble jewel? 

Two words to sum up India after a week: contrast and excessiveness..

from left to right and up and down: Little girl overlooking Fatehpur Sikri - Ganja in Odha - Old Hindu - Sylvie and the rikshaw (Mathura Road) 5.The Trio in Fatehpur Sikri 6.Guillaume and a seller of chilli donuts (Mathura) 7. Baba Jaigurudev Mandir Temple(Mathura) 8.Chapati over a wood-fired oven 9.Jama Masjid Mosque (Fatehpur Sikri)

Wednesday, 5th August, 2015
From Persia to the Uighurs' kingdoms, a jostled and staggering itinerary

As any traveler knows, the preparation of a trip may have the precision of a Swiss watch, its greatest success will always lie in the management of variables. Fortunately or unfortunately for us, the variables will fundamentally mark this last month of nomadic daily life. After receiving our Iranian visa 25 days delayed to Trabzon, we had no less than a clear and unapologetic refusal to enter Turkmenistan after a long road to Mashhad. Difficult situation when you have two bicycles and the only other land-based solution to follow the Silk Road is Afghanistan. This would have been a most rewarding experience for sure, but hey, knowing our families sleepless for two weeks will greatly devalue this possibility. 

Two hours after the news, our decision is made and a plane to fly over the Turkmen territory is reserved: Tehran-Tashkent flight planned on Friday 17th July. This leaves us three days to connect Mashhad to Tehran, and therefore a little margin in time by opting for the bus connection. This will not prevent us from having a small adrenaline rush at the airport of Mehrabad (Tehran) when learning that our plane actually takes off from Imam Khomeini International Airport located 60 kilometers further south. A taxi, with rickety fixing of the bicycles on the roof will save us for $20 while the whole country celebrates the end of Ramadan. A few hours and complications later (check-in, packaging of bicycles and luggages...), if our heart bounces up again, it's on our seat at takeoff for Uzbekistan. Phew!

Route from Tehran to Bishkek, from July 15th to August 2nd, 2015

Uzbekistan, even if still little known, will not fail to surprise us just like Iran. The country is still Muslim and the people warm, these famous Uyghurs typed "Chinese", but it is especially the women in the street who compete for beauty and will be for us the contrast of the month after Iran. Goodbye anonymous black veil and hello smiles, traditional light and colorful dresses. The tours in Tashkent, then Samarkand and Bukhara will amaze us at highest point. Tashkent has very well adapted the modernism of its administrative buildings with its historic buildings while leaving large areas for parks and green lawns. Samarkand will leave us dreaming in front of its Registan and its many craft workshops, but it is especially Bukhara that will impress us the most with its innumerable jewels of architecture and its historical center.

Our stomachs will not be left out either. Traditional markets are everywhere and stalls for melons, watermelons and other salty/sweet drinks are an integral part of the roadside. But most of all, invitations to plov, THE traditional Uzbek meal, and melons/watermelons offered along the way will enliven our daily journey in this wonderful country. A country which will remain among our favorites, that's for sure.

After crossing the easygoing Fergana Valley, passing some passport checks and updating our recordings (see "OVIR"), we leave Uzbekistan for Kyrgyzstan at the small Uckurgon border.

Kyrgyzstan at first sight seems a little less warm. People no longer have this welcoming spontaneity, their behavior is much more rustic and vodka leaves a lot of human waste in the street - unique for a Muslim country. At least, in the isolated villages that we will cross between Jalal Abad and Naryn. This summary is quite black, but explainable. These people live isolated, not only because of the mountains, but also because of the poor  roads' quality, and the scarcity of food supplies. It makes their daily lives difficult. A invitation will nevertheless be proposed by a group of nomads a few kilometers before Ak-Tal. We have been pushing a whole day our bike in the mountain without crossing a living soul, been blocked by a storm at the fall of the night with no food to finally benefit from this shy reception in a yurt. Also will we have the occasion to log the wood necessary to cook the meal. Unfortunately, the conversation will remain fairly basic and communication difficult. Indeed, Kyrgyz has nothing to do with Russian. Its roots are Turkish, as are all Central Asian languages ​​(Tajik, Uzbek, Kazakh, Azeri ...).

   Despite the chaos of the road and the few meetings, the landscape of the region is beautiful, almost virginal and accidental yurts give it a charm. The quality of the contact with the people and the road will improve gradually towards Naryn then Issyk Kul and Bishkek: asphalted route and people speaking Russian or even English ... The landscape is less impressive compared to the Kazarman spot, but we will always enjoy surprising things. For instance, a herd of about thirty camels, in total freedom near Lake Orto Tokoy will be a real gift for our eyes. Since Turkey, we were despaired of seeing these camelids on this caravanserais road. In the wake of surprises, a camp of Chinese workers, called for the construction of the Bishkek-Naryn-Osh road, will welcome us for one night. We can definitely feel that China is now very close and strongly present in the country.

We will finally arrive in Bishkek on August 2nd, a milestone of our trip since it is our separation point, Felix and I. Felix had decided for a few months to continue directly to Beijing through Xinjiang and thus achieve the Silk Road followed by Marco Polo. As far as I'm concerned, I should fly to India and join a small band of motivated cyclists in New Delhi (Guillaume, Sylvie, then Sarah and Corentin in Varanasi). We would like to visit Nepal, and according to latest news, I should then continue alone to Southeast Asia (Thailand, Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam) before joining Felix again from January to March to enjoy bivouac in China. .. 

Felix left yesterday morning to the Chinese border (Ili) to meet his family (his father, Jian and Daphne, his sister) for a short week of holidays in Xinjiang. He will then race to Xi'an and Beijing by bike and, depending on the weather, visit his family in Taiwan and eventually join me in southern.

Time has come to report these 5 months of crazy bicycle adventures: :

• Many encounters, of a diversity and a inexampled richness, hardly accessible otherwise: cyclo-marathoners, raw-vegans, crazy orthodox priests and big Good Samaritan dealers, Gypsies, Syrian refugees, Iraqi, Georgian alcoholics, Sunni imams, Shiites, artists of all kinds, nomads ... Humans! ;
• Unexpected and more or less rewarding experiences: scratching the hoar frost when waking up (Germany), finding Felix's passport in a park after the burglary of our tent (Hungary), rescuing a young Turk, Neslihan, drowning and then becoming a national hero (Turkey), being rolled over by a car that will never stop (Jerome, Georgia), learning to defecate like a perfect Turk (Armenia), being taken to the police station for taking a picture of a mountain (Iran), undergoing the whole period of Ramadan and having gastric problems a complete week (Iran), lecturing a not very responsible old cop (Felix, Iran), drinking fermented mare's milk in a yurt (Kyrgyzstan), riding from Tashkent to Bishkek with a broken saddle (Jerome) and taking urine for ice tea (Jerome, Kyrgyzstan);
• Otherwise, more seriously, the mutual budget consumed after three months (Europe + Turkey) was 1000 €, but rose to 3000 € after five months all inclusive. We therefore remain on a fairly "cheap" balance sheet despite the unexpected. 1500 €, that is 10 €/day per person;
• Health is currently good, but we are and must remain cautious. The physical glitches at the knees (Jerome), Achilles tendons (Felix) and back (Felix) have been felt several times. Food is also a source of trouble and very disabling for cyclists. Our gastric symptoms have almost always been concomitant and of similar duration and intensity, without ever really blocking us;
• And to close this little article, our speedometer has exceeded 9000 km since Belgium, a daily average of 60 km. We are perfectly in our forecasts.

Now, let's enjoy India and deeper Asia. With the dream team I'm bringing you, we will not bother! See you soon for new adventures,

Jérôme

Friday, 12th June, 2015
100 days, the Caucasus, and a wind still blowing us further east

Well, it seems that the chapter "Iran Visa" is closing this afternoon. After requesting it on May 5 in Ankara, having waited vainly for more than ten days once arrived at Trabzon, and after continuing our journey for nearly two weeks across Georgia and Armenia ... We should be able to get it in less than 3 hours at the famous Iranian Consulate of Trabzon!

We came back to Turkey from Yerevan for supposedly three days. 20 hours of bus and four borders crossed (Armenia out - Georgia in - Georgia out - Turkey in) ... happy to got the possibility to leave our bicycles at the Barseghyans' house, in Yerevan. So we plan to go back this night and tomorrow to this friendly family and spend another 4 days in Armenia before starting the long-awaited North Iran journey!

Holy June 8 in Yerevan,  we won't forget you. Our arrival in this jewel of Armenia, masterfully drawn by Tamanian, was an important turning point in our journey:

• 100th day of travel after 6500 km, a bicycle accident for Jerome in the Caucasus (mountain road, rain and car coming at the worst moment in a really tight turn) and some stomach problems in Tbilisi for Felix due to the ingestion of a out-of-date sauce box...
• Sleeping in the city center of Yerevan under the stars
• Meeting of a crazy Chinese cyclist, Chaz Chan from Nanjing, on the Silk Road but in the opposite direction
• Code obtention to get our Iranian visas
• and unfortunately the death of our Leica camera... It will be replaced by a small compact Canon Ixus 265HS bought for 440 liras (+ -150 €) here in Trabzon.

Here are the latest news. We are rather excited for what's coming next, even if the visas quest will be chivalrous (Turkmenistan then India). Iran, here we are !! 

See you soon :)

Saturday, 18th April, 2015
National Hero 20 minutes after crossing the Turkish border
 

Here are some news. Sorry for the little delay, but the adventure resembled to an obstacle course lately ... Here is nevertheless an awesome highlight of the trip.

Program of this Friday, April 17th:

• 7 am: Waking up on a paradisiac lawn along the Maritsa on the southeastern edge of Bulgaria. Jerome is still struggling to sleep, but the physical is at its peak (mainly nervous exhaustion) while Felix is ​​in great shape. Long time he does not feel so good.     
• 1 pm: We leave Bulgaria after doing our last shopping in Svilengrad: spokes buyings, leaks' repair for Felix, exchange of Bulgarian Lev into Turkish Lyra.     
• 1:30 pm: Small tour in Greece and border control. The sun is blazing and Felix already has some sunburns (forearms and knees) just like Jerome. We only wish to dive ourselve into the river.     
• 4:30 pm: Our journey in Greece has been short, but we had the time to see some beautiful churches and beautiful landscapes. Then, we get noticed at the Greek border by taking pictures of the flag. Passport control is meticulous.    
• 4:40 pm: Papers checking again. We present a visa for the first time. The e-Visa fromfor Turkey ($ 20.9) we obtained in Plovdiv. The border post is immediately more relaxed and does not hesitate to joke about the look of our bikes and the goals we have.     
• 5:10: Taking photo of the bridge on the Maritsa. Two girls are doing the the same near the edge of the river... then events will follow one another...

So we were taking pictures of beautiful Edirne. We saw two girls taking some selfies in front of the bridge near the water. So close to the edge that we had both imagined..they will finish in the water. Inded, a few seconds later, one of them loses its balance and waltzes two meters lower in the waters of the Maritsa. It's panic, his girlfriend screams, cries. We then run to the riverside. I saw her hanging on a little tree's branch (the only one to have been growing on this concrete wall), a chance. Ok, there is possibility to help her, no hesitation, I take off my shoes, sweaters ... and dive directly. The water is cold, the stream is strong, but I catch the small tree too, and hear a slight crackle. Wow, that's fuckin hot. The girl is still hanging on the branches, with one hand ... but is strongly drawn by the stream. A chain goes down to me and helps me lighten the weight I have on the tree. The girl does not dare to move, I grab her with one hand, help her climb over me and give her the chain that pulls her in a second out of the water. Last thing to do : get her bag in the water, entangled in the branches. As long as I'm here, let's not do things halfway. A few branches torn off again, the chain coming back and I'm out, three meters higher in no time, snatched by the strength of the crowd which came to help. The girl is fine, but her girlfriend is less well and for whom the ambulance will eventually come. This is the consecration, "You are a hero man!", "Crazy man", ... a hundred people congratulate me, shake my hand. Everyone is saved, the journalists come running and the police applaud me, how beautiful it is. I pick up my things, answer a few questions to journalists, and follow the police convoy that opens me a royal road to the police station ... for my testimony on the scene. 

And already in the evening's newspapers of Edirne: here or also here

Nice start for Turkey ! :)

Thursday, 5th March, 2015

A flying start (Luxembourg, Saarland, Baden-Württemberg)

Here we are. We have just left Belgium for four days and some hundreds kilometers already separate us from the border... 400km on the speedometer since Marche-en-Famenne departure, corresponding to an average of 100km per day. A feat for our bicycles weighting more or less 40kg each. We were able to reach Arlon on Sunday evening, after 85km in the Ardenne hills, before being housed and fed by friends (family Deru from Heinsch). The second day led us through Luxembourg, which capital was fortified by the Vauban's master hand, and a small piece of Germany then in the Merzig area along the Saar river. The 3rd day was very nice with a relatively flat landscape and excellent bicycle routes through the Saarland. We were able to reach Saarlouis, then Saarbrücken and finally finish the 102km close to Pirmasens town. The 4th day will be even more crazy. After admitting that the schedule would be a little short to reach Speyer, we decided to head to Karlsruhe. It was without taking into account our wanderings in the immense forest surrounding Dahn. A huge, hilly forest estate where only the boardwalks could guide us. The villages in the region are exceptionally preserved, typical with its half-timbered houses as we can find in Alsace, and quiet, far from the urban activity that we will hit some 40km further, in Karlsruhe. 110km on the speedometer for this 4th day. Happy to get to this place without much harm despite our painful tendons and knees at times.