Watching mile after mile of desolate, empty landscape whizz by while we sat on our comfortable bunks reaffirmed our decision to take the train. After the intense finale to Kyrgyzstan, we were quite happy to rest our aching legs and stuff our faces with all manner of noodles and shrink-wrapped delicacies.
Waking on the second morning of our epic train journey we looked out of the window with astonishment on a landscape that was mountainous, a verdant green, and covered in small towns – we had entered Sichuan! A few hours later we stepped off the train into Chengdu, the capital of the province, and immediately felt how different the city was from the world we had just left. Where Kashgar had been a blend of both Central Asian and Chinese cultures, and had acted somewhat as a decompression chamber for us, we realised that we were now in Han China - with westernised shops, flashy cars and huge numbers of people everywhere. Fearfully we went to the luggage terminal to see if our bikes had arrived, and were overjoyed to find that not only were they there, but also they were completely unscathed after their adventure.
Chengdu is famous for two things: firstly, it has a higher concentration of eateries than any other place on the planet; and secondly it is home to a breeding centre for Giant Pandas. Our naturally gluttonous tendencies meant that we explored the first of these in some detail, and enjoyed a very special meal in the city when a lovely local family, seeing us looking at the menu in utter confusion, not only ordered a selection of tasty dishes for us, but also paid for our food.
However, it was the second claim to fame that we were really excited about. These beautiful animals completely lived up to our expectations- they were intelligent, hilarious, and incredibly sweet. Inevitably, we came away from the breeding centre with reservations about animals in captivity, a problem compounded by the disrespect shown towards the pandas by many of the visitors, who shouted at them to get them to look into their cameras and banged on the sides of their enclosures. Nonetheless, the breeding programme run from here has done amazing things, contributing to Giant Pandas officially coming off the threatened species list in 2016.
After three days in Chengdu we were ready to begin cycling again, and rode out of the city in a state of trepidation and excitement: the Chinese leg of our trip had begun! A bust bike chain followed by an unfortunate introduction to chicken skin noodles could not dampen our spirits, and were more than made up for by the interesting sights and smells we were cycling past, the gloriously smooth tarmac we were rolling over, and the discovery of a roadside stall serving fatty, sugary dough balls.
On our second day in this new world we reached Emei Shan, one of five holy Buddhist mountains in China. On first glance, the spiritual side of the area appeared to have been overwhelmed by hotels, restaurants and old women hawking ponchos in the rain. However, as we walked up the mountain and visited the Buddhist monasteries which cluster its slopes, we felt the peace envelop us amongst the bamboo and mist.
It was a beautiful place, although the endless steps up and down the mountainside, along with a decision to walk back to the hotel to avoid the bus fare, meant we ended our ‘rest’ day having walked 30km and more tired than we had begun it.
From Emei Shan we headed to Leshan, home to the world’s largest ancient Buddha. Carved into the cliffs above the river, he was an impressive sight, with an imposing head, giant body and toenails larger than Harriet.
Leshan was our last stop on the main tourist trail: from there, we left the highways behind and cycled along backroads which weaved through rice paddies full of ducks and tiny villages which seemed quite untouched by the “progression” China is currently experiencing.
It was beautiful terrain, and we felt very positive about our time in China. But while the landscape was incredible, other elements were becoming increasingly difficult. After passing through the touristy parts of Sichuan feeling relatively inconspicuous even on our bicycles, we were suddenly of huge interest to everyone. Every time we stopped for a rest or something to eat, a group of 10-20 people would appear, chattering excitedly to each other, and pointing camera phones at us. We began to feel a little like the poor pandas in their enclosures, until Jonathan began to respond to these onslaughts of interest by taking his own photos of our paparazzi, who didn’t seem to enjoy having the lens turned on them.
Cycling through these less-developed areas also posed problems for our sleeping arrangements. Since we had entered China, we had only managed to camp once. With so many people around, every potential wild camping spot we had seen since then had proved impossible: seemingly perfect bamboo groves would turn out to be major thoroughfares to the local village; empty bushes would part to reveal several people busily digging the ground; and every flat piece of land we saw would be covered in a cornucopia of vegetables.
Around Chengdu this had not worried us too much, as hotels had been plentiful and cheap. But now they were thin on the ground, and even when we could find one they would often refuse to accept us because we were foreign and therefore had to be registered online with the police. In large cities this is not a problem, but in more rural areas it proved to be a nightmare, as hotel owners either didn’t want to or didn’t know how to complete the process and so would refuse us. On our first night in rural Sichuan, we tried three hotels in two separate towns before we luckily encountered a friendly owner who spent several hours battling with the registration forms, even calling in a local police officer for assistance so that we could have a bed for the night.
The next day, we caught a ferry across the river, and headed away from its flat banks into a land of rolling hills before dropping down into Yibin, the source of the great Yangtze river. Here, Jonathan finally braved the hairdresser and revealed a face that less resembled that of a minor prophet.
We also discovered another incredible night market where we feasted to our hearts’ content on tofu, chilli potatoes, waffles and hot pot, cooking our own vegetable kebabs over steaming bowls of spicy broth.
From Yibin, we pedalled through a beautiful green corridor of bamboo on one of the loveliest stretches of cycling we have experienced on the trip so far.
This was followed by a deeply unpleasant climb up to our guesthouse in the aptly named Bamboo Sea, where we consumed numerous bowls of surprisingly delicious bamboo fungus noodles. The next day a cable car ride over the swathes of bamboo resulted in Jonathan’s hand being crushed by a fear-stricken Harriet, before we embarked on another 30km walk around the National Park.
Exhausted yet again after our “day off”, we wondered if we were pushing it a little hard.
The next day we realised we definitely were overextending ourselves: our legs burned whilst the road climbed up through swathes of bamboo and mist, winding endlessly at deeply unpleasant gradients. Emerging from this lengthy torture, we entered a different type of unexpectedly exhausting terrain: rice terraces. These involved much shorter climbs, but all at gradients which were at the very limit of what we could physically force our legs to cycle. We climbed and dropped repeatedly for several hours, and by 3.30 we were utterly exhausted. We attempted to check into a hotel we had spied in a small town, only to be informed once again that they would not take foreigners. Dismayed, we battled on for another 20km to the next town, to be met with the same news. We then spent a surreal hour following a very kind man around from place to place as he tried to find someone who would take us in. His search culminated at the police station, which thankfully was closed, as we didn’t really fancy spending the night in a cell, whatever the reason. By now it was dark, but we had no option but to carry on again and try to camp. With head torches on, we spotted a cluster of trees on the edge of a field and crept in between them, hiding whenever we heard a sound. Luckily, no one disturbed us, although the presence of the super moon that night meant our invisibility was not what we might have hoped.
At 5 am the next morning we scurried out of our hiding place, trampling a few lettuces before reaching the road and heading off again in the dark. As the sun rose, we passed several bemused schoolchildren on their way to school, torches in hand, and watched as the mist cleared to reveal the stunningly beautiful hills around us.
After breakfasting on cake in a little village, we finally dropped out of the rice terraces and down into Chishui, marking the end of our time in Sichuan Province. Although it was only lunchtime our exploits the day before meant that we were more than ready to stop. This turned out to be a great decision, as we were rewarded with the strangest hotel room of our trip: purple velvet curtains, a purple velvet chaise longue and a purple circular bed surrounded by purple net curtains was ours for the bargain price of £20.
Finally able to relax in our very own boudoir, we readied ourselves for the next stage of our trip: the rarely visited Guizhou Province.