Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
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Just before dark the train pulled into Jining station, sixty kilometres or so from
Houqi.
Chris and I alighted and dashed for the exit, wheeling our bikes and dragging all
the gear. Our aim was to get out of Jining before being spotted.
I packed and was ready before Chris. A curious crowd was already forming,
'umming' and 'ahhing'.
Chris was having problems with his rack so I went off to hunt for potatoes and
noodles. By the time I came back the crowd had grown and, much to my horror,
a group of uniformed men were standing over Chris. He was still working away,
oblivious.
Finally, he was ready. An unseen face in the crowd handed out some potatoes.
I took them, yelled out a thank you and cut a path through the crowd. Someone
volunteered to lead us out of the city on a motorbike. I turned onto the street and
powered after him. The motorcyclist picked up speed. Ignoring leg pains, I accel-
erated too. I was flying, blinded by a blur of lights, weaving between a throng of
rickshaws, motorbikes and cars that tooted in a shadowy chaos.
Chest heaving, legs ballooning, heart trying to beat its way out of my rib cage.
But I couldn't feel it. I was an engine and all I had to do was click into a higher
gear before overtaking cars and shooting off into the night at a blistering pace.
After some time I turned to look for Chris but was blinded by headlights. He
must be there. Just keep going, Tim, you can't afford to stop!
Then came a distant call from inside this swirling mass of speed, lights and
rampant urgency. 'Tim, waiiiiiiiiiiiit! Tiiiiiiim! Waiiiiiiit! Fuuuckiiing biike bro-
keen!'
As I stopped, everything snapped back into focus. The blur of lights was
suddenly a stationary glare. The world was catching up! 'C'mon Chris, c'mon,
c'mon!' I yelled.
There was a problem with his back wheel, which prevented him from going fur-
ther. 'Piss off, Tim. I am trying!' he called.
With the bike lying down on the busy street, people flooded in, keen and curi-
ous. The crowd swelled at an alarming rate and spilled onto the road. Within
minutes three lanes of traffic were blocked. Tooting, yelling, cars banking up by
the second, lights, a mass of commotion … and we were in the middle of it. So
much for being subtle.
