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'What do you mean? We can't afford to split up. It could stuff up the whole trip.
What if one of us gets arrested?' I said.
'Oh, piss off, Tim! I've given you your chance. Fact is you just say one thing
and do another. You're a bloody hypocrite. At least if I say something I stick by it.'
'Bullshit, mate! All right, I was wrong. But c'mon, sometimes I have had to wait
for you and I never complained. It's bloody life! Usually you can just leave when
you want, but this is an exception. My diary is important at the moment. Anyway,
you also don't do everything you say.'
The argument spiralled out of control. Without the energy to return to a more
civilised debate, it seemed inevitable that it would only become worse. Although
we had argued on a number of occasions during the journey, there was something
about the malice in our voices on this occasion that told me we had stooped to a
new level. We attacked each other for shortcomings that we had never brought in-
to the open before. Even as I yelled obscenities at him, it scared me on the inside.
How could we ever reconcile after treating each other so badly? He was one of my
best mates and there I was, calling him the lowlife of this world. His insults struck
home, too, and welled up as feelings of anger and sadness. Was that what he really
thought of me? God, was I really such a bad person? Could I be so wrong? But I
couldn't stop. I had lost my head and so had he.
Eventually, he rode off in a stink and we flung final insults across the fields until
the words would no longer carry the distance. Then he was gone, out of sight, over
a hill on the road towards Beijing.
I was left shaking, suddenly unsure of what had happened. After thirteen months
or so, and with less than 400 kilometres to Beijing, had I blown it? Would Chris
ride into Beijing on his own?
Looking back now, I guess it was a time during which we were both at the point
of mental and physical exhaustion. The end was tantalisingly close, and yet we still
had to get there. Maybe we were just letting our guard and our diplomacy down too
early. Or maybe it was just natural that after such a long time of trying to tolerate
each other's differences, we spoke out.
Whatever the case I couldn't help feelings of hatred as I took off fifteen minutes
or so later, a terrible energy throbbing through my veins.
Cycling, as always, was a good remedy for working out the important things -
you can't waste energy on being angry on a bike because you need all you can get
just to keep riding! You can yell, curse, feel bitter, whatever, but you live in the
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