30/7/25
“Back in Southeast Asia”, Jonathan opined in the morning. 5:45am wake up and on the road by 6:30am. Cool air would be classified as 27C today. From here on out it would only be hotter. Finally, we had left the Dadu River behind. Our friend and enemy since Moxi. Now we were following the far tamer looking Min.
The S309 took us through small villages on a narrow, well dressed road. Quieter and quieter the further north we got. It was immensely gratifying to have little roads as an option again. Low down as we were in the Sichuan basin, the bread basket of China, there were now more opportunities for through routes. Undulating along the riverside we had picturesque views of cattle grazing next to the flowing river.
Just one uphill expenditure took us up and over the hills between meanders. Deeply red cliffs stood next to us, cut burial holes now used as storage. Locals worked the land using blades on long sticks to cut through the forest. Shaded and cool we listened to the noisy cicadas disrupting quiet farm life.
Over the top and our smooth tarmac turned into a concrete road. Slow going and bumpy. Then it turned into a rainbow road. A ‘cultural theme trail’. Another expressway under construction appeared. An enormous bridge being built across the river.
For the second time twice in just 10km on the same road we came across the building of a bridge. Very efficient, but identical. Building everything from the same design had pros and cons. Bespoke machines laid down concrete beams. More than once we’d seen documentaries on national TV emphasising pride in their contraptions.
We slipped into Qingshen to find a coffee shop. Air conditioned paradise. The equivalent of a 7-eleven in Thailand. After a delicious oaty break we crossed the river again and found enjoyable narrow roads. Now we were in the flat plains we were offered a multitude of different channels to ride on. We could find the smallest and enjoy the countryside. Once again maize was drying everywhere.
Riding into Meishan wasn’t as pretty as we’d hope. Dongpo Wetlands were inviting, but the small road we’d hoped to take had been destroyed, now there were skyscrapers instead. Skirting the edge of the roads in desperate need of shade we approached a grand bridge, with zero shade, and crossed over the heavily canalised river.
An irritatingly large number of hotels presented themselves to us. The first we tried, above a vegetarian restaurant no less, had absolutely zero chance of storing the bikes. A large flight of steps ruled it out. Our next choice was another 4km north, at least that was 4km less to do the next day.
Greeted warmly by the business manager, Ms. Wang, we were allowed to bring our bicycles into the chilly lobby. Checking in was time consuming as always, they came to our room to see our passports for a second time. The local police couldn’t read the information. Despite advertising a swimming pool, there was in fact only a desolate and abandoned basement.
Whiling away the time in our room was easy. We were waiting for the vegetarian buffet to open. Yuanjing building was a large faux ancient tower. Music blasted from the ground floor restaurant. The usual array of vegan Chinese food, plus a few unusual deep fried items, occupied the centre of the large room. Plenty of patrons were already munching.
Several plates of food later we emerged, stuffed and very thirsty. We took another taxi back to the hotel. Then circled around the nearby shopping area to visit a supermarket. As always we were afforded b-list celebrity status and people took photos with us. It was hard not to be apprehensive about the next day. One more day. Of obnoxious, insufferable heat that is.
Surly They Won't Make It 