The China Road Motorcycle Diaries

A Change of Plan

All the tables are full except a booth occupied by two very good looking, young, and neatly dressed men wearing flashy watches and sunglasses. They would not have seemed out of place at a restaurant in San Francisco. The men, who had probably watched the scene with the girl and her spike heels across the street, wave me over.

I'm not hungry, but order noodle soup and a beer. The men, who are facing each other across the table, next to the window continue their conversation. Bored, I take my journal out and start writing at which point they abandon all pretense of being immune to the rare appearance of a foreigner, and take possession of my phrasebook, journal, and dictionary. With the help of these tools they tell me there was a spring festival earlier in the day, and they don't expect that the backlog of traffic will clear up for another hour or two.

The men are so clean and so well dressed that I suddenly feel self-conscious in my dust-covered jeans, boots, and leather jacket. My hair is probably matted from the helmet. I haven't looked in the mirror but I'm sure I could use a comb and some lipstick, at the very least.

These men are clearly educated, interesting people, with manners, too. A welcome change, in my current bad mood, from the blank-faced spitting, blowing, farting, staring peasants I have already become as scornful of as Chinese city dwellers.

The men had already ordered and their food arrives. They hand me a pair of chopsticks, insisting that I join them. I try to decline but it's impossible, and I'm glad, because it is delicious. There is a shining pile of thinly sliced meat marinated in soy and garlic cooked with a bitter, dark green herb, perhaps a kind of basil. The mound of stir-fried vegetables is crisp and fresh. A plateful of deep-fried leaves, still attached to the branches, mystifies me. Following their lead, I take a branch and stuff it into my mouth. The batter is as delicate as Japanese tempura, and the leaves are slightly minty. It's a spring specialty of this area, they tell me. The final dish is a shining heap of glazed pork. My noodles arrive, but I can't possibly eat them. We all look out the window, hoping that traffic is moving, but it remains at a standstill. We order another beer and fight over the phrasebook.

The peasants are stupid animals, one of the men tells me. He wipes his mouth with a white paper napkin and jabs his chin in disdain toward the crowd out the window. I will have to watch my things, he says. Not because they will be stolen, but because they will be damaged. But there are bad men in China. Outlaws. Bang bang.

Really? Bang bang? Their faces are serious. Bang bang again. They're so cute when they do that. I ask again, really? Bang bang? I try not to laugh. It is possible to reach Datong before nightfall, they say.

Datong? I reply. It didn't look that close on the map.

Yes, go there. I should not turn west to ride in the mountains. Very bad. Very slow. Take the Yellow River road instead. Very fast. Follow to Ganzu Province. Road very good. Many trucks.

I look at my map. They look at my map. They shake their head. No no. It's not right. I had suspected the same. Town names, distances... some of the towns had been on the roads, but others, not, and not in the distances stated.

Finally traffic starts to move so they wish me well and say goodbye, shaking hands formally. I watch them outside. They don their designer sunglasses and unlock the door of the silver luxury car, disappearing behind tinted windows. The car silently glides away.

I sit alone and reconsider my plan. Yes, I am tired of the mountains, the narrow roads, the curves, and being lost. The big sidecar motorcycle is heavy and awkward on the curves, it drives more like a lopsided sports car than a motorcycle. Still, I'm glad to have it, I'd have dumped a two-wheeler several times by now, skidding to stop for the asphalt that ends without warning and those unexpected potholes. I don't like falling, and I like access to places that can only be reached over rough terrain, so the bike is perfect.