D43: 黄陂 → 新洲

July 19, 2022

It seems that if feminine attributes are to be sculpted, it will most likely happen on Elephants and Qilin

After a morning spent lollygagging over an absurdly large meal of still more fried chicken (it was something like 30y for a whole bird, chicken nuggets, a sandwich, and two drinks) that eventually needed to be packed up and put in my panniers for dinner, I'm in for a very rainy day on one of those national roads that used to be a main north/south thoroughfare for everything traveling between Beijing and Guangxi that wasn't taking the train.

Lucky for me, it was surpassed by expressways long enough ago that it's rarely more than two lanes wide and the roadbuilders didn't feel the need to bypass all the towns.

A temple I should have climbed down the embankment for

Sales of tires and honey. Truly a match made in heaven.

Impressive dedication to the diagonal tile pattern

As well, given my usual habit of not managing to be on the road until the hottest and most uncomfortable part of the day, the rain actually manages to make things quite pleasant.

From the age of government slogans and advertising no one has bothered to cover up with newer slogans and newer advertising, although there are various bright spots of new construction, modern agricultural projects, and recently opened shops, one gets the feeling that it's been a good 10 or 15 years since anyone living here really felt the need to be trying.

The problem with the Party's current efforts at rural revitalization isn't rural poverty alleviation. Big and thorny and difficult an issue as that is, and prosperity gospel wankers notwithstanding, most people want to work hard towards something and most poor people who have been given the opportunity to improve themselves, will.

The problem is that, for as long as there have been cities, people have wanted to live in them. You look back 1,000 years to Europe in the Middle Ages when the urban death rate so far outstripped the birth rate that the growth rate of cities came entirely from serfs fleeing the farm for someplace more interesting and it's hard to see—even with better air and a more comfortable overall environment—how it's ever going to be possible to achieve.

This year's first person hand washing laundry in a natural body of water

In my relentless quest to collect photos of ephemera that ought not exist, I even manage a 6 year old fabric lightpole banner for 两学一做.

Sitting out the flood from the skies while I eat a cold chicken burger and some plums, I'm touched by the offer of an umbrella from the person whose overhang I'm sheltering under. It would be useless for my luggage (which includes dirty laundry that wasn't in plastic bags) and I'm not sure if I can ride while holding an umbrella but it's so thoughtful a thing to do for a complete stranger.

Chinglish like this is really quite charming

Pointing at the location where (once the bus stop is installed) the braille signs will be, the sign reads "Illiterate Station Sign"

Instead, as there seems to be no indication that it will let up before full dark, I proceed to the city, to a Merida that clearly aren't enough "my people" to even ask for my bike to be looked at¹, and a cheap hotel where the whole of the space behind the front desk is a bed and I have to ask for towels to sit on while I use their computer to register myself.

¹ Since my Rohloff has one of those derailleur like chain tensioners, I ought to be able to use a front derailleur with my current three speed Deore crankset. I just need to find a shop big enough to potentially have parts.

Today's ride: 51 km (32 miles)
Total: 2,565 km (1,593 miles)

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