August 1st

August 1, 2021

the bike path into town

Well, as luck would have it the weather's quite decent today - overcast and not too hot - but I have an online class this morning and another at 2:00, which is frustrating. I never used to teach on a Sunday.

Around 4:00 there's still time to pop out for a short ride and Debbie grabs her helmet and we decide to head to the bike path that'll take us into town. We both use our commuter bikes and wear red Crocs and agree we'll just see what happens. I know it's too late in the day for coffee now.

Once on the main road I stop to take a snap of a rendered wall of a house that has its number 536 daubed on it in bright red paint. It looks like a child's handiwork, done with a too big a brush, but it's so bad it's good. While I'm doing this I can see a house nearby has a plump sausage dog prostrate on the front step and it doesn't stir when I go over and stand in front of it and take its photo.

Lazy Sunday afternoon... the dog days of summer

The two of us soon cycle across a junction with Route 112 and go down a winding side street for a minute or so to get to a small river which has a bike path that heads into town in an arc. So far we've cycled about 2km.

Initially the path curves around a couple of ride paddies that have shoots about 150 millimetres tall. It doesn't take long to grow and in some parts of the country, farmers can cultivate three crops a year.

One of two scooters go by and a few people are out on rental bikes.

After the path goes past a temple where a few teens are playing badminton on the parking area we join a narrow lane right by the river. A few people are walking along an adjacent footpath separated by a low wall and on our side of the lane is a series of small fields. We seem to be cruising easily - our direction is downstream and it feels nice to be out.

Debbie near the start of the cycle route

The path gets to a few dwellings as we ride closer to town. We get to see the backs of homes that were likely built in the 1960s, plus a few shed-like units constructed with corrugated metal sheeting. Aesthetics clearly don't come into consideration.

The lane reaches the busy ring road and we make a left and ride past B&Q then go under the railway line. This is a but frantic any day of the week and here Sundays are not really much different to the others. Cars zip past and do as they please - one cuts me off just to enter a parking area. There's a reason I avoid this strip of tarmac.

After a few minutes's of cycling and crossing over Route 113 we get to another rider-side bike path, this one beside the Laojie, which when you look at a map runs parallel to the the smaller river. I used to confuse the two - still do sometimes. Neither flows in anything like a straight line - they both follow a wiggling path eastwards to the coast - and are shallow for most of the year. There's been a lot of rain recently, and this one is flowing quite fast.

The second cycle route beside the Laojie River - Debbie is over there somewhere

The second path is noticeably busier. It was purpose built and most of it is cantilevered over the edge of the concrete wall that forms the bank where it flows through the city centre. There are families out on bikes and people are jogging or walking a dog. It's Sunday.

We get to a small bridge and I instinctively lead Debbie over knowing the other side will be less crowded. It has a lane that cars can use, but it's so narrow hardly any driver would do so. Again we pedal past the backs of narrow, four-storey homes that mostly look tatty, but with urban property being so expensive now, some have had work done to them. One or two have become cafes, but as I said, it's too late for me.

The path does go slightly further east before it runs out, and they seem to be extending it all the time, but when we reach the 114 I feel this is far enough anyway and we turn right and start cycling along it towards the actual centre - just a couple of blocks away.

Debbie wants to go to a shop along a pedestrian street that sells coconut milk cheap. It's run by immigrants - likely from Thailand or Vietnam, but maybe the Philippines. The street is usually full of immigrant workers on weekends, but with Covid, it's relatively quiet today with many companies confining their workers to dormitories.

Nearly all the shops sell cheap, fashionable clothes, but the street isn't strictly pedestrianized the way they are in Europe. The police don't seem to care about the cars and taxis that use it.

We follow the 114 under the railway tracks and past the charity shop, which is one of very few businesses that doesn't open on Sundays. I take a snap of Debbie at waiting at a red light and wonder if we're going to get soaked as the sky is looking very threatening, with a swathe of dark clouds above. An action replay of the other day is not what I want.

Debbie heading home - opposite the charity shop

As the 114 takes us towards Carrefour, Debbie asks if I want 'lemon rice' and I say yes and know that she's talking about going to a small local restaurant that does chicken fried rice with a squeeze of lemon juice added. It's very close to home and we usually get a takeaway, as the place is always crowded.

We part and agree to meet at home as I want to pop into the supermarket to get some blueberries to add to my breakfast cereal.

Riding away from town is always a little more strenuous as it's up an indiscernible slope and my shirt is damp with sweat and sticking to my torso and the idea of getting inside to cool in the AC appeals.

My bike is locked in the parking area at the front with loads of scooters for company and I think about buying some cans of beer, but nothing is on sale and I still have a stack of IPA at home.

Today's ride: 9 km (6 miles)
Total: 601 km (373 miles)

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