The Giant Buddha: I can't eat this

November 6, 2014

Fortunately by the next morning the pain in my back had subsided significantly and I headed towards the town of JiaJiang in relatively high spirits amongst throngs of motorcyclists in the morning rush hour. Apparently in recent years China had the very bad idea to make these low-powered motorcycles very cheap in order to stop people from riding bicycles and 'slowing down the flow of traffic' and consequently hundreds of these motorcycles now choked the streets. Personally I think a better idea to stop bicycles 'slowing down the flow of traffic' would have been to stop people from parking their trucks in the bicycle lane. Even the guy walking his ducks couldn't get through:

"There's no way through here I'm afraid"

A little later I entered the city of Leshan

The pretty big city of Leshan had one 'must-see' tourist attraction - the Giant Buddha. However, even though the 71-metre high carved statue is the biggest stone Buddha in the world I wasn't entirely sure that I needed to see it. But then again, it was a 'must-see' tourist attraction. But on the other hand, it cost nine pounds to get in. I ummed and ahhed about whether to fork out the money as I stood outside the entrance gate, the air buzzing with the sounds of hundreds of Chinese tourists keen to get in and see the Giant Buddha for themselves. Because of my own indecision there followed a lengthy and heated debate involving myself and many of my talking paraphernalia. It went something like this.

Me: "So what do you reckon talking paraphernalia? Should I go and see the Giant Buddha?"

Talking Bank Account: "No. It costs nine pounds. We can't afford this."

Me: "Yeah, true, but it is a 'must-see' tourist attraction."

Talking Time Schedule: "We don't have time either actually. The Laos border is still 1500 kilometres away and there really is no time to stop for anything."

Me: "Yeah, okay, no time, no money, but, I mean, it is a 'must-see' tourist attraction."

Talking Bank Account: "Since when were you a tourist? No money, dude, we've got no money!"

Talking Wallet: "I've got a little money in here."

Me: "Good, well done Wallet, money isn't the problem then. But time might be an issue. What do you think Talking Bicycle?"

Talking Bicycle: "If you're going to stop for anything I'd like you to try and fix my wonky back wheel mate."

Me: "Yeah but we both know that's not going to happen. What about the Giant Buddha?"

Talking Bicycle: "Well they aren't going to let me in anyway are they? You're going to leave me outside chained to a tree, aren't you?"

Me: "Probably."

Talking Legs: "We're tired. Are there steps in there? There are probably steps."

In the end I decided that it was better to regret doing something than to regret not doing something, so I bought my nine pound ticket and told my talking paraphernalia to lump it. But it was true that I really didn't have much time so I rushed in through the gates and hurried past the Chinese tour groups to find the Giant Buddha. I came to a fork with two sets of steps, both going up very high. "I told you so" said my talking legs. The set of steps to the right were signposted for the Giant Buddha but access was blocked off, so I took the steps to the left instead, leaping up them two at a time.

I ran up a hundred steps until I emerged at some sort of temple in the forest. I could see the river below me now, and I knew that the Giant Buddha was carved into the rockface above the river, but there was no sign of it. I went down some steps on the other side of the temple and into an area more heavily populated with tourists, indicating I may be getting closer to my goal. But then I got lost in a maze of other temples and Buddha statues where people were lighting candles and praying and all those lovely Buddhist shenanigans. But where in the world was the flippin' Giant Buddha? I mean it was 71 metres high, you'd think it might be a little easier to locate than this! I continued to dash around frantically, not having any more time to waste. And then, finally, I was confronted by a huge great big head. It was the Giant Buddha.

It is a very big Buddha, look at the little people

A series of steps lead down the side of the cliff next to the Giant Buddha, but that was a queue I had no desire to join

I was certainly impressed with the size and scale of the carving. Construction of it began in 713 when a visionary monk named Haitong decided that the peaceful aura of a ginormous Buddha would calm the turbulent waters of the river that wrecked many ships here. Almost one hundred years later the Buddha was finally completed in 803 by Haitong's disciples, and the river really was made less dangerous, although this probably had more to do with all the stone that had been removed from the cliff and dumped in the water. I liked the Giant Buddha and I wasn't sorry I had seen it, but I couldn't say it was worth nine pounds. Actually, to be completely honest with you the only reason that I was really satisfied that I went was because I got this outrageously magnificent photo:

After the Giant Buddha I continued to cycle south and, keen to make up for lost time, stopped only briefly to stock up on some snack foods. Although food in restaurants was inexpensive in China stopping to order a meal and then sit and wait for it to come wasted more time than I could spare. Instead I ate silly little cakes and biscuits and sweet bread that came wrapped in about four layers of individual plastic. Maybe not the most nutritious food but I could buy lots all at once and then take only short breaks throughout the day. On this occasion I bought all this crappy junk food at a small shop and then sat on a bench outside it to eat some crisps. The woman who served me in the shop was very friendly and smiled a lot and, perhaps sensing my impending diabetes, brought me out some dishes of real food and placed them before me on the table. It looked safe enough - a bowl of scrambled eggs and a bowl of rice - so I dug in.

Both dishes tasted like chicken, the fat of which they had obviously been cooked in. It seemed I was in another tricky situation. I know a few vegetarian travelers who would just eat the food in this situation. It was a kind gift after all, and who wants to offend a smiley and friendly woman? But I couldn't eat it. I hadn't eaten meat in such a long time that I now found the taste of it revolting, and I felt I would be sick if I ate anymore. Then a young guy, the son of the woman, arrived with his girlfriend, and I tried to explain why I was turning my nose up at his mother's cooking, but nobody understood English and he couldn't get the trusty translator working on his I-phone.

Then I was saved when a thin bespectacled man showed up in a van. This time not only could he speak English, but he could speak English better than anyone else in China. His name was Alan and after I explained why I wasn't eating the food it was quietly removed without comment or without the woman ever losing her broad smile. Then me and Alan had a long conversation about love and life and the universe. I told him about my bike trip, and to everything that I told him he responded with an enthusiastic "Incredible!" I said I'd cycled from England and he said "Incredible!' I said I'd ridden 30,000 kilometres and he said "Incredible!" I told him that I'd just been to see the biggest stone Buddha in the world and he said "Incredible!" even though he clearly lived in the same city as the biggest stone Buddha in the world and must have already known about it. Then he asked me how old I was and found it particularly incredible that I was thirty and had no wife or children. He told me he already had a baby, and then introduced me to his tiny little daughter. "Incredible!" he repeated. "I'm going to buy you a thesaurus" I said.

From left to right - Son's girlfiend, son, smiley woman, Alan, Alan's wife and daughter

In China some spiders are bigger than power stations

It's known in the trade as 'pulling a Nikolay'

Not as dodgy as it looks - I cycled past lots of people playing cards or board games outside

I had quite a long conversation with Alan and more time had been lost, but long conversations were few and far between for me these days (with people, not paraphernalia) so I took what I could get. And I still put a decent shift in and made it to the town of QianWei by nightfall, where I decided to take refuge from the chaotic streets with another night in a hotel, much to the the consternation of my talking bank balance. It was typically difficult to find a hotel that would take foreigners and even when I did the receptionists couldn't speak English and called a man to come down and speak to me. The man was thin and bespectacled and actually looked so much like Alan that I thought maybe China was just getting this one English speaking man to follow me around now, and appear whenever I needed help. But I soon realised that it wasn't Alan when this lookalike impostor completely failed to grasp the English language.

The chaotic intersection outside the hotel - lots of bikes as the kids just got out from school or something

One way or another I got myself booked into the hotel and after Alan II helped me get my bags to the room he asked if I would like to go out and get some dinner. I certainly would like to go out and get some dinner, especially with some Chinese company, even if we would be speaking through an I-phone translator. QianWei had been a particularly chaotic town, even by Chinese standards, and it seemed like there was a hell of a lot going on out on the streets. Popping out to a real restaurant would give me a little flavour of Chinese life, and so I happily agreed, asking Alan II to wait downstairs whilst I took a quick shower.

Alas, my hopes of going out to experience the flavour of the chaotic streets were soon dashed as I made my way down to the hotel lobby and was ushered by Alan II into the hotel restaurant. Had there been anyone else in there it might have been okay, but there wasn't, and the lights had to be switched on especially for me. I suggested we go somewhere with a little more character, but Alan II had already ordered for me, and so we sat there together in the big empty soulless restaurant. I was brought a bowl of noodles and egg. Alan II, it turned out, had already eaten. I struggled to eat the noodles with the chopsticks. Noodles and chopsticks are not compatible. Even Chinese people can't really eat noodles with chopsticks. They can lift the noodles up and slurp them into their mouths flicking sauce all over everywhere. Alan II sensed my dissatisfaction with this messy technique and ran and got me a spoon. Unfortunately the only thing worse than trying to eat noodles with chopsticks is to try and eat noodles with a spoon. I was suddenly very happy that we were still in the hotel. I ran up to my room and came back down with my own fork. "Look Alan II, or whatever your name is, this is a proper tool for eating noodles. Look how easy it is! The noodles wrap right around the fork! It's so much better!"

Alan II left soon after that. Conversation had been a little slow. I think he had better things to do. So I sat all alone in that big restaurant and ate my noodles with my fork. After I finished I thought about going out to look around the town, but one glance out the door was enough. 'Beep, beep honk, honk, beep, beep, etc.' You know what I'm talking about. I went to bed instead. I had a nice room. A nice, single room. It had everything that I needed, and some things that I didn't:

Makes you wonder what they put in the double rooms

Today's ride: 96 km (60 miles)
Total: 32,613 km (20,253 miles)

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