It’s a Long Way to Ride for a Pizza

Well, where do I begin with this tale?

I live in a small city called Zhongshan in Southern China. Zhongshan is famous for only one reason, it’s the birthplace of Sun Yat Sen who was the founder of the revolutionary movement that overthrew the Qing Dynasty in 1911 and for about a month, he was the first President of the Republic of China. The reason for starting this story is that I have a friend who used to live here but she and her partner moved away a couple of years ago and now own an Italian style pizza bar in a city by the seaside a few hours away by bus.

First, a little geography, Zhongshan (meaning middle mountain) is about 30 kilometres inland from Macau, and is on a tributary of the Pearl River, it’s a commercial area and has lots of light industry but no serious pollution. The official population is about 4 million, the real population is probably closer to 5 or 6 million, make it a small city by Chinese standards. There is no real reason to visit Zhongshan, unless you want to pay respects to Dr Sun who’s birthplace has been turned into a museum.

Back to the subject: Zhapo, where my friend lives, according to the map is 217 kilometres away: it’s a long way to ride for a pizza! And the greatest thing that I’ve learnt from riding long distances is that planning and counting numbers on a page are very different to the reality of actually riding the kilometres…

For reasons I shall explain later, many people said it wouldn’t be done but it happened and despite everything the weather could throw at us, my riding partner, Harry and I survived a typhoon, a heat-wave and a tropical rain depression and many punctures to ride 550.4 kilometres over four very different days. Here’s how it happened.

First of all, let’s talk about the planning. As people who know me would know, I plan my journeys pretty well. I study the maps and Google-earth the terrain so we have an idea of what to expect. This time, the maps showed me the journey from Zhongshan City to Zhapo Beach, on Hailing Dao, was supposed to be 217 klm. However, I’m wise to those maps, I’d already ridden from ZS to Kaiping, which is well on the way to Zhapo and I knew it wasn’t as low as that so I planned on 10% extra and called it 235 klms. Wrong! It was 270 each way.

So, we set out at 8.15 on a beautiful clear morning, not too hot but wary of the fact that the forecast was for a hot day. We knew we had a long day ahead of us and planned to ride all the way to Enping, a town in the city of Jiangmen to the Southwest of Kaiping and a total of 150 klms away from here. We did know that it would be a hard day riding as neither of us have ever attempted 150 in a single day before.

First drama of the trip came after we made our first scheduled stop, 38 klms and 90 minutes from home. We were a short way over the Guzhen Bridge in Jiangmen and had stopped at a small shop. As we started to ride away Harry noticed his back tyre was flat. This trip, unlike some of our previous jaunts, we had all the equipment to change the tyre but as were still in “civilization” we chose to find a place to get it fixed. We found a car tyre shop, they wouldn’t help but pointed us in the direction of the village over the road, where we found a motor bike repair shop and they wouldn’t help us either, finally, we found a bike repair man, you couldn’t call him a shop because all his equipment, spare parts and tools were carried on a three wheeler bike. So finally, having lost 40 minutes we were off and on our way again.

An interesting observation about China, you can buy fruit in a fruit shop and vegetables in a vegetable shop but you can’t find a fruit and veg shop? Biking is the same, no one in a car repair place will help a motorbike, and the motorbike shop won’t help someone on a bicycle, it may be something to do with status, I’m not sure.

We rode again for 90 minutes and stopped at a place in the middle of nowhere, just a small shop, and next door to it was a factory. The time now was 12.10 and, as we were setting off, another puncture, my turn. This time, no choice, we had to repair it ourselves. Lost another 30 minutes but we were off and under way just about 1pm. The weather was now really hot, I can only guess but the temperature according to people in Zhongshan, it was 37 degrees during the day on Saturday and I believe it was hotter than that so we only rode for an hour and stopped at a restaurant for a well deserved break. So far, we had ridden over 80 klms and not eaten. Harry doesn’t like to eat during the day when he’s riding but I ordered a plate of “da bai choi” my favourite vegetable, cabbage. Harry wouldn’t eat any of it but we sat, drank tea and rested for 90 minutes hoping the heat would ease, it didn’t but eventually we had to get going. We didn’t want to arrive in a strange city after dark.

Less than an hour later, 3.50pm, we stopped at the side of the road at a small shop and made a decision, it’s too frigging hot to continue. We were feeling sick, dizzy and Harry wanted to throw up. I convinced him that an ice cream would help. It did! We were seriously suffering from the heat so we decided, having only done 110 klms, we would stop at the first hotel we came to. The next major city was Enping, our original destination, but there were three small towns between here and there, surely there would be a hotel in one of them?

Sadly, small towns were what they were, no hotels, a relentless slog through the countryside between the towns and one more puncture for me which had to be fixed on the road. Now we had a problem, we had used up all three spare tubes and although we did have a puncture repair kit it’s really hard to find the hole when you don’t have a bucket of water and there was no way we were going to waste our precious water in that heat. So another puncture would have been devastating.

Luckily it didn’t happen. We pushed on, and on, and on through the three small towns until finally, with the city of Enping in sight Harry was lagging a couple of hundred metres behind me, he had got off his bike to walk. He had reached a physical and psychological barrier when his speedo turned over 150 klms. I stopped at a Caltex service station, got two bottles of cold power water and walked out to meet him, We walked into the service station together and sat on a kerb-stone next to a pump. I guess for people who haven’t been to China, I should explain that service stations here aren’t like those in the west, they often have nothing except water for sale, usually they don’t have air-conditioning and there isn’t a café or candy store within hundreds of metres, in fact, usually there isn’t even another building within hundreds of metres as they are considered dangerous because of the fumes or perhaps the risk of explosion.

We were within sight of our destination but still needed to sit and wait 20 minutes before we could get back in the saddle and finish the job.

We rode into town, saw the first hotel and immediately thought, wow, it looks expensive, but at that time it didn’t matter, a cold shower, a firm bed and place to stay the night were all badly needed so I approached the desk, spoke to four beautiful girls on reception and asked the price of a room with two beds. Much to my surprise it was only 160 RMB (about 15 pounds). Much to their surprise I said ok without arguing or attempting to negotiate them down, I simply couldn’t be bothered. 10 minutes later, gentleman that he is, Harry let me have the first shower.

We both agreed that day had been our worst ever experience on a bike. We’d had four punctures in all, used all three of our spare tubes so I spent half the evening repairing them in the bathroom. (I must apologise to the hotel for the rubber cement I left on the side of the sink and the black stains I couldn’t get off the porcelain).

But here’s an interesting observation. Riding is like seasickness. When you have it, it’s terrible but as soon as you get off the boat you’re starving hungry and feel great. Getting out of the saddle after a day like that is the same. As soon as we were in the room we were talking about what a great achievement, finishing 152 klms and feeling great. However, we both agreed that it was the absolute limit of our endurance and we would never do 150 plus again… we were wrong, but that story comes later.

Dinner in the hotel was interesting, Harry wanted an iced coffee. Here’s how the conversation went (If you can imagine me speaking in my broken Chinese).

“Do you have coffee?”

“Yes”

“Great, can we have a glass of iced coffee please?”

“Sorry, we don’t have iced coffee”

“Do you have Ice?”

“Yes”

“Can you make a coffee and put ice in it?”

“OK”

Five minutes later

“Sorry, we don’t have any ice”

“Never mind, we’ll just have a coffee then”

“OK”

Five minutes later

“Sorry, we don’t have any coffee!”

During this time we’d established that the restaurant had no menu, no food except noodles and only about 6 customers including us but at least 10 waiting staff, two cashiers and an unknown number of chefs and kitchen staff who kept appearing out of the kitchen to look at the strange guys who wanted coffee!

We had noodles (I had a warm beer, Harry settled for a cold sprite, some of which I used to improve both the flavour and temperature of my beer) and went to bed at 8.20pm.

Incredibly, our average riding for the day was 21.7 klms an hour. A little slower than usual but we found it hard to believe we could have achieved even that considering the efforts we had to put in during the afternoon just to keep going.

Day two started badly. We’d parked out bikes on the 8th floor of the hotel, it was a strange place to park but the security told us to do it and we can only assume it’s because the 8th floor isn’t used by any guests, actually, it looked like the 7 floor was empty too, and apart from us so was the 6th floor — hard to comprehend how a hotel or any business can survive with so many staff and no customers.

On retrieving our bikes we found that Harry had a flat. What more can I say! at least we now had two repaired tubes (the third was damaged beyond repair so we threw it away) It was 7 am on Sunday morning, we were hoping to beat the heat of the day by getting most of the ride done before midday, we thought we only had about 85 klms to go. So, off with the tyre then, while Harry replaced the tube with another one I ran back to the room to repair it before we checked out. When I came downstairs again, Harry was cursing the tyre as it had somehow turned itself inside out and wouldn’t go back on the wheel. We struggled with it for over 30 minutes and finally, about 8 am I said I would go for a ride and try to find a bike shop, which might open up soon. Harry waited at the hotel and continued his attempts to fix it.

After about 10 or 12 klms of riding around back streets in town, I couldn’t find anything and was just about to give up when a guy, riding a similar bike to me, wearing all biking gear and looking very professional rode along the wrong side of the road towards me. He was giving me a wave of acknowledgement, as “professional” looking riders do, as I was gesturing him to stop. I asked him where to buy his gear — I don’t have the vocab to ask for a repair shop. He asked me to follow him and after buying some bao zi (a kind of steamed bun with meat in the middle, very delicious) he lead me to a “Giant” Bike store.

It was open, and there was a bike club meeting there to start a days riding, each of them had a great bike, some were Giant and others were similar to my Merida. They all even wore the same black and red gear, one of them actually had the same bike as me. It took me thirty minutes to get out of there as I had to drink Chinese tea with them and pose for many photographs. They were pretty amazed at our ride the previous day and absolutely flabbergasted when I told them how we planned to ride to Zhapo and then back to ZS by Tuesday.

So, I called Harry and his news was that he had fixed his problem and was now riding again. I took this as a good omen, bought three more new inner tubes and headed back to the hotel, we checked out and finally, after a delay of nearly 3 hours and an extra 18 klms of riding to find the bike shop we were actually on our way. The most important thing about this event was finding this shop, we didn’t realise how important it would become later in our ride.

This day’s ride, according to the map, should have been about 85 klms. Sadly, the map lied. We had a good morning’s 50 klm ride to Yangjiang (now famous as the town that was devastated by “Typhoon Vincente” the last day of our ride, but that story also comes in a little while.

We rode through the city of Yangjiang, which, although should have been less than 50 klms from Enping was actually over 60, and were on the way out the other side when we spotted a KFC. Neither Harry nor I are bothered particularly by KFC but both of us needed some air-conditioning and he really enjoys his iced coffee so it seemed like a great place and a good time to stop for a rest. We’d covered the 60 uneventful kilometres since starting out that morning and the time was 12.50. Believing the distance from Yangjiang to Zhapo to be about 35klms, I sent a message to Zhapo, saying we should be there about 2.15. My next message to her was at 3.15 stating we are finally on the island but still 10 klms from Zhapo and need another 20 to 30 minutes to arrive!

What had happened was the road, which was relentlessly straight, boring and windy was also about 20 klms longer than the map showed it to be. When I checked against the maps app on my phone it turned out the phone was pretty accurate, this should have been 35 klms which would normally take us about 90 minutes but was, in fact, over 50 klms and took well over 2 hours and even that was only achieved with a little help from a very friendly local.

One of the highlights of any trip like this is when something unexpected occurs and it gives you a little lift. It happened just as we were about to cross the causeway to Hailing Dao (Dao means Island, and Zhapo, our destination is on the southernmost point of Hailing Island, there isn’t a bridge but a causeway has been built, thus Hailing Dao nowadays is effectively Hailing Peninsula) The causeway is about 4 klms long and very exposed, the wind whips across it causing riding to be quite uncomfortable but not for us. There was a strange putt-putt noise coming up behind us as we approached the causeway, we turned and saw that, travelling about 2 klms an hour faster than us, was a three wheeler truck carrying a load of bricks, it had handholds on both sides so Harry grabbed on side, I grabbed the other and we got lots of smiles from the driver as he dragged us for the next 5 klms. A well needed rest for us as well as a lift in spirits which is required when you get to a point where you feel you should be enjoying the first beer of the afternoon but find you have another 30 minutes riding to do. On arrival at the island, unfortunately our driver was turning left to his construction site, while we were turning right towards the beach at Zhapo. One more stop for a cold drink and then the last 10 klms were done with rolling thunder behind us and a tropical storm threatening to swamp us. Fortunately, the storm was over the mountains and didn’t materialise until later.

This was a very long day, but on a positive note, it was 120 klms and no punctures since leaving the hotel. Our average speed for this leg of the journey was 23 kph and, after checking into a nice little two-bedroom apartment with a great shower, by 6pm we were having a beer and pizza (well, that was me, Harry had his famous ice coffee) on the beach

Sadly, our visit to Italy Square Pizza shop was marred by two important factors. One was that the friend we had arranged to visit had to go to GZ and couldn’t be there to see us, the other was that the thunder storm did arrive just as we were settling down to order and caused all the power to go out. The lucky thing was the beer fridge remained cold enough for me to have another cold one and Harry got his iced coffee before the outage. After an hour sitting by the candlelight eating a delicious, but cold pizza waiting for something to happen the rain eased, but the power didn’t come back on. Harry and I took a one hour walk along the beach, back to our hotel and were in bed at 9pm (not together, remember, this was a two bedroom apartment).

After getting to bed, I couldn’t sleep well, I needed to get up and check the tyres. It was important that we got an early start the next day as we didn’t want to ride in the hot sun again, also, the forecast for Yangjiang, which was 50 klms away, was for 70klm winds in the afternoon but only 10 klm in the morning. I got up at 10pm, checked the tyres and went back to sleep with an easy mind.

Got up the next morning and found a puncture — how does this happen when your bikes are parked in your apartment???? We still don’t know. Anyway, managed to fix it after some problems getting it off the wheel, replaced it and went to pump it up, only to find that for some unexplained reason, Harry’s pump and mine were both defective, neither would work. So, we took the bike downstairs and looked for a service station with air. Got a very helpful rickshaw driver to take us to a very unhelpful bike rental concession, who, despite having over 100 bikes behind him, swore blind he didn’t have a pump… unbelievable! Nevertheless, our helpful driver took us through all the back streets of Zhapo found a very small bike repair shop and got us a hand pump that worked. So, only 30 minutes later and 20 RMB poorer, we were on our way.

Now, if we thought it was hard riding in the sun on Saturday, it got a lot harder on Monday, at least for me. Harry said he would prefer headwinds to hot sun, but for me, give me the hot sun any day. We rode up hill all the way from the beach to the causeway, it’s only about 15 klms but it was very hard work. Then we reached the causeway and sure enough, the wind was straight into our faces. We stopped for a short break before tackling it and then got under way. Push, push, push for about two kilometres. It had taken about 10 minutes already but then I got the inevitable puncture and I was forced to walk to the end of the causeway before I could get any shade or a space to lay the bike down and start the repair. You can imagine, F*ck, F@ck, F#ck every step!!!

Got to the end of the bridge and would have been happy to throw the bike into the sea, except it meant I would need to lift it over the barrier and didn’t have the energy. Harry said; “Look mate, there’s a taxi…” we shouted at it but it went straight past us. F*ck again! Then whaaay, it U turned and came back to get us. My bike went in the back, Harry had to ride his own bike but I got a lift 11 klms to the next village — unbelievably, Harry had arrived before my puncture was completely fixed and we were back under way again, having only lost the time it took me to walk the two kilometres off the causeway. Interestingly, Harry had ridden about 6 klms looking for me the previous day when I rode 18 to find the bike shop, so his 11 klms today more than me negated the difference and we still ended up doing almost exactly the same mileage.

We got some fruit and drinks as well as lots of smiles and chats with the locals in the village before starting the next 25 kilometres to Yangjiang.

This day’s riding was relentless, the wind was straight into our faces. At one point, I was pushing to get 18 kph and I stopped pedalling for a few seconds to take a drink of water from my bottle, when I put the bottle back I was doing 4 kph. Another time, I was riding at 24 kph and was hit by a gust of wind which knocked my speed back to 12 kph in a second.

We stopped for lunch on the outskirts of Yanjiang, outside the restaurant, the sign kept falling over in the wind until after picking it up three times, someone had the sense to bring it inside. We left there about 1pm and 12 hours later, “Typhoon Vincente” hit the town and left it in ruins. We pushed on another 60 klms to Enping and arrived there about 4pm. On the outskirts of town, we had to stop to get more air put into my back tyre so, as soon as we got to town, before even getting to the hotel, we went back to the “Giant” bike shop. The guy there was very helpful and got a lot of business from us. I replaced my defective pump with a new, much improved pump. Both Harry and I replaced our front and back tyres with slicker, thinner and better quality tyres, we purchased a couple more spare tubes to go inside our new sleeker looking wheels and were back on the road again, after drinking much tea spending about an hour and 300 RMB poorer but much happier with our new look bikes, heading for the same hotel we stayed in on our first night.

After check in, it was time for a shower, change of clothes and send a few text messages, let people know we were still alive, got updates on the fact that we were right in the path of a typhoon, which until this time, we didn’t know about. Then, into a taxi to a restaurant for a decent meal, after a good feed, next door to the restaurant was a massage place where we were able to get some circulation back into our aching legs and in my case my numb fingers. One of the major problems I find in riding is pins and needles in the fingers, it starts after about 20 minutes riding. I don’t know the reason, but it’s every time. After an hour or so I lose feeling completely and need to take my hands off the handlebars, it’s ok riding along country roads to do that but not ok in the city — if anyone has any suggestions to prevent or even improve this, I’ll be happy to listen to them.

Overall, I would have to say, riding 120 klms, our average speed was a surprising 20.2 kph, this day had been the hardest day of my life, not just my riding life! I think the cumulative effect of 150 and 120 klms over the preceding days was taking its toll. But now we had this new problem. “Typhoon Vincente” Not only was it scheduled to hit the region we were in at midnight but it was also plotted to travel inland, in the same direction we were going to be riding the next day.

I set the alarm for 6am, when I got up, I looked out the window — Devastation, every tree in sight was lying down. 120–135 klm winds had whipped through the town overnight and the worst of it was they were coming straight down the main road from the direction we wanted to travel, if we were going the other way, we could have jumped on our bikes, not pedalled the 152 kilometres we knew we had to ride, and been home for breakfast!

I went down to reception and found that there were no roads open from Enping going in either direction. No buses were going to leave and when she called a taxi company for us, they first of all said they couldn’t help but later said they could and it would “only” cost us 800 RMB to take both us and our bikes to Zhongshan.

Nothing for it, we resigned ourselves to a day in Enping at possibly the most boring and uneventful hotel in Guangdong Province so we jumped into a taxi and went to the local shopping centre. Got some provisions and had an iced coffee before heading back to the hotel. Good news they announced, as we arrived back. The road is open, and the buses are running, there’s a bus to Zhongshan at 13:25 and they know you have bikes, you can put the bike under the bus in the bag compartment (Actually, this was all conveyed to us in Chinese with drawings and lots of giggling).

So, we got ourselves all prepared, checked out of the hotel, had a hand drawn map from one of the four beautiful receptionists and started off towards the bus station, we were on our way — Thank goodness, no punctures!!!

We rode about 100 metres along the road and realised we were riding into a headwind. This meant the wind direction had changed. Harry and I looked at each other, said what the heck and turned around, headed out of town and rode like demons for the next 1 hour and 54 minutes which found us in Kaiping, 61 kilometres away. It was probably the best piece of riding either of us had ever experienced. We had new tyres, empty roads, wind on our shoulders and hardly any rain. We could see a couple of points where the road had been blocked, a few trees had been moved off the road and as we went through a small town called Shui Kou (water mouth??) we had to jump onto the footpath where the water was only 30 cm deep instead of the road where the water was considerably deeper. Several cars had been abandoned and watermarks indicated that they had water up to the windows earlier in the day.

It started raining heavily again and neither of us really wanted to ride another 80 or so kilometres home remembering how bad the experience of a few days before and believing we had exceeded our capacity for endurance on that day so we had decided on the road that we would try to find a “bread van” to carry us from Kaiping to Jiangmen. “Bread vans are famous, they are small, have about 7 seats which are removable and are used to carry anything and everything, every market place in China is surrounded by them and for a fee negotiated in advance, they will carry you or anything you want to any destination you like — I swear if I wanted to go to London, a “bread van” driver would give me a price. Incidentally, they are shaped and look like a loaf of Hovis bread. It would have saved us about 2 hours riding time and we would still have ridden over 500 klms. However, because of the typhoon, none of the drivers was willing to carry us the 60 klms for less than 400 RMB. So, bracing ourselves against the now torrential rain, we put our best foot forward and hit the road again.

During this part of the ride, both of us felt the same, we were riding well, with no problems and each felt like we were on one of those decent rides of 30 or 40 klms we often do around Zhongshan. In fact, my regular ride to a nearby village of Sanxiang was harder than what we were experiencing. We did have about 20 klms where the road changed direction and we were battling headwinds for a while but since we knew the road and knew when it would change again, this wasn’t such a bad problem. One interesting moment was when a motor scooter pulled up alongside of me, there was a lady with twin boys on board, one on the front and the other on the back. The boy on the front wanted to chat as we were riding along, he asked me, in Chinese, where I came from and the mother asked me, again in Chinese, where we were going, they were amazed at the length of our journey. After a few questions, the mother, very calmly and in perfect English said to me; “Do you know your shirt is very dirty?” I almost fell off my bike laughing, we’d been riding through torrential rain for about 3 hours at this stage. They said goodbye and turned into a village, had they not, I think I would have chatted to them for the rest of the journey home.

So, about 5.30 we found ourselves on the outskirts of Jiangmen, a neighbouring city. Knowing we only had a short distance to go, we called home and broke the news, despite the typhoon, despite the torrential rain, despite the gusting winds, we were going to be home about 7.30, as long as we didn’t have any mechanical problems.

Last leg of the journey, only about 35 klms to go, we approached the big bridge that separates Jiangmen from Zhongshan. When I heard a shout from behind me, after an incredible day’s riding, over 120 klms without a hitch, Harry had ridden over a piece of cardboard and picked up one of the staples that held it together. So, in a torrential downpour, hiding under the only tree in the vicinity, with water dripping down our necks, we made the last tyre change of the trip. In fact, with the new tyres and the new pump, it was almost a pleasure to do it. We lost only 10 minutes and were back under way.

Travelling through the outskirts of Zhongshan as we approached our homes, the already torrential rain turned to super torrential — the roads were flooded with at least 15 cm (more than a foot) of water and in some places a lot more. Every car that passed us did so at 60 kph so that water was being sprayed up into our faces, the light had faded and we were forced to continue wearing sunglasses to protect our faces, we both wear the yellow glasses that enhance low light conditions but it was almost impossible to see through the rain, the mud that was covering our faces and the fact that almost the entire road was submerged. We had no choice but to continue.

At 7.29 we crossed the bridge near the International Hotel, said goodbye to each other, Harry turned right and I turned left. And, with a feeling of elation, having experienced everything that could possibly go wrong in a short period of time, we had overcome obstacles such as damaged tyres, 7 punctures, a heat-wave, a typhoon, blocked roads and torrential rain, floods and Chinese drivers. We’d achieved something that very few people could achieve — especially given that I am middle aged, balding, overweight and didn’t start riding until three months before this ride when I was 54 years old and Harry, who admittedly is a more experienced rider, celebrated his 68th birthday the day after finishing it. We’d ridden 550 kilometres in four days.

So, I’m going to give an unusual analogy here, riding long distances is like childbirth. Every mother tells me that the pain of childbirth is the most incredible pain imaginable. However, a day later, the joy of the achievement makes the pain a distant memory. As I write this, I’ve forgotten the pain of pushing through the wind into Yang Jiang, I’ve forgotten the feeling of despair as we crossed the causeway and found I needed to walk the last two kilometres because of yet another flat tyre and I’ve forgotten how sick to the stomach I felt late on Saturday afternoon, after riding for hours under the blazing tropical sun, I’ve forgotten how irritated and angry I was with careless drivers who don’t care about spraying cyclists with dirty flood waters. But I know I have a great feeling of achievement and now, despite a few minor aches in the legs I’m ready to go again… just maybe not so far and not in such a short time next time.

Apart from the sense of achievement and apart from the freedom of being able to go anywhere you like (at this rate of riding, Beijing is actually only 16 days away!) there are health benefits, here’s an incentive to get you on your bikes. In April, when I bought my bike I weighed 92kgs. When I woke up this morning I weighed 79kgs. I haven’t really changed my eating habits or my drinking habits very much. I just used the bike to lose the calories. So, if you want to lose a few kilos, take my advice, get a bike, you don’t need to use it to go all the way to Zhapo, you can just get on it and ride to your friends house, or ride to the bar if you want… just don’t ride home afterwards!

Next big ride: Zhongshan to Urumqi; 4,300 kilometres over 55 days starting March 1st 2014 to April 27th 2014. More stories will be posted here about that one

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Jerry Grey

I’m British born Australian living in Guangdong and have an MA in Cross Cultural Change Management. I write mostly positively about my China experiences