One of the more challenging things about living in a city where you don’t own a car is buying big items and wondering how you will get them home. Last Saturday, Stephaine asked me if I wanted to go with her to pick up the bike she bought. I said sure, and we set off. We filmed part of the trip so people would know how to take a bus and how much it is. My battery ran out a third of the way into the day, which was a bummer, because some of the more interesting/hilarious parts of our journey never made it onto video. But considering what happened, maybe that’s a good thing.
So we took the right bus, but got off at the wrong stop, so we took a cab the rest of the way. One of the fascinating things about China is that streets frequently do not have a cut and dried grid pattern. This makes for a labrynthine exploration opportunity. Sometimes, you just cannot get to your destination unless you walk for a bit after you get off the bus or out of the cab. We took a right turn after our cab ride, and ended up finding a Mexican restaurant, but not really knowing what street we were on. Stephaine ended up WeChatting the woman selling the bike and she met us. We were on a street that had several businesses on it, but also seemed like it was a part of the apartment complex we were facing. Anyway, buyer met seller, and we started to head back. We figured Stephaine could ride her new (to her at least) bike, and I would rent one of the many bikes available. It’s a handy set up: some bikes are in designated areas, other bikes, like the Hello Bike I rented, are just sitting on the street, like two-wheeled hookers, looking for their next ride. You download the app, and Hello Bike will show on a map where bikes are close by. It only took us a few minutes to find an available bike, and soon it was rented and unlocked.
We planned to ride along the edge of the island heading east. It would be a fairly long ride, but there weren’t any excruciating hills, and we didn’t have anything planned the rest of the day, so it’s not like we had to be anywhere. There are paths for bikes, so we wouldn’t have to ride out in the street if we didn’t want to.
So our path took us to a beach. I couldn’t resist walking to check out the water, but sadly, there was plenty of crud washed up on shore. People were swimming, but I was disappointed that this beach wasn’t any more promising than the one a quick bus ride away from my apartment.
I saw someone dressed up like Mickey Mouse and thought it would be fun to get a picture. I called, “Mickey, Mickey,” but he didn’t respond. I finally got his attention and posed for a few pictures with him. Too late, I discovered the pictures weren’t free. He showed me his business card, then flipped it over with the QR code you scan with your phone when you buy something. Shit! This guy wasn’t some company-sponsored mascot, he was a businessman! And he charged me 20 kuai! Things have been very, VERY lean since I am still paying back the advance I had to take when I got here, and I wasn’t planning on shelling out 20 quai for pictures I wouldn’t have paid for had I known he was charging for them. I should have known, I guess. I offer money to street musicians who refuse, but Mickey wasn’t performing—just pimping out his name and likeness. I could have just run away I guess, but I’d seen cops earlier, and there was a police station at the beach. Fuck. I scanned his code and trudged back to Stephaine. She wanted to pump the tires up before resuming our trip. We got ready to go, when Stephaine took a nasty fall. The bike seat was as low as it could go, but it was still too high. That meant that Stephaine couldn’t put both feet on the ground and still be seated. For some people that wouldn’t be a problem, but it makes me uncomfortable. We set off again.
We made our way around the perimeter of the island. It would have been a bit easier had the walkway not been blocked off due to some festival. It meant we had to cross a busy street. Chinese streets make things more challenging because they have fences that run alongside. So you are forced to walk or bike out in the street. I saw a temple while we were heading home, and we also saw several people pose on rocks for their wedding pictures. There must have been a dozen or so women, and a few men walking out on giant rocks near the water. One woman had two people holding her soaking train in the air, trying to dry it. I don’t see how the dresses can’t get ruined. The way the rocks are situated, you have to waIt wasn’t too far away from this spot that Stephaine fell a second time. This time, she fell against a bike that was next to a fence. lk on wet sand, then climb on the rocks in order to get far enough out to get that romantic shot against the ocean. It was interesting to see so many women in crimson gowns have their pictures taken.
This time, I was several feet in back of her, and I saw it happen. She had slammed on her brakes to avoid hitting some people. There are designated bike paths, but in China, people have a certain self-centeredness that might stem from so many people being there. What I mean is that in order to maintain some sort of privacy in public, you have to ignore people. So you’ll get people crossing a path in front of you and they will suddenly stop. This happens if you are driving, walking, on a skateboard or on a bike. Stephaine yelled out “nihao!” (Hello!) and the people stopped. She stopped to avoid hitting them and fell. The people just looked at her, but then one of them finally helped her up.
She was in pain, so we stopped for a little bit and had a snack so she could take some pain pills. I was really concerned at this point the bike was a safety hazard. But after a while, we kept going. We had to leave the path further up, but not before wondering how cars were permitted on a path designated for bikes. I was also floored at the speed a couple of cyclists hit while barreling down the same path where Stephaine had fallen. What would happen if someone stepped out in front of these speed demons? Or was that the secret? Go so damn fast that people got the hell out of the way?
We still had about eleven kilometers to go. That was maybe a little over six or seven miles or so. The day had started out pretty hot and sunny, but became overcast and cooler.
You see where this is headed, right? I don’t know how far we were from Stephaine’s place, but we had crossed the street yet again (and had lifted our bikes over a fence) when it started to rain. We continued trudging along, because at this point, we still couldn’t get over to the bike path, and we weren’t about to ride on the wet, Saturday evening street or on the grass of the median. It was so dark at one point, Stephaine looked back, but couldn’t see me.
Eventually, I realized where we were. We were soaked clear through, but knew it would be over soon. At one point, we were laughing so hard because it seemed like the day got tougher and tougher. Having to pay for pictures, Stephaine’s falls, the blocked off bike path, clueless pedestrians who think they are the only people on earth, and a steady rain that made things hard to see. We finally made it to her place, where we ordered take out and recalled the day and how things took such a painful turn.
At first, Stephaine was planning to re-sell the bike, but decided she’d buy a bike stand and keep it so she could cycle in her apartment during the winter. I still think she should sell it, but it was one of those days where stuff keeps happening, and you’re thinking, “it can’t get any worse, but it does.” I think the bike is a death trap, but it didn’t kill Stephaine. I told her the next time we ride bikes, we are going to take the elevated bike path, where we won’t have to worry about pedestrians stopping for no damn good reason, or it being blocked off because of a festival. We also plan to rent bikes where we can employ a variation of the three point rule. Three point rule is either having both feet on the ground, and one hand holding on to something (the truck door, the ladder, railing, etc.) or two hands on the ladder, and one foot on the step, etc. In this case, it’s both feet on the ground, crotch firmly on the bike seat.
No Way! Laowai! 
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