PEOPLE WALK, PEOPLE FLY, PEOPLE SING, PEOPLE SIGH, PEOPLE LOSE, PEOPLE DIE. HURT PEOPLE CRY…
Mass exodus! We hire bikes and join the throng on Chengdu’s crowded streets. The modus operandi? Just plunge headlong into the crowds and throw caution to the dirty breeze. Our first mission is to get our visas extended, which, once we have found the PSB [the Public Security Bureau], is a simple operation. Ten minutes and ￥25 each later, we have shiny and crisp new visas allowing us to stay, should we want to, until December 4th.
The air of Chengdu is thick with pollution, and as we cycle, our eyes begin to sting and our throats ache. We stop briefly to photograph another giant statue of Mao, then cycle up to the river and lunch on jiǎozi [dumplings] and spicy noodles. After lunch, we set off in search of Renmin Park, following a network of back alleys teeming with life. The street markets here are a colourful blend of food stores, clothing merchants, and tinkers of all sides. Basins of live, and nearly live, fish line the gutter in a corner. Here, stacks of eggs await sale. Merchants squat behind piles of greens, cabbages, spinach, radishes. There, cages full of chickens and ducks. Snack hawkers sell dumplings, nuts, noodles, and kebabs. Several video game parlours are crowded with young people playing the latest games. Above the street, floor after floor of apartments, washing hanging everywhere, and twisted networks of plumbing.
The entry fee for the park turns out to be ￥2 yuan, so we don’t bother going in, opting instead to return the bikes to the hire shop. In the evening, after a delicious meal at a place called Lucky Café (next door to the Flower Garden Restaurant, and far, far better, but virtually non patronised by tourists, all of whom seem to go to the FG because it is in the book) we go over to see Our Mister Lee, a local tout, who has got us hard sleeper tickets for supposedly Chinese price, ￥20.
CurseOfTheTraveller 