Flat tires aren't that bad.

Day #37-41

While the road is quite peaceful, only an occasional motorcycle or truck, when we enter a town, it is as if the circus had arrived and we are the main attraction. My sister enters a store to buy fruit while I hold her bike. In a matter of 2 minutes, I am surrounded by 50 people, half of them talking to me at the same time, others just looking, and the rest touching me, my hair, and every part of my bike. They then all crowd onto the street, stopping traffic, to watch us leave. So if you are claustrophobic, don't cycle through China! Open markets are even more difficult. It is usually cramped with vendors to begin with; just add several dozen people simply standing there staring, and you have yourself a pretty good obstacle course to weave through.

We are headed towards Golmud hoping to extend our visa and are still 900km away. The nomads briefly reappear as we pass another plateau. We descend (in the rain of course) back to the wheat fields passing the town of Guina. Along the way, we have been weaving around broken beer bottle glass on the road. My sister loses. ptssssssssssss..... Great. It is getting late, a little cold, and the rain might make a come-back. We see a village 2miles ahead so we walk.
A man greets us and escorts us to his house. We are served a delicious noodle and potato soup. After the usual entertaining picture exchange, we watch volleyball on the TV and soon fall asleep.

We plan to leave the following day, but there is something about mud walls that keep us hooked. The wheat farmers town of Tadji has 100 people. Their crop is still not ready to be harvested, so in the morning we see 25 of them, men and women, helping to build a 12ft wall for an old couple. We roll up our sleaves and jump in. Now, I've done my share of winter shoveling in Montreal, but I've never had to lift it 12ft high. It is a massive undertaking and a great community effort. We break for lunch and all eat together. I feel content in this relaxed setting.

The following day, we leave with fresh bread and an entire town of waving hands. Flat tires aren't that bad. We would have otherwise missed Tadji.