English Version 28
There was a big fuzz at the hotel last night. Exactly which role I or my room played in that I`ll never know.
I had just finished my "drying clothes arrangement". One of my routines is to wash my underwear and socks every day, when possible.
The string was fastened to the window fence in one end and to the thing you hang your clothes on in the other, but as this last couldn`t stand the pressure, I had tied the end of the string to the door handle. Luckily. If not I had done something stupid.
It all started at 22.40. There was a knock on my door. You ren ma? Is there anybody? To this I should have replied: You - yes there are, but I was so surprised, that I just said something in Danish. Another knock. I raised my voice. Then the knocking went on to another door.
Voices in the corridor were raising. A man was getting angry. More and more. A woman and another man answered him back. He really lost his temper. Screamed louder and louder. At one moment I thought he`d begin hitting someone. He screamed and yelled.
The books tell you, that you must never loose your temper, don`t get upset. Stay calm and smiling.
He hadn`t read them.
The battle went on. At a moment I don`t know when his voice disappeared, while a choir of others in screaming voices continued the discussion.
Around 23.15 it was over and I fell asleep.
I can only imagine what had happened:
A potential customer is rejected and he breaks all rules by screaming and shouting. The hotel`s guests peeps out of their doors and a single brave one participates in the discussion.
When the idiot has gone, all the guests, except the foreigner who`s drying clothes, comes out in the corridor to discuss this serious break of etikette. And that doesn`t pass quietly.
The roosters crowed and woke me up at 5.50, but besides that all is quiet this morning at the eastern front.
Itís cloudy, the road is flat and it suits me fine to go a long stretch today.
The boring road without much traffic gets lively by beautifully patterned rice fields. I love these rectangular waterfilled fields, where the rectangles changes direction from time to time, and one can see the care that`s taken for every plant.
Here`s wheat too. Will soon be ripe.
Fireworks at a hill made me stop.
What are they celebrating? A wedding? Some white pieces of cloth tells me it`s a funeral. White is the color of grief here, right? So here you are sent away with a big bang!
In the city of Hanzhong I make my mistake. There has been a sign telling to go straight to Chengdu, so I continue straight until a new boulevard is under construction and everybody turns up a small road to the right. To be sure I ask, if you can go that way to Mian Xian? Keyi - You can. So I think it`s a "umleitung", if so it certainly isn`t the first. Later I ask again. Yes. The road gets worse than ever and I end up alone except all the peasants in their rice fields. I feel in the middle of nowhere and I havn`t really a clue about where I am or where I`m going. But I keep on going. In a village the road gets better and divides. There`s even a gas station and I once again ask for the road to Mian Xian. To the right. Oh, I would have turned left, because I can see a small mountain, I thought I had to go left around. Can it be true? And I find my compass. The road he`s suggesting goes north, he`s right - of course. I go on for a couple of km and the road crosses a big road. I make a girl on a scooter stop. Yes, that`s the direction for Mian Xian, she points.
Few moments later I see the G108 km stone.
I`m back on the trail.
In Mian Xian I easily find a Chinese hotel with friendly people. We can`t talk to each other but manage to communicate never the less. Not far away there is a wang ba which gives me no trouble at all.
Now I only need to take a shower and do my days laundry.