Life in the Chinese city of Erenhot

(Photos of the diary entry can be found at the end of the text).

LINK TO THE ITINERARY

First thing in the morning I write an email to Riese und Müller and describe our experiences with the tires. Obviously, we have mounted the wrong tires for this terrain, especially when it comes to the dangerous trident thorns. “We’ll take care of it right away,” promises Tobias, Head of Marketing. From this point on, the emails fly from China to Germany and back. In fact, it turns out to be an almost impossible task to send new tires and coats to Erenhot within the next ten days. Fortunately, Spring offered to help us in this matter. She gave us her telephone number and that of a friend in Erenhot. Both are now contacts between Germany, customs in Beijing and us. “We’ll manage. Don’t worry,” says Tobias confidently.

Spring is highly recommended for all those who want to travel through China by car and want to be looked after fantastically.
Please find enclosed your email and telephone number:

Self-driving Traveling Service

Mrs. Spring

Email: desert_roses@sina.comTel:+86 135 7981 0241)

The weather will be capricious over the next two weeks. Some days it is beautiful and pleasantly warm and other days it is rainy, unpleasantly cold and stormy. In weather conditions like this, we pack away our short-sleeved shirts and put on long johns. I look out of the window at the leaves whirling past and think of the route ahead of us through northwest China, where the temperatures in winter are between minus 20 and 30 °C. As soon as we have the tires and the drawbar, we have to pedal, I think.

From morning to night, I sit in my camp chair every day and write about our extensive experiences from Ulan Bator to the Chinese border town of Erenhot. Before breakfast, Tanja takes Ajaci for a walk in a nearby beautifully landscaped city park. There is a basketball court where Ajaci is allowed to chase after his red ball until he is exhausted, much to the delight of some of the Chinese. Tanja then buys our breakfast in a supermarket. There is freshly baked, sweet and savory, very tasty pasta, fresh fruit and tea or coffee. With a full belly, I delve back into writing and experience our journey a second time. Tanja is also busy with translating some texts into English, the Facebook updates, writing for the dog magazine City Dog and writing Ajaci’s diary.

In the evening, we visit one of the many small restaurants that can be found in this neighborhood not far from our hotel. “Do you want offal from a duck, sheep, goat or a whole goat’s head?” we are offered. “No thanks,” we kindly decline. Although some of the restaurants present their dishes in color pictures on the wall or have a photo printed on the menu for every meal, we are often served dishes that have nothing to do with the promising pictures. “What’s that?” I ask Tanja in horror, looking at the chicken legs with untrimmed claws simmering away in a large pot of brown sauce. “Hi, hi, hi. Glad I ordered something vegetarian.” “Oh man, look at that,” I say pointing at the complete chicken head and comb that has spilled to the surface while I was stirring and is staring at me with its boiled eyes. Because of the other guests in the restaurant, I hold back my disgust and fish what looks edible out of the pot. “And does it taste good?” asks Tanja with a grin. “You can try it sometime.” “Nope, nope, leave it. But you’re welcome to join me for dinner.” “Well, I can’t understand why the chef would serve me something like that. He specifically said that the dish only contained chicken thighs,” I complain. “He did, but in Chinese.” “And you think I got that wrong?” “Looks like it.” “They’ll never see us again. In the end, the friendly chef serves me snake liver, which he passes off as beef tenderloin.”

Every night I do the last lap with Ajaci. Even though there is an unlit, eerie-looking building yard behind our hotel, with old trucks, building rubble and other scrap lying around, I don’t feel unsafe in any way. There are no nasty, wild dogs that want to get at our trouser legs or fur and no drunks or other shady characters. You can stroll around here at any time of day, at least that’s my impression…

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