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We rode into Shaoxing at about one in the afternoon. Before parting we ate noodles – this time I ate noodles in soup with a huge hunk of boiled pork floating in it – and thought about what to do next. Bike riding is like fishing. When fishing one always thinks about the fish that got away and a river one has yet to fish; about a river somewhere. Well, bike riders think about alternate routes they might have taken and roads or ranges they have yet to tread. We were glad to have finished our modest 330 km’s in two and a half days. We were pleased that the peddling was at an end. But the conversation didn’t dwell on what we’d do with the rest of the holiday: it dwelt on the next ride, about a road somewhere.
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显身卡
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