Early on 30th July I managed to buy a ticket for the 12:30 pm bus to Linxia – the halfway point to Lanzhou. Thus having the last morning in Xiahe free, I pedaled over to the Fandian Xiahe (Xiahe Hotel) once more on the rented bike, and was able to change some Hong Kong dollars for FEC.

Foreign Exchange Certificates are a kind of parallel version of the “Renminbi” Yuan, for foreigners. They exist to try to get us to spend more in hard currency terms in the places we are likely to pay for things, by charging higher prices in FEC than Renminbi (RMB). In theory foreigners are only supposed to use FEC, not regular RMB, but in practice backpackers use RMB for virtually everything, except near the major tourist sites.

Finally I returned the bike, picked up my backpack, and after what was (on this trip) a record of 8 nights in one place, checked out and headed to the bus station. A few hours later I was in Linxia, and with the help of a cyclo-taxi was able to just catch what seemed to be an unscheduled bus to Lanzhou. It was more pleasant than the trip down, due to having room for my feet, as I watched the mountains slip past.

Rachael, the Australian, had already returned to Lanzhou, and had said she’d stay in the Friendship Hotel. I went there and got a room, later enquiring if there was a Rachael staying there. “Méiyŏu” they said, firmly. No “Rachael” – the only foreigner was someone called “Murphy”. It turned out that Rachael Murphy was indeed in her room, and happily joined me for a walk to the ever-popular night market, for some food.

Next day, 31st July, I got the local bus to the CITS office to pick up my all-important air ticket to Xi’an. They had it, but said it was in a locked drawer and the person with the key wasn’t there yet. I tried not to panic, and got the bus back to the hotel to pack.

I had lunch nearby, with Sarah, another of the Xiahe crowd, who had also returned to Lanzhou. A curious sight on the street was a man with little straw or bamboo cages hanging from a bike. They were, we were told, crickets. Fighting crickets. People apparently wager big money on the outcome of a cricket match (so to speak), and a good fighting cricket is worth 100 dollars or more…

After lunch I headed to the Lanzhou Fandian (hotel) and left my backpack there, so I could visit the museum. It was better than expected, and I found Rachael wandering around one of the exhibit halls. We headed back towards the hotel and said farewell. I then went again to the CITS office – this time the guy with the key was there and, much relieved, I headed back to the hotel, with my air ticket.

I still had some time to kill before getting the bus to the airport, so I went to the nearby railway station, where I’d noticed not just one steam locomotive but half a dozen or more. In fact there seemed to be more steam-hauled trains than diesel electric.

They were a memorable sight, and I have to wonder for how much longer it will be possible to see so many full-sized stream locomotives in use in one place, anywhere in the world.

The evocative hiss of steam was wonderful, along with the fact that these magnificent hangers-on from a past era were filthy and battered: they were 100% for use… not for show.

Around 6 pm I was finally able to tear my eyes away, and headed back to get my backpack from the hotel and then to the CAAC (airline) office. From there a fast bus took me 75 km to the north which is where Lanzhou airport is located. I had to spend the night there, due to the early flight the next day.

But getting a bed in the one hotel by the airport wasn’t easy. The answer was familiar: “Méiyŏu”, they said. “We don’t have”. I just stood there staring at them, reminding them every so often, that I wanted a bed for the night. I had nothing better to do. Eventually it worked, and they decided that I was probably close enough to being human to allow me to have a bunk bed in a large dormitory.

The problem might be that they are reluctant to put foreigners in a dormitory with Chinese, because they are scared that the Chinese will come down and complain. In fact, some friendly policemen were staying in the dorm, and one of them knew some English, so I chatted with them for a while before drifting off for a rather restless last night in Gansu Province.

Thursday 1st Aug dawned, and I was up at 6 am to have a quick coffee before wandering along to the terminal to check in. For some reason they didn’t want me to check my backpack in, so I took it on the plane and had to try to squeeze it under the seat in front, due to lack of overhead space.

Half of it was sticking out, but nobody seemed to mind this breach of safety rules apart from me. The plane wasn’t that large – a British Aerospace BAe146. An hour after takeoff we touched down in Xi’an. As usual there was a bus from the terminal to the CAAC office in the centre of the city.

From the CAAC office, getting a bus to the recommended Shengli Hotel was a real challenge, and I had to ask for help from several people. Eventually I made it. Several other European and North American travellers were at the hotel, and some were arranging an “all inclusive” trip outside Xi’an to see the famous Terracotta Warriors the next day. It sounded like there were enough of us to get a minibus to ourselves, arranged by a “Mr Fix It” at the hotel.

As well as signing up for this, I also ordered, from “Mr Fix It”, a train ticket on the “Hard Sleeper” (second class) train to Beijing on 4th August. This will actually be a “black market” ticket which is only for Chinese people (much cheaper) but the word on the street is that it doesn’t really matter.

I decided to wash my boots at the hotel – all the hiking in Xiahe had taken its toll. So that meant heading out later in my only “spare footware” – a pair of lightweight plastic sandals that I bought in Australia. I joined a Swedish couple and 3 Norwegian girls for a bite to eat – luckily these Scandinavians all spoke to each other in perfect English.

On the morning of 2nd August I had to wake the 3 Norwegians up, since otherwise they’d have missed the tour to the Terracotta Army. There was quite a party atmosphere on the bus until we were at our destination and suddenly realised the guide was trying to rip us off. We had been told we needed to pay 25 FEC ($8) each to see the “warriors” but were then shown a silly display of a few warriors in a museum, rather than the actual army in situ.

The guide said we had to pay another 30 FEC each ($10) to see the army itself, which hadn’t been mentioned at the start – just the 25 FEC. There was no evidence that the guide had paid for us to see the museum, which was wide open. We told him that we wanted the 25 FEC back from him, and that this should go towards the entrance fee to the Terracotta Army.

He pretended not to understand, having previously been competent at English. Several tourists yelled “Money Now!! You understand?? MONEY NOW!!”, while the guide laughed nervously while visibly sweating. Eventually he gave in, and handed back the 25 FEC to each person, which he had effectively tried to steal.

This money was thus spent on our entrance fees to see what we had all come to see – the amazing Terracotta Army, dating from 2200 years ago, as an attempt by an insane emperor to guard his mausoleum and thus protect his spirit from retribution for his many misdeeds.

Photography was supposedly not allowed, but there are advantages to having a very compact camera!

An hour later we decide to head back to Xi’an. We got the very cheap public bus – we wanted nothing more to do with the rip-off tour bus, .

The tendency for many people in China to try to overcharge and take advantage of foreigners, even those of us on a tight budget, is becoming rather irritating, to say the least. I increasingly feel that I’m regarded as a brainless cash dispenser. The other 2 sources of increasing irritation with this country are the constant staring… and the spitting, which everyone seems to do all the time, invariably preceded by the most disgusting hawking noises imaginable.

It’s not all bad – Xiahe was relaxing, and Guilin and the Terracotta Army are clearly not to be missed – but I think a month in China is about as much as I am likely going to be able to take…

The evening in Xi’an was fun. A big group, consisting of those of us who had been on the “rip-off tour”, headed out from the Shengli Hotel to the Small World Café for some food, and then for a wander in the night market. There, I got talking to a group of East Africans – they have come to China to study, work and try their fortune… and are not enjoying it.

They said that they understand that many of the unenlightened Chinese are racist with regards to anyone who is not Chinese, but they assured me that the racism shown towards them as Africans is horrendous, universal, and utterly blatant. Largely because of it, they are planning to head back to Tanzania and Uganda as soon as they can afford to.

Back at the Small World Café the drinks flowed until past midnight, and the party continued in a corridor of the Shengli Hotel until 4 am when people finally drifted off to bed.

Since in 3 days time (on 5th August) it’s my birthday, I felt justified in partying a little!