Mass Chaos and Confusion: Stage One

"Jack, I need for you to get something straight. If you ever phone me
at 2am in the morning again, I will kill you. I do not just mean
this event. I mean any event. I mean the 2009 Ironman. I mean the
2009 Tour. I mean if I run into you ten years from now. You do not
call someone between 1am and 7am without a really REALLY good excuse,
such as an emergency. If no one is bleeding, it is not an emergency.
Do I make myself clear?"

My day did not start out very well.

It got better but it definitely did not start out very well.

I finished off the last of the cold coffee in the drip maker with the
last of the regular milk while on my way to breakfast. Then it was a
whirlwind of packing the last little things from the office and
getting them down to the car. I made a pot of espresso with most of
the last of the already ground beans and split it three ways between
Angelina, Carol, and myself so the three of us were the only staff
that were bright eyed and bushy tailed.

I tried to find enough coffee drinkers to justify making a second pot
of espresso but everyone was busy. At one point as I was running back
and forth I got onto a mostly full elevator and with a beeping noise
the door failed to close. It didn't take long before I realized that
the beeping noise was Li Fuyu and the reason the door wasn't closing
was because he was holding the "door open" button. I glared at him.
He smiled back.

Li was the only rider I ever had a case of 'being a fan' for and,
although that attitude is hard to keep up after the third time you've
had dinner with someone, I'm pretty sure I was the first (and possibly
the only) westerner to ever ask for his signature. Even if he has
forgotten, he's found more than enough other excuses to tease me since
then.

Jack, Boris, Li Kai and I were in one car. Carol, Angelina, Hu Jie,
and most of the office supplies in another. I championed for us
taking the old road instead of the expressway and won. The old road
is so much prettier than the expressway and most of it is in very good
condition.

After Tengqiao the racers would get on the expressway but I got us to
stay on the old road which turned out to be not such a good idea. It
was okay for the first 20 kilometers or so, where the only problems
were dangerous bridges, four of which had been completely removed and
replaced by temporary structures while the new bridges were going up
and a further three that had gotten serious concrete bollards to keep
the oversize vehicles off of them.

On the one bridge we saw the remains of what had obviously been a
fatal accident. A pick-up truck must have been driving at night and
didn't see the bollard before slamming right into it. Head on
collision at non-slow speeds with a very large concrete wall. The car
was beyond totalled.

We got on the expressway at Lingshui because Li Kai was worried about
us being late. When we got to the hotel there was time enough for a
ninety minute nap and lunch in the staff cafeteria before the cyclists
arrived.

Carol and I ate dinner at the same table as Li Youzhi, the
representative of the sponsor (whose name I've now forgotten), Mr. Q,
and Coach Shen from Hong Kong 'you must be careful not to call them a
national team'. I had known that Mr. Q used to be the head coach of
Team China but I didn't know when or that it was far enough in the
past that riders he had coached were now coaching major teams of their
own. One of the reasons I find it so hard to be a sports fan is
because my introduction to the sporting world came from the top.

The day's coolest incident, however, was finding myself credited on
cyclingnews.com.

Forgot to include the link for Stage One's article complete with
pictures
http://www.chineseye.com/path-users-...id=1406 .html

And Stage Two article complete with pictures but otherwise same as I'm
posting here
http://www.chineseye.com/path-users-...id=1406 .html

I don't remember whether it was a hotel wake up call or one of my
coworkers that got me out of bed. Whichever it was, although I
grunted wordlessly and whined, I still got out of bed. I'd collapsed
into bed without showering the night before and was ready for a wake
up wash but wasn't quite ready for the hot water heater to not have
been turned on yet at the time I got up. Although this made waking up
very easy it didn't make it at all pleasant.

I headed off to the cafeteria for a reasonably good breakfast
featuring many (many) cups of strong Xinglong coffee with sweetened
condensed milk. It's my favorite thing about Xinglong. Something
about growing coffee means they also know how to make coffee
drinkable. Most places in China, most places in Hainan even, think a
pack of 3-in-1 with a splash of fairly hot water (and I've seen
already brewed tea susbstituted for the hot water) counts as coffee
but Xinglong is different.

Xinglong is special.

Leaving breakfast I ran into Li Fuyu who, after wishing me a good
morning in a tone of voice that was entirely too cheerful for morning,
commented that I sounded unhappy when I grunted back at him. Just
morning. Hate mornings. Nothing special about hating this morning
other than the morningness of it. He continued to be cheerful and I
managed to just barely crack a smile at him because happy people, even
those perverted types that are happy in the morning, tend to infect
other people with their happiness.

Carol, Li Kai, Boris, Jack and I headed for downtown Xinglong
(downtown being a euphemism for "crossroads") to do a coffee run. If
we'd gotten it in the resort area it would have been twice as
expensive for the same stuff and that would have just been silly when
knowing where a grocery store meant a kilo of coffee for 60rmb. I got
180rmb worth though, as most of it was intended to go to other people,
only got a 60rmb fapiao. Carol and I had to fuss at the grocery store
lady for quite some time to get the fapiao since it wasn't one of
those stores where they do it automatically and extra receipts means
extra taxes.

I tried and tried and tried and tried to get us on the old road from
Xinglong to Wenchang but had no luck as Boris, who was driving, turned
around and headed for the expressway. I then used the be-annoying-
until-the-other-party-caves-in tactic complete with pinching Li Kai
but this sort of thing stopped working around the time I turned three
and it served as nothing more than a car trip diversion since, if we
hadn't been fighting, we'd've had nothing else to do.

We got off the highway at Boao not because we were supposed to get off
the highway at Boao but because I succeeded in convincing Boris who,
like just about everyone else, doesn't know the roads of Hainan nearly
as well as I do, and made the mistake of listening to me when I
suggested we follow the race route. I love the roads around Boao.
They're all twisty and narrow and run through narrow countryside and
they aren't likely to get any bigger because Boao is trying for
sustainable scenic development.

Because we went through Boao instead of waiting until Qionghai to get
off the expressway the way we were supposed to I get to see why the
race was mostly on the expressway again this year. The bridge south
of Qionghai is missing.

Not damaged. Not unusable. Just missing. As in completely removed
and in the process of being replaced.

It had just gone down when I was in Qionghai around Spring Festival
and I guess I'd sort of expected it would be finished by now. I'm so
used to everything else in China being done on the accelerated
schedule but I suppose it's a good thing that they are taking their
time about building a major bridge, it makes it all that much more
likely that it will be built right.

By my finger count this is my eleventh time on the Qionghai / Wenchang
road so I didn't really pay attention to anything as we went by.

In Wenchang we had a not so minor disaster. Working on the theory
that the Tour is organized by the government and no one would be silly
enough to get on the government's bad side and break a verbal contract
about providing rooms we didn't actually sign any housing contracts
with the hotel. Unfortunately, Hainan Happy Island Festival, which is
also organized by the government is at the same time and faced with a
conflict between a nonexistent verbal contract with the provincial
government and a nonexistent verbal contract with the local
government, the hotels gave our rooms to the local government.

Thus, the secretariat was in the lobby near the elevators and across
the hall from the media center. Personally, I think this actually
worked much better than being in a hotel room but only time will tell.

Took a two hour nap before the teams arrived with both Carol and me
waking up at about the same time. We were mumbling incoherently and
trying to decide whether or not we really ought to get up when I saw
color out of the corner of my eye. "GET UP! GET UP! GET UP!" and we
watched the final sprint, including a crash, from the 14th floor. It
was beautiful. I've never seen anything like that before in person.

At dinner I had a surprise when I tapped the waitress on the shoulder
and asked her for butter. Both of us screeched and jumped. I knew
she was working at the Waika Hotel but it didn't occur to me that I'd
actually run into my housemate's girlfriend. She knew I did bike race
stuff but she didn't think she'd actually run into her boyfriend's
housemate. Not that knowing her actually got me any butter. Even
though it was single serve foil packets the local health department
had decided that it was suspect and couldn't be given to the teams.

Although the health department for Wenchang was more paranoid than in
past years, this was the first year here that we didn't have guards
from the public security bureau stationed on each floor of the hotel
checking credentials before letting people pass.

Saw Hein Verbruggen in the dining room but didn't get an introduction
or any chance to talk to him. Once upon a time I might have made
excuses to get myself an introduction but I've realized by now that
unless I screw up in some really major way I'm eventually going to
know all the important people anyways so I don't need to be pushy.

In the evening Com 2, the masseur from Panasonic, and I finished off
the last of my single malt scotch. Most Chinese people don't have a
proper appreciation for scotch and in addition to not being overfond
of drinking alone, I also have no intention of wasting something
expensive on the kind of philistine who would actually consider adding
bottled green tea to single malt.

In article ,
Marian writes:

My day did not start out very well.

"Life is hard."*


cheers,
Tom

* At least, that's what certain Filipino coworkers have
said to me when they thought I was complaining.

Of course I wasn't really complaining; I was merely
remarking.

Having those three, softly-spoken words resounding
in your memory can be quite inspirational when you're
out to accomplish some difficult task or endeavour.

That short sentence is so pregnant with connotation,
and so apropos.

--
Nothing is safe from me.
I'm really at:
tkeats curlicue vcn dot bc dot ca

In article ,
(Tom Keats) writes:

and so apropos ...

to so many situations in general.


--
Nothing is safe from me.
I'm really at:
tkeats curlicue vcn dot bc dot ca

In article
,
Marian wrote:

In the evening Com 2, the masseur from Panasonic, and I finished off
the last of my single malt scotch. Most Chinese people don't have a
proper appreciation for scotch and in addition to not being overfond
of drinking alone, I also have no intention of wasting something
expensive on the kind of philistine who would actually consider adding
bottled green tea to single malt.

What do you favor? Highland Park? Caol Ila? Cragganmore?

--
Michael Press

On Nov 16, 4:29*am, Michael Press wrote:
In article
,

*Marian wrote:
In the evening Com 2, the masseur from Panasonic, and I finished off
the last of my single malt scotch. *Most Chinese people don't have a
proper appreciation for scotch and in addition to not being overfond
of drinking alone, I also have no intention of wasting something
expensive on the kind of philistine who would actually consider adding
bottled green tea to single malt.

What do you favor? Highland Park? Caol Ila? Cragganmore?

So far I've owned a Glenfiddich and a Balvenie but I've never met a
single malt I didn't like.

-M

Marian wrote:
On Nov 16, 4:29*am, Michael Press wrote:
In article
,

*Marian wrote:
In the evening Com 2, the masseur from Panasonic, and I finished off
the last of my single malt scotch. *Most Chinese people don't have a
proper appreciation for scotch and in addition to not being overfond
of drinking alone, I also have no intention of wasting something
expensive on the kind of philistine who would actually consider adding
bottled green tea to single malt.

What do you favor? Highland Park? Caol Ila? Cragganmore?

So far I've owned a Glenfiddich and a Balvenie but I've never met a
single malt I didn't like.

Hmm, I can't say the same. I have a half bottle of something upstairs
that tastes a bit much of the sea (iodine) for my tastes. I'll have to
see if I can get rid of it somehow to one of my less (more?) discerning
brethren.

And of course, I've had some malts that rather dislike me (the next
morning) evidently.

--
Dane Buson -
/earth: file system full.

nmp wrote:
Dane Buson wrote:

And of course, I've had some malts that rather dislike me (the next
morning) evidently.

Right. My body also does not tolerate any distilled drink. I do love the
smell (and perhaps a few *very* tiny sips) of good whiskey, cognac et al
but I can't get any significant quantity past my throat without heartburn.

Well, if it's just distilled products, that's not too bad. I'm actually
fonder of beer and wine personally. It's certainly better than some of
my friends who are allergic altogether.

I guess I should be grateful, it prevents me from serious alcohol abuse.

It certainly can take a toll on one's body. Worse, you can really mess up your
bike. :-)

--
Dane Buson -
"... because 'They hate our freedom'(tm)"

Osama just called to say he's hung up his terrorism hat.
We no longer have enough freedom to be worth hating.
-- PatientZero on /.

nmp wrote:
Dane Buson wrote:

Marian wrote:

[..]

So far I've owned a Glenfiddich and a Balvenie but I've never met a
single malt I didn't like.
Hmm, I can't say the same. I have a half bottle of something upstairs
that tastes a bit much of the sea (iodine) for my tastes. I'll have to
see if I can get rid of it somehow to one of my less (more?) discerning
brethren.

And of course, I've had some malts that rather dislike me (the next
morning) evidently.

Right. My body also does not tolerate any distilled drink. I do love the
smell (and perhaps a few *very* tiny sips) of good whiskey, cognac et al
but I can't get any significant quantity past my throat without heartburn.

I guess I should be grateful, it prevents me from serious alcohol abuse.


So no "jim beam" then?

--
Tom Sherman - 42.435731,-83.985007
If you are not a part of the solution, you are a part of the precipitate.

In article ,
nmp wrote:

Dane Buson wrote:

Marian wrote:

[..]

So far I've owned a Glenfiddich and a Balvenie but I've never met a
single malt I didn't like.

Hmm, I can't say the same. I have a half bottle of something upstairs
that tastes a bit much of the sea (iodine) for my tastes. I'll have to
see if I can get rid of it somehow to one of my less (more?) discerning
brethren.

And of course, I've had some malts that rather dislike me (the next
morning) evidently.

Right. My body also does not tolerate any distilled drink. I do love the
smell (and perhaps a few *very* tiny sips) of good whiskey, cognac et al
but I can't get any significant quantity past my throat without heartburn.

I guess I should be grateful, it prevents me from serious alcohol abuse.

Tiny sips of whisky neat is a good way to enjoy it.

--
Michael Press