The frame
Made locally, by hand, and lighter than it looks.
Chengdu has collectively decided not to hurry, and the tea gardens are full on a Tuesday afternoon to prove it. A bicycle is the correct speed for understanding why.
Made locally, by hand, and lighter than it looks.
Lidded bowls, refilled forever, and no expectation that you leave.
Mah-jong, dumplings, someone asleep in a chair. All of it normal.
The tea garden is the institution to understand here. You buy a bowl, it is refilled indefinitely, and nobody expects you to leave. People conduct business in them, play cards in them, sleep in them.
This is not a quaint survival. It is a functioning part of how the city works, and the reason Chengdu feels different from every other Chinese city of its size.
The bicycle is not a gimmick either — it is simply the speed at which lanes are legible. Walking is too slow to cover the ground, a car too fast to notice any of it.
Around fifteen kilometres across the whole day, entirely flat, broken by long stops. A support vehicle follows if anyone wants to stop riding.
You need to be comfortable on a bicycle, but the route avoids main roads and traffic. Children from about twelve manage it.
They are built locally by hand from bamboo, which is stiffer and lighter than people expect. The maker will explain the process before you set off.
Chengdu is often overcast, which is pleasant riding weather. In real rain we switch to the vehicle and extend the tea houses, which nobody minds.
Only if you want them. The day is normally private to your party; we also run it as a small group when travellers ask to share, and we will tell you which applies to your dates.