With the miles left to Beijing having crept below 1000 we can not help but feel that this is now the beginning of the end. It is not that the cycling is by any means over, just that now - having decided that the date of our arrival will be August 26th - Beijing seems within reach. Five months ago, Istanbul felt like the end of the beginning - we had crossed a continent and by heading into Asia we were stepping into the unknown. We really did not know what to expect. Entering China was much the same, and despite having travelled over 2500 miles across the People's Republic, only now is it beginning to correspond to our preconceptions of such a populous, booming country. This is because with arid terrain in the northwest and the climatic extremes of the Tibetan plateau in the southwest, the majority of China's 1.3 billion people are crammed into the flatter fertile lands of the east. In fact, only 10% of the entire country is good quality farm land, and so it is understandable that every last square inch of it is used intensively. In the south of Gansu province the hillsides were terraced and even on impossibly steep slopes people farmed colourful crops of rapeseed and wheat.

The city of Lanzhou was your archetypal Chinese metropolis and was being constructed at such a rate that no guide book we read could produce an accurate street plan. Cloned 30 story buildings lined the streets (architectural imagination was obviously an unnecessary delay in the construction process) and the frameworks of several more were being erected on neighbouring blocks. Along with the rapid growth, an influx of Western brands was evident: from plush Audi's (seemingly a favourite of top Party officials) to a host of fancy consumer electronics goods. One of the few things that has been left behind in the rapid development process is the Chinese lavatory. Outside of the bigger towns overly sociable squat toilets which lack any form of partition or running water are the only facilities available. With barely more than an opening over a fly infested pit they have to be the most primitive we have encountered all trip. For hygiene or convenience reasons, Chinese children are dressed in crotchless trousers with a flap hanging down to preserve their modesty. The downside of this is that they have developed a habit of going to the toilet anywhere they please, probably in an effort to avoid the appalling stench of the public lavatories (a habit which some Chinese continue in later life).

Although Lanzhou was historically a key stronghold on the silk road, situated as it is at the head of the Hexi corridor and on the mighty Yellow River, it is now dominated by heavy industry and has few sights reminiscent of its past. One advantage of being in a modern city though was the opportunity to have a very different cultural experience - a Chinese night out. Typically, this begins with a litre of bai jiu - a local firewater strong enough to power the Chinese space programme. Having drunk our bottle, we were drawn to the neon exterior of the nearest KTV karaoke bar. Inside, two men were performing a particularly poor rendition of a particularly poor Chinese song at earsplitting volume, which probably went a long way towards explaining why the bar was virtually deserted. Other KTV's contained private booths where one could "entertain" friends with karaoke in a room with all the atmosphere of a hotel conference suite. Preferring to seek out a bar with cheap beer, we moved on. The opening chords of "Money for Nothing" rising up from a basement club signalled that we had hit the jackpot. Indeed, this turned out to be an apt introduction as we didn't part with a penny all evening. I do not know whether it was the novelty or kudos of having Western customers but we were provided with a steady stream of drinks for free. In return we did have to participate in a dance off, which was the main event on stage. A cheering crowd spurred on our no doubt embarrassing display beside what looked like the Chinese equivalent of the Backstreet Boys. However, we were rewarded with a cuddly toy for our efforts. Upon leaving, we were upset to discover that not one of the several nearby KFC's was open, so instead we had to seek out the local equivalent - battered chicken's feet. Like us, Colonel Sanders would have been disappointed at the lack of meat on this morsel, though the crispy batter tasted good!

For a short break we travelled up to Xiahe, where the second most important Buddhist lamasery outside of Tibet is nestled in a spectacular mountain valley. The town seems like a frontier between eastern Han and Tibetan influences. Downtown contains the standard, modern Chinese buildings along a wide main street, however this gives way abruptly to the golden roofed temples of the monastery and then the dusty alleys of the Tibetan village beyond, where pigs roam freely in between homes of mud and wood. The monastery is inhabited by monks of all ages - boys of about 10 wander alongside men old enough to be their grandfathers with a mobile phone in hand and trainers peaking out from under their crimson robes. The complex has a perimeter of over 3km, which is lined for the most part with hundreds of colourful prayer wheels. At dawn young and old alike (including those so frail they can barely walk) embark upon a daily ritual of spinning each wheel in turn for, according to Buddhist believes, this action is equivalent to reading the sacred texts or mantra contained inside them. For further spiritual purification, pilgrims sometimes perform prostrations while completing such circuits. These painful movements entail the individual kneeling and then spreading their hands out along the floor until they are lying flat, completely extended, before standing up, taking a step forward and doing the same again. At this pace, a circuit of the monastery may take a full day, yet some pilgrims may cover the entire distance to Lhasa, the Tibetan capital, in this manner! As a haven for pretty much every western tourist passing through Central China, Xiahe also happened to be a town of strange coincides. Firstly, I met two lads (James and Tom) who live in the same small village as I do (Little Somerford) and then secondly, I met an English photographer (Matthew of www.mrtoes.net) who we'd bumped into very briefly in Iran. Somehow we had managed to cycle the same route as he had travelled by train in the same length of time! As these were the most English people we had seen in one place since Turkey it made a relaxing change to sit and chat about all things British.

On the bikes, we have had a gentle few days too. That was until we encountered the Jingtai Cycling Club who joined the Chinacycle peleton for a day. We had had a few beers with them the night before, over which we improved our Chinese with a few local drinking games, and assumed that they might not be in tip-top condition as a result. However, they seemed to enjoy testing our mettle by launching bursts off the front of the pack on their unloaded bikes, and so as a point of pride we had to make sure we were never dropped! The next few days will be more of a gentle processional stage along the Yellow River, as we head for a supposedly pleasant lakeside retreat. After that we will go for a final huzzah as we push on to Datong.