Day 10

Dafangao to Changgung.

Waking early at the hot springs hotel, our Japanese Tatami room, which can be accurately described as a greenhouse, is ridiculously warm and provides no sound barrier from the elderly women who are gossiping below or the geese and chickens that roam noisily outside. We are all prevented from achieving the lie in we had hoped for. After an interesting conversation with Popeye, the hotel proprieter who tells us there’s no point to football (if everyone’s chasing the same ball, why not just give them a ball each?), we set off back over the mountain. The road in the daylight provides views of the steep mountainsides tumbling to the blue and turquoise river meandering below. On the back of Kevin’s bike I can enjoy the scenery without negotiating hairpin bends and we talk happily about the brilliance of “Top Gear”. I may write to Jeremy Clarkson and suggest he visits Taiwan.

Kevin is running his first marathon today and should he complete the trek he will be the eleventh person to run with Neil. The support he has had in this area has been amazing, and any prospective runners should be sure to get in touch. The challenge is appealing as the scenery and sights are beautiful and the pace is not quick. Neil wants these marathons to be enjoyable despite the unavoidable rigours of running 42km and I think I can say that, to date, everyone who has run has really enjoyed the experience. But, today is Kevin’s day, and Candice and I wish them luck. Some logistical hitch with the number of bikes compared to the number of riders (three to two) is soon solved through the concept of the relay, and the Support Team are kept busy all day riding to and from stops to shift the motorbikes. I am happy with this for Kevin has been forced to trust me with driving his treasured motorbike. Well, perhaps not trust me, but allow me to do so anyway. I suggest it could do with a handbrake, but apart from this it’s a lot of fun to drive.

The first 16km are cool and overcast and the road is fairly flat, passing through exceptionally small villages that sit there on the edge of the sea. We pass the point where the Tropic of Cancer (or Cnacer, according to the sign) marks some mathematical division to our planet. There is nothing drawn on the ground though. The line must be imaginary. Entering Taitung County an elderly woman doesn’t look impressed when she sees Neil and Kevin, topless and sweaty, but invites me to her house for dinner. She says she prefers Hualien to Taitung, for Taitung is a place with “meiyou dongxi” (nothing), even for a woman of her advanced years. Growing now accustomed to the rurality of our surroundings, I’m not altogether surprised.

As the day draws to a close, Candice and I are lucky to find a great hotel at the entrance to Changgung. The room is large, with balconies and towels and a television and very close to Neil’s finish line.

Kevin has been a remarkably strong runner, despite being the least convinced of his chances of finishing alive, and hasn’t complained all day. As they approach the finish line, Neil says to him, “Chest out, head up. Let’s start as we began.” The mental toll of the marathon sometimes shows itself in these fascinating comments. Victoriously they arrive. Congratulations Kevin, another marathon-man in the making!