I’m back in China racing with my Jelly Belly team in the Tour of Hainan Island. While I always enjoy coming here to race, there are always countless things that make me say “there has GOT to be a better way of doing this,” which brings me to my first Tale of Chinese Racing.

At each hotel we are given little paper meal tickets. We are required to hand them in to gain entry to the buffet. I’m convinced they are nothing more than a way for the government to monitor how much we’re eating. Well, since we are cyclists with no real responsiblities other than sleeping, eating, and riding, we always seem to forget them. We are forced to come up with ingenious ways of sneaking past the ticket takers, most of which fall short.

“Defcon 6, defcon 6, the Americans are sneaking in without tickets. We must intercept them at the buffet and hasstle them.”

It’s all fun and games until lunch after a stage, where we have to pass through the “human curtain” (more on this tomorrow) to merely find our hotel, much less get our rooms or meal tickets.

I was told in international bizness classes to be patient with other cultures. That went out the window as soon as the boy at the door tried to stand between me and the buffet (ask my mom what happens when I’m hungry, she’ll tell you) by blocking the door to the hall, I smacked his hand. Huff asked me “did you just slap that guys hand?” We were in, but heavily tailed by the buffet police. Soon the manager came up, and in very good English said I needed to give him my ticket. With an icy glare I shot out “It’s your fault I don’t have my ticket. This establishment is so disorganized you couldn’t even tell us where our rooms were. CLEARLY I’m a cyclist.” Then I went back to piling mystery meat on my plate. Huff pulled him aside and said we’re with the American team.

Later we heard from the Human Curtain that the organization is very angry we don’t give the buffet police our tickets.

There has GOT to be a better way to do this…