No express-ways, thank you. We prefer the small provincial roads, but in China they are often new four-lane roads. We roll through the semi-desert past villages, brick-factories and lots of windmills. We have to stop and snap a photo of Green Car in front of the Danish-Chinese windmills. Suddenly we are out of the Gobi and the land rise in green hills. When we stop for tea we find ourselves in the middle of the celery- trade. The vegetable arrives on small tractors from the fields nearby and gets loaded unto big trucks. Every celery is stacked carefully and sprayed with water. With care and hard work the farmers make sure the vegetables will reach Beijing fresh and tasty. They even seem to have fun. Or is it us, the long-noses, that they laugh at?


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