每次停车都有人对我的自行车指指戳戳，有一次我取水回来，甚至看见一个老家伙摇摇晃晃地骑着我的车兜圈子。
At every stop someone would soon be prodding and poking my bike. Once I even came back from refilling my water bottles to find one old guy wheeling around on it precariously.
有些人塞着耳机，有些人在打电话，两个穿着褐色套装的秃头男人飞翻着外国口音含糊不清地闲谈，在寒冷的空气中指指戳戳。
Some wore headsets; others talked into phones; two balding men in brown suits jabbered in some clipped foreign tongue, hands poking the cold air.
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