China

What could have been a relatively enjoyable transit in air-conditioned luxury aboard a ‘sleeper bus’ through the night, became a nightmare of alternating hot and humid and blasting cold air-conditioning as we hit traffic shortly after midnight and crawled our way toward the outskirts of Beijing. Seems the Chinese decided to put a toll just outside the city, and we literally could have walked for the last five hours and made the trip more quickly. As it was, we sat in the bus which would roll 20-50 meters every 30 minutes (with the AC blasting) and then come to a complete and utter halt for the remaining 29 minutes of each half hour, with the bus doors open and the heat, humidity and diesel of the highway wafting into the bus. But at least we had a place to lay down as we drifted in and out of sleep, alternatively dripping with sweat and then freezing hour after hour after hour.

Pulling into the outskirts of Beijing, we passed through beautiful landscape after paying our toll and hitting new land speed records coasting through numerous tunnels in the hilly landscape. I was up at about 0530AM watching Jacqui slumber, and even tried to wake her (in vain) for a glimpse or two as the Great Wall of China came in and out of view numerous times. It wasn’t until that sight that it hit me: We really are in China! Of course, minutes later I was brimming with American pride as a true symbol of western occupation came into view glimmering in the morning sun, as though plucked from a Florida postcard: could it be . . . Disneyland?? What appeared to be the framing of the storybook castle, and an entrance to a soon-to-open park appeared to be a Disney-esque creation, we can’t be certain. But it definitely looked the part, right down to the glass slippers . . . .

Our bus transit ended with a taxi scramble at a central bus station with groups of us pairing up to see who was going where. Hostels, hotels, train stations and the airport were all intended destinations, and Jacquie and I paired up with a German and French kid, each of whom was traveling at least half as long as us, with twice the luggage! In any event, we made it to the Airport in Beijing, and found ourselves able to relax in quite comfy surroundings of this modern and well equipped facility. But we knew we were in a haven of capitalism when, amongst the numerous duty-free shops selling liquor by the gallon, perfume by the liter and diamonds by the dozen, we came across Starbucks! Hallelujah! A cappuccino, an espresso, and a couple of sandwiches later, and we settled in to await our Dragon Air flight in the plush confines of caffeine central.

Of course, after enduring plugged systems, due to abhorrent facilities on the road, a trip to a loo with (hopefully) indoor plumbing was in order. Walking into the men’s, I was overwhelmed by a distinct and powerful aroma: Part # 91067 Kimberly-Clark® KIMCARE® Citrus Scented Continuous Air-Freshening System. Along with a happy stomach full of delectable coffee, my olfactory senses finally felt the balance return to an otherwise brutal world. Never thought a bathroom could smell so good!

(gratuitous plug for my awesome employer!)

Our flight to Hong Kong was quite typical. Our first stop was security, which we figured would be a simple affair after the numerous airports we have cruised through like professionals. After facing gauntlets of x-rays and metal detectors since leaving Africa, we thought we had the system down. And then it happened. Jacquie was pulled aside by a suspicious, and yet very cordial security screener. Her bag was passed through the x-ray a second time, and she was requested to pull to the side for the dreaded “additional screening”. Being in Red China, a slight twinge of fear crept up as we innocently and fully cooperated. To our surprise, the screener asked Jacquie whether she was carrying a knife. A knife?! Multiple flights, numerous screenings, a host of x-rays (like about a half dozen!) and this guy thought Jacquie has a knife?? Of course the response was . . . was . . . no? But wait! Jacquie suddenly recalled a secret little pocket, smartly designed on our day packs to conceal things like wallets, passports, money, spare change . . . . and a pocket-knife and flashlight that some bonehead (read: LLOYD) had slipped into the pocket whilst camping in Botswana. “Just in case” he had said at the time. Of course they were never used, quickly forgotten, and proved to be a simple litmus for security across the globe. And proof that China, beyond being fast and efficient, are actually very, very good at security (beating out Heathrow and Moscow at least in terms of finding concealed contraband). Instead of the short prison sentence we expected, the security screener actually let me open the knife and use it to cut the flashlight off the knife and take that with, while he retained the little contraband, and let us move on to our flight without further delay.

So, “DragonAir” kind of sounds a little gimmicky, and I must admit I initially had a few trepidations about getting to the gate and finding our pilots doing Kung Fu back flips down the jet way to a black and gold painted plane that looked like a Chinese New Year decoration. However, the flight turned out to be quite good. Nice plane (A330), friendly (non-Kung Fu practicing) multi-lingual staff, and even little menus for dinner(when was the last time you saw THAT in economy?). And then Haagen-Dazs for dessert. What a way to fly! Seems American airlines could learn a thing or two from these operations.

Arriving in Hong-Kong was to set a precedent for speed, efficiency and amazing service as we cleared passport control, collected our bags, and then met our hotel transfer (we rightly figured that after two days of travel we’d have little patience for finding our way around) where we were offered a drink, a smile and a Sony Playstation loaded with the features of our hotel to watch as we drove in the back of the Mercedes-Benz limo 30 minutes to the Langham Place hotel. Feel free to insert the word “HEAVEN” anywhere you see “Langham Place Hotel” written. That’s right; it’s that nice . . . !

Check it out here, and if you're ever in Hong Kong, this is the BEST place to stay:

http://hongkong.langhamplacehotels.com/

http://www.tripadvisor.com/Hotel_Review-g294217-d305813-Reviews-Langham_Place_Hotel_Hong_Kong-Hong_Kong.html

And so begins our two day adventure to Beijing. After our German meal on Saturday night (pork and fried potato for me, pork, red cabbage and potato dumplings for Lloyd), we both have squidgy bellies through the night. Happily, Sunday is a blog-updating and rest day before we get on the train at 8pm, for Lloyd has an unpleasant night and spends most of the day in bed. It was a good thing too that our hotel (since we moved from Gana’s Ger), the Corporate Hotel, allowed us a late check out: 5pm! We’d recommend the Corporate Hotel as a good base for travelers, despite its name. Recently opened, the hotel still has a few kinks to work out (billing is slow, the ‘breakfast’ wasn’t too appealing), but it was by far the best option we saw in UB (and we checked out several after our Gana’s Guest House fiasco). The only thing we could really fault is the rock-hard beds, but as I told Lloyd, I’ll take that over filth and flies any day of the week. Our time in UB was far more enjoyable with a clean and comfortable base, and it was worth blowing the budget for.

Since arriving in UB, we noticed that half the clocks reflected Beijing time, and the rest were an hour ahead. While a bit confusing, and we were never able to figure out why, we decided to get to the train station for our shared sleeper car to Erlian (just across the Chinese-Mongolian border) at 1845 Beijing time in case the train operated on the other time zone! It did not, and we had some time to sit in the station and wait for our 20:05 train to China. As usual, the train departed on (local) time precisely at . . . 20.25, and smoked it’s diesel way into the Mongolian desert. The ride began with some strangeness, as a Frenchman and his daughter wanted to change cars to be with their travel companions in a different cabin, but ended up asking us to change (reasons as yet unknown). A state of confusion and dismay ensued, and ended with only the father changing cabins, and the young multi-lingual xenophobic daughter (that is to say she was upset by the idea of sharing a cabin with a Mongol and a Chinese, and could say so in French, English and Mongolian!) of the companion couple joining our cabin. The situation reinforced our observations on many of the French with whom we have interacted: they are always faithful and positive role-models of fraternite, egalite and liberte . . . NON!

In any event, our trans-siberian railway experience was put to good use, as we were able to catch a few decent hours sleep. We were appreciative of the dinner sack that was provided (as we stowed the biscuits away as provisions for our bus trip) but decided to avoid the “mystery meat” packet that included what looked to be: a) tongue slices; b) chunk of yellow lard; and c) chunk of white lard.

We were woken by the carriage attendants around 6am, ostensibly to prepare the paperwork for our border crossings, but really so they could spend the next three hours torturing us with smelly cloths and mops which they would use liberally in our cabin, apparently oblivious to the fact that the passengers were still there. When we finally reached the Mongolian border, we were subjected to a stream of immigration officials collecting paperwork. We watched nervously as our passports walked off the train, waiting almost two hours to retrieve them. As the train finally rolled out of Mongolia, we were treated to a line of Mongolian border guards saluting the train as we passed. We thought it was a nice touch.

Just a few miles down the track, the Chinese border was marked not by any sign, but by the sudden proliferation of Chinese flags blazing a red trail. We were excited to have made it to China, but not as excited as the busloads of Chinese waving enthusiastically at us on the train, taking photos with their mobile phones as we passed. I can only surmise that these were Chinese ‘tourists’ visiting the border area for the first time.

No doubt a sign of effective preparations for the Beijng Olympics, our entry into China was one of the fastest and most efficient. We were in line for maybe ten minutes (being filmed by the military with some pretty serious looking cameras), and spent less than a minute each with immigration. Passports stamped, we found ourselves outside the train station where we were quickly retrieved by the non-English speaking agent who was the liaison with our sleeping bus tickets. It was about 11am, and the bus was schedule to leave at 3pm. That said, the only customers for the bus had just got off the train with us, so it was likely the bus would leave earlier (i.e. when every seat was sold). We were left to fry in the mid-day sun while the other non-Chinese passengers completed immigration and made their onward transportation selections. We could have left sooner in a small minivan that likely made it to Beijing faster than us. At $26, it was cheaper than the $30 or so we had paid. But the nightmare journey of Ulan Ude to UB was still quite fresh in our memories, and when the giant, air-conditioned ‘sleeping bus’ appeared, we thought we had found the mecca of long distance bus travel.

The ‘sleeping bus’ accommodates about 40 passengers (and 2 drivers). Think of a really good long distance coach. Imagine it with three rows of beds: one up each side of the bus, and one in the middle. Each row has fourteen bunks (seven in each of two layers), that face feet first to the direction of travel. The top half of each bed is basically more like a very reclined seat, so it’s at an angle of thirty degrees or so, and the bunk isn’t quite long enough to stretch out in (as Lloyd would say: perfect for your average 4 foot person . . . ). But relatively comfortable nonetheless. We boarded the bus, took one look at the stained mattresses and remade our beds with our silk liners (you just gotta LOVE those things…..), and settled in for the 14 hour journey ahead. At about 1.30pm, we were finally on our way.
Or so we thought. At about 1.35pm, we stopped abruptly and were all kicked off the bus. Of course! We had to get the coach WASHED before we could leave. So, we stood around for half an hour while four Chinese ladies scrubbed the exterior, and buffed it to an impressive shine. We were to travel to Beijing in China’s cleanest bus. At least on the outside, that is. Despite the fact that we had to remove our shoes to board the thing, that bus couldn’t be called clean by anyone’s definition. Not even a Mongolian nomad’s.

Just as the Chinese ladies finished up, a second ‘sleeping bus’ pulled up next to the first and a few hand gestures later, we understood that we needed to change buses. Clearly our original bus was now deemed too clean for the group of foreign tourists too stupid to book their train tickets to Beijing in advance. So, the mad dash for bunks was on again! Lloyd and I secured two top bunks (me in the middle and Lloyd by the window) and – finally – we did leave Erlian on our way to Beijing a little after 2.30pm on Monday.

Of note, the highway out of Erlian was dotted with giant, metal dinosaurs that seemed to prompt an arrival into Jurassic Park. Kind of weird.

We stopped at about 7pm for dinner. Lloyd and I were still recovering from our stomach upsets, but there’s no way we’d have had much of an appetite after visiting the restroom facilities. While the dining was indoors, the bathroom was ‘al fresco’ with ladies’ and gentlemen’s areas split by maybe ten metres. Each ‘bathroom’ was a square brick structure (that’s right – a brick s**house!), built to maybe three feet high, and with a door opening (but no door). Inside the brick frame was a pit about 3 wide by 6 feet long, with wooden planks seemingly randomly placed across the width. Beneath the planks lay several feet of human waste: some of it disposable, some of it not (tissue paper, feminine hygiene products etc). The smell was unbearable, even walking up to it. I stood in line and – when it was my turn – got as far as the ‘door’ where one look was more than I could deal with.

After Lloyd had experienced the men’s area, he kindly walked me out to a neighbouring field to take care of a little liquid business, only to find that I was clearly not the first one to have this bright idea. Human waste was strewn all over the field, and we had to literally tip toe through it all. The smell was unbearable, and the wind was particularly unkind to us as were downwind from the ‘real’ bathrooms.

I decided that China was going to be rough and, try as I may, it took me several hours to get the image of that rural ‘convenience’ out of my mind. With the train from Mongolia behind, and the open road ahead to Beijing, we settled in for a long overnight haul on the bus. Compared to the UB bus, this was heaven, and we both snoozed on and off through the afternoon.