The drugs don't work
Trip Start
Oct 01, 2005
1
118
158
Trip End
Jul 21, 2007
Beijing, China
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
The day before, we had been dropped off at Peking University by our kind student friends, one of whom, who spoke particularly good English, had accompanied us to the on-site ticket office, and we learned that as the train line was enormously busy we must wait 2 extra days for a sleeping ticket. Reasoning that we would arm ourselves with an bagful of Tsing Tao beer, sleeping bag and pharmaceutical sleeping draughts, we would be fine, but as we waited to be let through the gate and onto the platform, under the fascinated observation of 90% of the Chinese people around us, serious doubts lingered.
As we boarded the train these doubts were doubly confirmed. This was no carriage for an overnight journey. Perhaps a half hour inter-suburb jaunt at most! Whoever had designed this layout and seating arrangement must have been an inveterate sado-masochist. The chairs were in rows of three facing each other, with a table in between that stretched only as far as the end of the first pair. The seats themselves were 90 evil degrees of hard plastic, which some sick bastard had covered with a piece of cotton to create the illusion of comfort. In actual fact the platforms bestowed on the occupier the same level of comfort as an iron maiden.
I am exaggerating as is my wont, but i'm telling you it was not pretty. As we were the only westerners in the carriage and probably the whole train we were stellar attractions; people continually filtering in from other areas to have a gawp. It was perfectly innocent curiosity though and we dug out the phrase book and dived in to enquire as to the whereabouts of the hot water, the dining carriage etc. (we discovered that passengers with seat only tickets were denied access to the veritable luxury of the dining carriage, in case they had to be forcibly extricated from the comparably comfortable seats).
Everyone in China who rides on a train has two things. A pot noodle, and a flask of tea leaves which can be repeatedly dowsed. Being by now, down with the locals we also carried these necessary supplies along with the other extras. The horror was further mitigated by the other passengers in our six person bay. The lottery revealed a clean cut and pleasant smelling fellow who hailed from our destination: Pingyao, and a wee slip of a girl, both of whom occupied the window seats. Mercifully the remaining seat was vacant, allowing for stretchage options.
The journey began at 7pm and the train began crawling along, stopping at every backwater for a stupid amount of time. However we were still in fairly good spirits, and amid the staring and regular sharp hacking noises from the other pews we were managing to amuse ourselves with food, beer, flasks of tea, ipod, reading, lyric game, oining each other and laughable attempts at Mandarin conversation with the locals.
Around 11pm the lights were dimmed a little to suggest to the passengers that it was time to fall into a peaceful slumber, and our eyelids duly began to droop a little. So around came a Valium and a Temazepan each, which my learned colleagues were assured would transport us all to the land of ultimate chill and then a deep sleep, despite the physical discomfort we were undergoing. This was mistake number two.
Like Pavlovs dogs all the Chinese people slipped into unconsciousness as if they had been twatted with frying pans (and in the most unorthodox positions!). The same did not befall us. Out came the sleeping bags to provide neck support, but what with the stuffiness of the cabin, the numb arse, and the additional thoughtful torture feature of a plastic ledge at the top of the chair at head level, which kept your skull pushed forward, sleep was a long, long way off.
There were three exceptions to the other unconscious passengers. Number one was a guy two seats away who had been scrutinising us constantly since our arrival through terribly squinty eyes. His expression was an even blend of intense concentration and deep suspicion. As he maintained this glare he mechanically (and audibly) popped sunflower seeds into his mouth one after the other. ALL NIGHT LONG.
Nemesis number two was the sleepless geezer just a couple of feet away across the aisle. Obsessed with some unknown game on his mobile, which required the tandem consultation of a magazine and a feverish tap, tap, tapping on the keypad. ALL NIGHT LONG. Actually, only until around 5am when the phone must have died on him and he dashed it in frustration against the window.
The final insomniac was a guy who I could see gormlessly gazing at me open mouthed between the seats, behind Nicks head.
All this was not easing our plight. And ironically the pills were only compounding the problem. As we shifted our position to try in vain for some pleasing angle, we could not achieve more than a minutes continuous rest, but at the same time the downers would not allow us to remain awake. We found ourselves in a horrible limbo-land of our own creation.
Due to one of the detrimental factors, every two minutes I would come out of the fragile sleep with my jaw at full extension. With gormless bloke gaping at me and squinty boy carefully inspecting my tonsils as if they were the twin players in some great conspiracy.
Droopy eyed the night wound tortuously on, and as I went to the toilet at 6am to relieve myself, only to find the place completely caked in diseased smelling shit, I thought, this has to be one of the most horrendous journeys ever.
My colleagues concurred, and after the arrival time of 7am had passed we began to get irate. The ordeal ended at 7.34am and we all vowed never to get an overnight sleeper seat ever again.
