Beijing Bound

Trip Start Nov 29, 2008
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Trip End Jan 03, 2009


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Flag of China  , Zhejiang,
Saturday, December 13, 2008

Shanghai is a city in the midst of a major overhaul. It doesn't sleep or even pause to take a breather. The traffic is insane: cars routinely jump curbs to drive on the sidewalks and people maneuver their bicycles as if competing in the Tour de France. Resounding with the cacophony of traffic and heavy construction machinery, the city is constantly striving to surge upward from the rubble of its past. It is changing so quickly that you might not even recognize the same neighbourhood from one week to the next. A good portion of it is hidden by bamboo scaffolding. It has to look worse before it gets better, I suppose. I'm glad I saw it, though, and I look forward to returning when the major part of its facelift is done.
 
Meantime, I won't miss Shanghai as much as I will my friends there. While Ashley didn't have much time because of the demands of his work, he was a gracious host. And when work was over, I would meet him, Kent and Jay at Joy Bar, their favourite local, for a few beers and some adolescent tomfoolery. It's a small but cozy place, where Kiki and Lena, the owner and manager, actively encouraged us to dance on top of the bar.  
 
Of course we obliged-the ceiling pipes make reliable hand holds if your legs are a little wobbly from the drink, and they're fun to swing from. Ash and I also danced our buns off at Red Beat, where the house band of Filipino girls called "Hi Ashley!" on their mics as soon as we arrived. We sipped drinks on the Bund at Captains Bar and watched Pudong, including the outrageously space-age Oriental Pearl TV tower, turn on after sunset. We went to Guandii, where a banana-yellow Lamborghini was parked out front and the locals lounged in a labyrinth of mirrored rooms, coolly flashing their cash. We dined on succulent coconut curries with Ashley's friend Kevin at Thai-Riffic, and spicy-sweet Shanghai cuisine at a local restaurant where Kevin translated the all-Mandarin menu.
 
In short, we had a ball.
 
Now it was time to take a page out of Shanghai's book and look forward, not back. I was Beijing bound.
 
At the train station, I hauled my suitcase onto the conveyor belt for the security check. I had no problem deciphering my train ticket or interpreting the signs to go to the correct waiting room, where I stocked up Tuck crackers and milk tea in a bottle for the journey. The crowd was a massive collection of chattering humanity, but when it came time to queue up for the train everyone moved quickly through the gates. China may be crowded, but the people know how move calmly and efficiently.
 
When we reached the bottom of the stairs, there was carriage 13 directly in front of me. Relieved at this small mercy, I found my bunk and crawled into it. The blanket and pillow were clean and soft. I draped my legs over my backpack with my laptop in it and got comfy. A thin, rumpled old man smiled at me from his bunk across the aisle. The train slid out of the station and began to make its way in the darkness towards Beijing. Soon the chatter settled into silence as passengers drifted off into sleep. The old man began to snore softly. The train rocked gently on its tracks. Then I, too, was asleep.
 
***
TIP: On China's sleeper trains, it's best to take the middle bunk. People tend to sit and chat on the bottom bunks, oblivious to whether or not you want to sleep, and the top bunks are so high that you have quite a climb. The downside of being in the middle or the top is you have less room for your luggage. The people on the bottom tend to take up the free space on the floor, though if you ask they might make room for you. The middle bunks are the most popular, so book as far in advance as possible before they're sold out.
 
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