» Public Transport Trauma

China...
China. The third largest country in the world, home to over a billion people. Despite being the second largest economy in the world, most Chinese people are too poor to afford cars (less than 20% of people have them). So long-distance travel is done by train or by bus.
These services can vary wildly.

The nicest train I have ever been on was in China, the Tourist Train from Ji'nan to Qingdao (an ex-German occupied city which still produces China's finest lager). This was a double-decker train (!), virtually empty, with an extremely attractive Chinese girl pushing a trolley up and down the train selling cool lagers. Heaven.
Mistakenly, me and my Aussie travelling buddy Robert hoped all transport would be like this during our trip.

A bit of travel round China later, we faced a dilemna: how to get from Xi'an (home to the Terracotta Warriors & generally wonderful city) to Shanghai. This is 600 miles.
We opt for a train journey again. It was fun last time, right?

So the day before we plan to leave we buy tickets, reserve seats, etc. The station is large, mainly empty and very pleasant. It even has a bookstore selling English books- I pick up several, including Heart of Darkness.

The next day we arrive at the station half an hour early to find it full over people. Seriously full. Not just Kings-Cross-At-Rush-Hour full. FULL. And no-one is moving.
But we try anyway. By this time the veneer of Western civilisation has been stripped away from us, the concept of fair game and queuing no-longer exist in our minds. We have a goal: the train. We have tools: superior height, combined with bags and elbows. So we employ our advantages, mercilessly crushing all in our path.
And, amazingly, in the following half an hour we actually get to our platform, and see our train. In fact, we are just in time to see it pull away.

Fuckbuckets.

Luckily, my handy Aussie pal Robert speaks fragmentary Chinese. After a brief hour-long argument, he procures us a refund. Meanwhile, I have been perusing the Lonely Planet, and have had A Cunning Plan.
The sleeper bus! A brief 15 hour trip, and we could be in Shanghai! And it's a bus, with beds! What a wonderful idea!

The next afternoon, we arrive at the bus station, and meet our new carriage. It's quite as perfect as in my mind.
The beds are bunk beds, both 50cm wide by 100cm long- not as spacious as I imagined, and rather difficult to fit my 6'2" frame plus huge rucksack into. At least we're both lanky.
There are three rows of bunks in this odd vehicle, two along the sides and one down the middle. We opt for the window- me on the top bunk, my friend below.

And so begins hell.

There are simply Too Many People in too small a space. Let alone the fact that these are Chinese people, and there's a culture of spitting. We are subjected to a constant barrage of noise- farting, burping, spitting, sniffing, scratching, screaming children...
It's even worse for Robert, as the lower bunks are routinuely used as seats by people even when occupied. He's suffocated several times.
I hide in my bunk, trying to ignore everyone and reading Heart of Darkness.

This was a very apt choice of book. As it goes on, the lead character's contempt for the natives becomes stronger and stronger, becoming a burning hatred of their whole race. I know how he felt.

There is also no edible food. We stop twice at petrol stations with horrible attached cafes, but the food is less stir-fried and more oil-boiled, and made of never-fresh veg and slimey lumps of tofu.

The loo on the bus is a hole in the ground, in common with most loos in China. This one is a tad more dangerous tho- it's an actual hole in the bottom of the bus, with the road rushing beneath you. To stop people falling in, it's a very small hole. Balancing over the hole whilst the bus is bumping around and trying to shit is not an easy task- as the floor of the small loo cubical's covering of shit and piss proves.
I use it once, and then try not to think about it. The smell makes this difficult.

The bus has entertainment- a constant supply of Jackie Chan films on a small tv up near the front, in Chinese with no subtitles. These are fun for an hour or two, then tedious, then incredibly fucking repetitive, and then you go mad.

Oh well, I think, as I try to sleep. At least we'll be in Shanghai by morning.

Except we weren't. The time of arrival comes and goes, and poor Robert goes increasingly mad trying to make the angry hag steward tell us why we're not there yet, and when we will be there. This is amusing for a couple of hours, and then becomes deeply worrying. Will the journey never end? Are we heading to the right place? Why the delay?

Eventually, after a 30 hour trip (twice the advertised time!) we arrive. Our leg muscles barely work as we've only had a two chances to use them during the journey, we've had very little sleep, and we both have a deep burning hatred of the Chinese. But at least the trip is over.

The Horror! The Horror!

(Robert's version of this tale can be found at www.thebackpacker.net/travelstory/5250_xian_story.htm, or google "sleeper bus china")

I would apologise for length, but now you know how I felt...
(Thu 29th May 2008, 19:28, More)