300908 – Great Wall to Beijing

My knee had ached a bit throughout the night, but I managed to sleep in until Adam started banging on the door.
“Guys! We leave in 20 minutes!”

Dom and I executed a rapid exit and managed to be in the first group to check-out. Breakfast had been skipped but I managed to snack on an apple and banana left over from yesterday. Snoozing for much of the journey, the trip back to Beijing was mostly unremarkable.

We no longer had any rooms at the original accommodation, so were dropped in the car-park of a nearby hotel/tourism complex and told to meet back here at 3pm. We four boys went hunting for lunch, deciding that Mr Lee's would suffice for today.

Walking up the street and past our previous hotel, we turned the corner and went into the local restaurant chain. Bundled upstairs, there was no attempt to find us an English speaking waitress or even a menu. Working from memory, we felt brave enough to order from the card provided and were delivered cuisine exactly opposite to what we had been anticipating.
Namely, our cups of Coke had be substituted with a type of chilled barley tea that most of the guys couldn't choke down. Dom ordered a picture of a chicken dish with seasoning that came out chilled. None of us were brave enough to even try it. We were provided with one serve of noodles too many, so Dom still had something to eat, but none of what we received was anywhere near as nice as it had been the day before.

Giving up on the meal and warning the group of girls that ha decided to follow us, we retreated to the MacDonalds next door. We were all feeling poorly and didn't want to risk getting sick. I was still feeling pretty average but hopeful that I'd feel better with a couple of days of safe food and sleep.

Following Adams suggestion and the reported success of Greg and Alice, we set out for the Silk Road markets. A couple of metro stops delivered us at our assumed destination. Two small subterranean streets with vendors on both sides trying to sell us all manners of cheap touristy junk left us a little unimpressed. I was still certain that we weren't actually there yet and convinced the others to at least try and find the street-level. Following a corridor, past a beggar and up some stairs we found a supermarket that was noted for later. We would need to buy supplies for the train.

Suddenly, we were surrounded by an ocean of shoes.

WOW.. lots of them.. even more girls trying to sell each of us a dozen different types of footware.
We had arrived.

The next hour was spent on 3 of the 5 floors of the Silk Road building. There was an entire floor dedicated to shoes, another to bags and a third for clothes. We didn't go to the top two floors for fear of time or ambush. Making our way through the markets was a tag-team effort of avoiding the vendors, making and breaking eye-contact long enough to be evasive, telling the seller blocking your path that the guy BEHIND you needs said shoes... We managed to avoid buying anything. Most of the stalls were simply variations of each other.

Retreating to the lower levels, we stocked up on drinks and snacks for the train. Departing with a little time to spare, we caught the metro back to the centre of Beijing and stocked up on MacDonalds. I was starting to feel VERY ordinary and kept repeating to myself that “the safe food will make you feel better in an hour or two.. it always does..”

Munching my burger through the nausea and pedestrians, we walked the major road back to where the bus would be waiting. Passing through the deserted underpasses and along the side-walks, we made good time. Sitting in the shade by the massive hotel, we waited under the glare of two security guards until Lillian appeared. Suitcase in hand and bus not far behind, we were ready to leave Beijing. It had been a great start to the trip and I would happily come back here for a couple of weeks again in the future.

By 3pm, the entire group was on the bus and we were pulling out of the carpark. The traffic had started to thicken and congeal, but we got to the train station with a good hour to spare. Getting dropped on the opposite side of the road, we had to walk about 500 metres along footpath and across overpasses to get to the entrance. Barricades had been positioned to narrow the flow of people two about 4 people wide. Only two double doors out of the massive articulated window were open to receive passengers and pass them through the two metal detectors and X-Ray machines. We regrouped directly inside the building and moved through what I would have described as a major Airport Terminal to our waiting lounge. The next hour was filled with hunting down snacks, bottled water and toilets as we waited for our train.

When our time had been called, we humped our packs and lined up to get our tickets clipped. Smiling back at the other western tourists, we made our way through the network of corridors and down onto the platform. Passing dozens of carriages, we walked the stretching distance of the train to our carriage. The platform seemed to go on forever, but finally we were there.

Negotiating the interior of the the car, it was hard to remember that most of our travelling companions would be new to the concept of railway transport. Biting my tongue with patience, I finally tossed my hand luggage onto the top bunk and heaved my main pack onto my head before navigating it onto the wide ledge running just below the roof.
When in a multi-person compartment, you never want to be on the bottom bunk. Used as seating during the day, you can only sleep when no-one else wants to sit up. In Russia and Mongolia, I'd always opted for the top bunk. This seemed to keep everyone happy as I slept the most and they all liked having the bottom bunk. Whereas Russian trains had two levels, Chinese trains have three. By being on any bunk about seating-level means you can seek out privacy whenever you see fit. You can choose when you want to sleep versus having your waking hours dictated to you.

We had finally settled in and the train had departed. Our gear had been stowed and some snacks had appeared. It was Charlotte's birthday today and appropriate drinks appeared in short order. I felt a little sorry for her, the new group had not had the chance to really bond well yet and she certainly was having an average time compared to if it was at the end of the trip. Some drinks were laid on, but in a week or two there would have been a cake and probably gifts. Just bad luck and worse timing. Still, drinks were plentiful and stretched into the night. She seemed to have a good time.

For the beginning of the train journey and the rest of the daylight hours, I took the opportunity to sit in the little seat at the window and try and *see* this country. What I saw astonished me.

The smog and haze of Beijing had been significant, looking at nearby buildings gave a white haze that made you want to blink, as though your glasses were fogged or smeared. At times, visibility would have been about 2 kilometres or maybe a little better. Now that we were out of the city, it really hit me.
Directly overhead, you could just make out some blue of the sky. The distance was concealed behind the white and grey screen of smog and the sun was an angry orange and red ball, fighting with the pollution but still safe to look directly at. It was currently 4pm. As the afternoon and the train drew on, the sun dropped a little and dimmed to the brightness of the moon at midday. Eventually, by a little after 5, it had been completely swallowed by the smog. The sky was just a glare of grey and white light.

Escaping through the endless outskirts of the megatropolis, we passed the rapid staccato of various industrial districts divided by low-lying housing and tall residential blocks. The continual march of industrialisation was almost angry. Its fingers, straining and crooked, tearing out into the countryside as fields and little corpses of trees met an abrupt, concrete interface. Like water to sand, the high-density blocks and industrialised zones punctured the farmland.
Our train pounding on, as though it were a river, dragging this development into the outskirts and then the surrounding rural regions. Great torrents of vehicles, fences and construction pouring into the region, splashing out and running together into to pools of activity. This onslaught of progress and industry tore through the hillsides with such velocity, its entourage of smog being dragged along like a vapour trail.
Such is the cost of our world.
Such is the cost of Industry and Progress.
This was our choice.

Finally, the sky grew dark. Escaping the bitter atmosphere, the sun would appear in the morning with new strength. Such was its courage to do battle with the sweat of Global Economics.

The night drew on and more drinks appeared. Charlotte was suitably made a fuss of and was particularly drunk by the time I quietly put the bottle of vodka I got for my birthday back into my main pack. It was about an hour after I went to bed that she realised it had disappeared, complaining that she wanted more to drink. Though it was a fun night, a couple of the girls bared teeth and drew claws, I made myself scarce as soon as the pleasantness started to drop from the conversation.

Just before sleep, I peeked out the window and shone my new laser into the sky. For its entire length, it was a brilliant green beam. There was still so much smog and pollution in the air that you couldn't just see it, you could almost cut it.