Taxi Trouble

This morning we took a taxi to Beijing Central Railway Station to catch our train to Datong. When we tried to buy tickets, we found out that the Datong train actually left from Beijing Eastern Railway Station (the girl at the hostel was incorrect). We caught another taxi there, but just missed our 10:10 am train. So, we bought tickets for the 1:40 p.m. train and settled into the lovely waiting lounge for a few hours. We were bummed, but what can you do? Nige had a beer for breakfast, and we shared some instant noodles. We tried to get into the "fancy" waiting room, but since we only had hard seat tickets (the lowest class of tickets, and the only thing available on this train), we weren't allowed without paying, so we kicked it with the locals. The waiting room wasn't too bad, but there were cigarette butts, trash, and copious amounts of spit all over the cement floor. We had plenty of stares here too. We were definitely the only Western people we saw the entire time, including on the train. We have created our own little game called "Spot the Whitey" which we play while waiting for transport or walking around the streets. Although it was a long wait, there was a bit of entertainment. There were paralysed beggars sliding around on the floor on a piece of cardboard, headbutting people in the knees until they gave him some money (amazingly, he skipped right past us). At one point the stares shifted away from us to 2 rival bums, engaging in a bum fight over territory. It was short-lived when the security came and took one away. There was a small girl about 4 or 5 years old, going from group to group asking for money in a little song. She was cute, but filthy. I really wanted to give her some money, but I knew her mother was probably just around the corner to take it from her. The guy next to us gave her a pocket full of pistachios.

When it was time to board the train, you would have thought there was a sighting of Chairman Mao out on the platform, as everyone rushed, pushed, shoved and collided their way through the gate. This is something we've gotten used to, as any queue may have designated structures, but the people just jump in front of you and shove their way to the front, even if you're in the middle of a purchase at a counter. The Chinese people in general give the apperance of being very impatient. Having said this, there is no aggression or foul language because this is just the way it is (although we tend to get a bit annoyed). I didn't walk through the gate to the platform so much as get carried like in a mosh pit.

The 6 hour trip to Datong wasn't too bad. The hard seats aren't actually hard. They're like Greyhound bus seats, but there is little leg room and they don't recline. There were 2 seats facing 2 others across a small table, and 3 and 3 on the other side of the aisle. I sat across from 2 old guys and a mum with a 2 year old who we weren't sure if he/she was a boy or a girl, but he/she was cute and slept on the table the entire time. Nigel sat next to a young girl called Shung Li, a Chinese girl from Datong, and across from a young Chinese couple. The trip could have been a lot worse, as smoking is allowed in hard seat carriages, but no one around us was smoking. There was however ear-splitting Disney-like Chinese music blaring from the speakers the whole time.

When we reached Datong, our bad luck with taxis continued for the day. It was easily -10 degrees Celsius out if not colder. We got into a taxi and pointed to the hostel we wanted to go to. He took us to some building closed off with a gate. We think he was trying to tell us the hostel was closed, but it may not have even been the right place because it was on a different street. So, we pointed to another hostel but he seemed not to understand. After several attempts, we just pointed to the train station. After more driving, he took us down a dark, deserted dodgy alley, at which point we shouted "No! Please turn around!." I won't even describe the images that went through my mind. He pulled back out onto the road and down the next alley, which turned out to be a monument we had on the map in our book. Since we wanted a hostel, not a monument, we pointed at the train station again and Nigel kept saying "You. Take us Here. Now. Drive. Go." We ended up completely in the opposite direction at another tourist site. We finally managed to get him to drive away (almost being side-swiped by an oncoming taxi), and had him drop us off at a fancy hotel we had passed earlier. We were just glad to get out of that taxi. The staff there was helpful but we couldn't afford it, despite Nigel's fantastic bargaining skills. He's becoming quite the expert at it. We got in a different taxi and pointed to the train station. He took us directly to the hostel we wanted to go to after finding out the first one was closed. So, 1 hour and 40 Yuan later, we checked into the hotel directly adjacent to the train station.

It was a cheap place, but the showers were communal stalls, divided by low tiled walls and no doors. The water pipes ran along the cement walls and ceilings. The lighting was very dim, which was probably a good thing. It reminded me of photos I have seen of Nazi gas chambers. Eerie. But, they were hot, and we went to bed after chatting over a beer with the nice girl from Melbourne who we shared a room with.