Centre of attention
Posted in China | By tim |
We dock in Chongquing, our final river destination, at 10.30am. At 6,300km long, the mighty Yangtze is the third longest river in the world and it sure feels like we’ve travelled a good proportion of its length over the last two weeks. Here at Chongquing, we leave the silty waters behind us and turn from them to the train to carry us onward.
But for now there are more pressing needs like breakfast: great noodle soup from boiling cast-iron pots. Then we part with Peter and friends, somewhat reluctantly because now we know we’re on our own again, and head for the station. The only thing we were without while with them was freedom to do as we pleased. And I did miss that. At the station we know we have a challenge on our hands; this is the first time we’ve tried to purchase long-distance tickets in earnest. Our first problem is choosing which counter to go to. This soon proves academic since all of them are shut for lunch. We’ve done it again.
So we spend a while outside talking and being stared at until the time comes. Having dumped our bags and feeling mobile once more, we pick a long queue at random and hope for the best. Deciphering Chinese symbols we think we’ve seen a suitable train on the printed timetable above the kiosks: the 19:32 to Kunming. We have all the details scripted in beautiful Chinese characters dutifully copied from the book. Expecting to be turned away instantly with ‘méi you’ (no) we are at once surprised when our piece of paper does the trick and we are rewarded with two tickets as required. Just over £10 for a 23 hour trip. Feeling incredibly proud that in the face of all this potential confusion we have come away with exactly what we wanted within 25 minutes, we stride confidently away from the staring crowds and towards the centre of town.
One thing as a ‘paleface’ you can always be sure of in China is being the centre of attention. It suits us well. Centre of town turns out to be a good two miles away in the heat, but we are both glad of the exercise after four days of restless inactivity. Here we find a post office and telecoms centre, great for stamps but less useful for telephoning home since chargecards don’t seem to work here. But Chongquing holds another delight: a bookshop stocking a selection of English fiction. Never missing an opportunity, we buy five hardbacks at knock down prices to read on the train. Suddenly all is roses. Avoiding the tempting KFC we head, instead, to a traditional Sichuanese restaurant. Sichuan is famed for its hot foods and extensive use of chilli. We are not disappointed. Our three dishes are, without exception very very hot with chilli-oil as their base ingredient. It is tasty but desperately painful. I try to hide my flushing face and the beads of sweat on my brow from the amused on-looking gazes of the waitresses around us. It is not as if we have not had time to get used to chilli – almost every food we have eaten here contains it – just that they use it here with such ferocity it leaves my mouth gasping for iced water. Beers actually have the same effect, as we discover, and so it is that at 6pm we stagger out onto the streets, belching painfully and just slightly merry, to do some supply shopping and hail a cab for the station.
Our train is really quite acceptable – open carriages with three tier bunks. It is clean, uncrowded and comfortable in hard sleeper, unlike hard seat hell which is probably raging only a few carriages away. We sit back, stow our bags, sip our green tea to which I am becoming strangely addicted, watch the scenery flash by and even in light of the fact we will lie here for the next 23 hours, are quite content with this travelling thing. Chongquing has been very good to us and with only ten days to go, it seems that despite it’s frustrations, our experience of China is running out on us. I know I must make the most of it now, China will not stay the same for long.
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