One of the great advantages of these gap-year-type-things (besides maintaining a strict blogging schedule L. M. F. A. O.) is taking advantage of the chance to see the world. Seeing the world, or at least seeing parts of the world where you don't normally live at.
Callum and I had a plan to holiday. We had a plan, and on that plan, in the space next to the months of January and February were written in biro - HOLIDAY. This was all. If we had been left to our own devices we probably would have ridden the tidal wave of the last few weeks of term and then indulged ourselves in several weeks of hibernation. Come mid-February I'm sure one of us would have woken up at four o'clock in the afternoon, looked the other in the eye and said "So now what?".
It was very fortunate for us therefore that our coworker, who is not called Amy, is a grown up and has numerous friends and family members who have wandered the South-East Asia trail. Cambodia, Laos, Vietnam and Thailand are far-off, mysterious lands with laxer drug-laws and currencies on the weaker end of the scale. As-such this part of the world contains more Westerners than a small United State (exaggeration?). Our holiday would take us by boat, bus, plane, train and minivan across some of the most majestic landscapes and bumpiest roads in this fascinating and tragic part of the world.
Callum and I stayed in Duyun for a week longer than Aimee. She had plans to meet an old friend in Thailand and we had plans to watch movies and drink coffee. I certainly needed a break after the end of term which brought more stresses and celebrations than I could have imagined. The Chinese Winter was in full-effect with rain-clouds and mist casting a sombre mood over the dusty streets of Duyun. I took the opportunity to revisit some blockbusters of my youth (Back to the Future, and the adventures of Dr. Jones in particular.) I also experienced some new ones, Gladiator was an interesting experience as I loathed every minute of it but have since found its story and characters revisiting me from time-to-time in my day-to-day life. The Terminal was an interesting experienced because I thoroughly enjoyed it but it has dissolved from my mind like a marshmallow in tepid hot-chocolate. I was warm in my bedroom with my radiator and ventured out only once a day to get some food or plan my journey to the train station (there are two) (both have names in Chinese) (I don't speak it). It was a pleasant, sort of twilight existence cut short when I realised our flight was a day earlier than I thought.
It was in a haze of improvisation and panic that we started our journey. We got a taxi from our flat to the fast-train station or "Duyun East" which I had smartly written into a translator on my phone as opposed to expanding my knowledge and learning some new words and phrases. We arrived at the station 4 hours before our train to Guiyang left as I had only been able to find information about the slow trains to Guiyang online. #Chinaproblems.
The train station of Duyun East is a chilly, tiled, warehouse sized room with a freezing, tiled, warehouse sized room one story above it. It is like a dentist's waiting room if a dentist's waiting room were actually purgatory. The station is similar to most waiting rooms in the world, barren and containing columns chairs just waiting to make your bottom as numb as your immortal soul. This station had two convenience stores containing cured tofu snacks and beef with rice and a sauce that gives new meaning to the word "indigestion" not to mention the word "pungency". It also had a gang of rebellious men smoking next to the No Smoking sign in the toilets. In Summer time there would have been a beautiful view of the Guizhou mountains but instead there was a view of thick, smoggy mist as far as the eye could see. I was listening to the audio-book of Stephen King's It on my iPod but Stephen King's The Shining would have resonated more thematically.
We took the fast train for 40 minutes to reach the airport Longdongbao. It wasn't my first time on one of these vehicles as a year and a half ago Callum and I had travelled down and up Japan with our other half, Andrew and Aaron. Of course that train had given us the chance to see stunning views of rice fields and mega-cities. On this train Callum sat in an old lady's seat but didn't realise it. I felt too sheepish to ask him to get up so I offered her my seat. She didn't want my seat because she actually wanted her seat. I remained seated because whilst I would give up my seat for an old lady I wouldn't give up my seat for Callum. So this train-ride was memorable in its own way. I lay awake at night sometimes wrestling with the guilt.
We had two flights from Guiyang to Thailand. The wait in the middle was thrice as long as the flight-time combined but it was nice to be in an airport again. All of your favourite airport friends were there and it was very odd to see them in China; Toblerone bars; Australian backpackers; that pang of melancholy; Tom Hanks with a long beard and a vaguely un-place-able accent. (That was a The Terminal joke for you. I get that reference now. I hope you enjoyed it. I had to wrack my memory banks.)
It was with a lethargic lurch, indicative of my patchy, two-month-old memories, that we found ourselves in Thailand. It was one o'clock in the morning and I realised that I had no idea how to navigate the immigration system of Thailand. Callum and I walked up and down a long, crowded corridor until we found some forms to fill in. There were three pens for a hundred people and a space on the form for passport photos, which we didn't have. Fortunately, before we spent a small fortune in the photo-booth a nice woman with no English was able to convey to me through gesticulation and weary shouts that this was not the form for me. It was with a little regret that I cast aside two forms, one spoiled and one completed with perfect handwriting and started my long wait in the international immigrants queue.
Before entering Thailand we noticed two interesting forms of local greeting. The first was a suggestion that we wear black tops and black ribbons out of respect for the recently deceased King. He was a pretty swell guy, by all accounts so it was with pride that I showed off my black t-shirt, hoping with futility that people might not notice the massive, tactless skull and crossbones daubed upon it. The other greeting was a request that tourists not purchase cheap, tatty Buddah statues or decide to tattoo the same onto their skin because, hey, deity over here.
I liked Thailand already. It seemed like a distinguished country, both welcoming and strong enough to establish clear boundaries within our burgeoning relationship. What's more, as we stepped out into the midnight air it was warm enough to wear a t-shirt and shorts. We were a long way from China, in more ways than one.
TBC, Tune in next time.
No comments:
Post a Comment