finally chilly
by the Mama, who loves to have an excuse to wear a shawl
Beijing, China
There’s nothing quite like admiring a sunrise and feeling like you have a head start on the day. And nothing quite like watching the glow spread across the sky and touching your hand to the window….sun shining, but COLD outside. At last.
By 7am we were disembarking into the fridge, enjoying the novelty of a single digit temperature. With thoughts of *stillCOLDERplease* on the horizon, we set out to buy our onward train tickets to Deepest Mongolia. But no! We were at the train station, and a busy humming place it was too, but that is not where one buys train tickets (not international ones anyway). Who woulda thought?! You hafta go to the Beijing International Hotel. Ah, of course!
Having only just jumped off one train, looking not unlike a mule train ourselves, and suspecting we may have just hit the mighty morning rush-hour, we dispatched a small reconnaissance group consisting of the two men and two smallest girls to find a bus to the hotel. The rest of us settled down for what we knew might be a long wait. It would turn out to be not only long (over four hours), but also cold, and the longer we sat on the marble benches, the more the cold seeped into our bones. I had to remind the children this was what they’d been looking forward to!
But we received a warm reception from fellow travellers and friendly policemen. The police, doing their rounds of the station in a little motorised cart, warned us to move our bags closer to us and watch them more carefully. It was not until I showed them how we had strapped them all together like a bowl of spaghetti, that they let me sit back down (on the cold marble seat). Nevertheless, they positioned their cart not far away and kept a literal eye on us for quite some time. As crowds gathered around, they shoo-ed them away. Eventually they found more pressing matters to attend to, and a small crowd gathered until interest waned and they were replaced by another…and another…and another. So much for our theory that Hong Kong was impersonal, because it was big.
In time, the ticket buyers returned, successful, having had adventures of their own, which they relayed as we trudged up the stairs out of the Deep Freeze into the blazing midday sun. So much for our head start to the day; it was already half over and we were only just leaving the train station!
Our new “Beijing folk are friendly” theory was about to be revised.
After quite some investigative work, we find the bus stop. What’s more the right bus is just pulling up AND there is hardly a queue. At precisely this moment an extra couple of dozen people realise they too want this particular bus and they are determined to get on it. In a matter of seconds we go from being almost at the head of the queue to decidedly at the back. But with more people approaching, we then find ourselves in the middle. Time for a decision. Either we all get on or none of us do. Rob’s adrenaline must be pumping, because he makes the totally irrational decision that, although the bus is almost full, we will fit…and he issues the command. Two little kids climb up and so now we are committed. But so is the rest of the crowd. A couple of them shove some of our kids out of the way and we realise desperate times call for desperate measures. I position the folded-up stroller in front of a very pushy man with a huge sack balanced on his head, while Rob simultaneously sticks his arm out to prevent the onslaught from the other side. We manage to push some more kids in before Sack Toting Man kicks the stroller aside and forces his way in front of us. Now the bus is almost at capacity (Chinese capacity, that is – it’s already well past Kiwi comfort limits!), seven children are on board, but no adults! Rob valiantly holds back increasingly agitated Sack Man’s Friend (who has a sack of his own) and someone pushes me up the stairs – that is, my face goes up, but my feet fly out backwards from underneath me. Somehow I regain balance, if not composure, and squeeze as best as one can with 25kg on one’s back up the aisle. Rob follows close behind and a kerfuffle ensues with the driver bellowing at Sack Man’s Friend and closing the door on the last passenger admitted – thankfully, it’s Dad!
More shouting erupts, this time from halfway up the bus, and before we know it, Sack Man is disembarking, having gone nowhere. Presumably to rejoin his friend.
The day no longer feels quite so cool.
When the sun goes down, the breeze picks up, we check the online weather forecast and cold hopes are revived. In spite of the fact that I doubt snowflakes will be falling in the city, everyone is excited, because Sunday’s forecast is for a high of 4 degrees and a 30% chance of snow. THAT, in the children’s minds, is a Very Good Chance and they have visions of building snowmen on the Great Wall!
Tags: children, postcard: China, transport
rayres
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