Holiday in 'The North'

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1 October

This year the national holiday started today so we were afforded a few days away from work. We decided to travel to the north of Gansu after seeing pictures and hearing about the area from one of Bine's colleagues. So we got up at a leisurely hour, breakfasted then caught a taxi to the south bus station for the usual mêlée - or so we expected. In fact the only ‘accosters’ were car drivers almost demanding we employ their services to reach Xian, sorry fellas, we favoured the cheaper option: gong gong qi che (bus). We were charged 65¥each despite our best bargaining efforts and boarded the bus which as per, lingered in the hope of late travelers before finally hitting the road at 11.10am. A hot and smoky five hours later we rolled into Xian, after a elongated journey due to a puncture and subsequent repair, at a different bus station to usual (always expect the unexpected). Using a little info gleaned from newspaper kiosk staff and luck we traversed the south-west corner of the city and walked into the Xiangzimen youth hostel in time to meet the sister of one of our NVs (Kiko) and a friend. At the same time we discovered Sabine had left her huzhao (passport) in Xifeng! So after some calls to her school, and discussion with the hostel staff re staying without a passport - no way Jose, copies of the relevant pages were produced by the fax machine. Meanwhile I ventured out to obtain money to pay Kiko’s sister for the train tickets she had purchased for us (but that’s another story). An hour later all was sorted, we had all we needed and were just about to get food when we spotted Cheryl, another volunteer from Xifeng, in the lobby. Following surprised hellos etc. we arranged to eat together and promptly set off into the throbbing metropolis that is Xian. Half an hour later we had wandered into the Muslim quarter and were enjoying jiao zi (dumplings) and beer. Eventually we headed back to the Xiangzimen and relished a night cap before hitting the sack in our four bed dorm.

2 October

Up early at 7.45, breakfasted at the hostel then out to get more spondoolix before a 611 to the train station. We boarded the K591 to Dunhuang just before 11am then set about swapping Bine’s bunk to one in my compartment. The time passed quickly, contrary to our previous long-distance train journeys, and it was soon time for our evening pot noodle followed by sunflower biscuits for afters. After stopping in Lanzhou to collect more passengers we acquired new compartment-mates. The father was a bit of a card, happy to interact and encourage his son to make conversation with us, to no avail. The whole family then settled to a game of cards with other family members visiting from other compartments. Eventually the lights went out at half past ten and we bedded down. The night was restful until I was jolted awake at 3.45, thereafter drifting in and out of slumber until 7.30.

3 October

The train station is about a dozen miles out of town in Dunhuang so a 3¥ bus ride filled this gap before a two minute walk to the Fei Tian Hotel. We were early for check-in so enquired after tours and trips in the area and had brunch at a westernized café up the street. The ‘Pakistan’ sandwich (fried onions, peppers and garlic) and carrot juice went down well. Bine settled for an egg and tomato doorstep and an expensive coffee (‘cause I was paying). At 1.30ish we checked-in at the hotel then met Cheryl to visit the Mogao caves. Flagging a taxi down, we bargained the price down to 80¥ for a return trip. The journey took a touch longer as the driver skirted around a tollgate via some dusty back roads. Upon arrival we agreed to pay half up front and would meet the driver back at the cab in two hours. The caves, or more correctly, the grottoes cost 180¥ per person including English-speaking guide but I realized quite soon we were still ‘caved out’ from other caves we have visited so we were not as enchanted by the 27m Bhudda or the ancient wall paintings as we might. The three of us rendezvoused at 4.30 as planned ready for a quick drive back to Dunhuang, however the driver had other ideas. We stopped at a dried fruit shop and a fossil shop on the return leg and then to cap it all he tried to charge us extra! We just paid our balance and left.

Following a rest at the hotel we three then meandered through the night market and eventually grabbed a deck chair and ordered some tasty shao kou (bar-b-que) and beer.

4 October

We slept in until 11am today, because we could. A quick wash n brush up later, as there was a lack of hot water, we collected out return journey train tickets then visited Charley Jong’s Café to book a desert trip. Our luck was in, they managed to squeeze us in to make a group of 15 leaving at 4pm. With time to kill we spent a leisurely afternoon wandering the streets near the empty market which a few hours earlier had been alive with the sounds and smells of Dunhuang.

Just before 4pm we stashed some gear at the Fei Tian (2¥ for overnight) then ambled down the street where we and a young guy from Hong Kong were loaded into a cramped minibus with camping supplies. Ten minutes later we disembarked in a small clearing with sand dune backdrop whilst more of the group arrived. 3 x five camels were brought to the clearing whereupon much photography ensued. Now it was time to saddle up. Despite being witness to people boarding and dismounting camels on TV, firsthand experience still came as a surprise. The camel is commanded to ‘sit’ on its haunches then you are instructed to be seated on the saddle. I say saddle, it’s a tough, stuffed rug and two lengths of 2 by 2 tied together with cord. Then, here’s the good bit, the camel gets up. Now, because it has long, articulated legs it cannot just raise itself skyward in one smooth movement, it must stand in stages. These stages cause a series of violent back and forth actions which the passenger is subjected to. So it’s akin to being on a bucking bronco as the upright position is assumed. Within half an hour all were assembled: 15 paying guests aboard their charges and three hosts, one to lead each group of connected camels. So off we set along a dusty track, the sun still burning down at gone 5pm, with everyone in good spirits. It being the first time on a camel I presumed it would be similar to riding a horse or other more traditional quadruped. Oh no. Maybe due to the design of the camel’s anatomy or its idiosyncratic gait, I’m not sure but it’s a very up and down experience, all the more emphasised when any pace above that of walking is attempted. In fact if the camel had decided to run I’m convinced my backside would have paradiddled between the humps. Two hours of up and down dunes later and we were in a shaded bowl, presumably a favoured overnight stop judging from marks in the sand and copious camel dung.

Once off our transport many immediately scampered up the highest dune to view the setting sun. However as we all saw the cloudy sky put paid to a textbook sunset. Due also to the wind whipping up curtains of sand, most beat a hasty retreat back to camp. The brave (or stupid?) remained to snap the disappointingly, hazy sun before sprinting down the dune to be allotted our tents for the night. Each a brightly coloured 5’ by 5’ of dome (much to my consternation, I’m 6’ 2”!). After a few more photos we assembled around the gas ring - well we had no wood for a real campfire! to be served our canteens of instant noodles, processed sausages (Bine had to settle for huan gua (cucumber)) and bin zi (bread). Conversation was lively but there seemed to be two distinct groups: English speakers and Chinese. I guess you instinctively stick to what you now best.

So under a full moon but with few stars due to the cloudy sky, we all gradually retired to our nylon igloos for some shuteye. The sand may have been soft to walk on but felt stiff to sleep on.

5 October

After a fitful night we were awoken by one of our hosts at about 7am to see the rising sun. But the clouds were reluctant to assist our view so we photographed the hazy, pinkish light instead. Some snaps of camels, camels and people and camels and sand dunes later - well what else was there? - we had our breakfast of cake and coffee whilst our tents were packed and loaded onto our quiet, quadruped pals. At just turned 8am everyone saddled up for the return leg. It remained chilly as the sun fought to vapourise the cloud but it didn’t bother anyone and we rolled into the clearing at around 10am a satisfied band of travelers. Camels are cool!!

Once back on our own two feet there was a hasty swapping of e-mail and blog addresses before each group were returned to the town by taxi. Sabine and I felt a little dazed, it all seemed over too quickly. One minute we were aboard camels in the Gobi desert, the next we were in, for all intents and purposes, another Chinese town centre. After gathering ourselves we returned to the Fei Tian for a lick and a promise before some tasty noodles across the street from Charley’s. Our bus to the huo che zhan didn’t leave until early evening so we hired a brace of bikes and two metal bowls and headed back to the desert to try our hands (or rather backsides) at sand surfing. We climbed a small but steepish dune, sat on our tin bowls and… nothing happened. It seemed the harder we tried to push ourselves along, the deeper we went. Oh well, they only cost us 70 pence. However we were still intent on sliding down the sand so we rode to the official dune surfing area entrance. After asking a few people for advice we paid our 120¥ pp and prepared to throw ourselves down a dune on little more than a wooden serving tray. One indispensable item of dune surfing wear, we were told, were gaiters: oversized, fluorescent orange, nylon boot covers. 10¥ each later and we looked like extras from Ghostbusters. We took Shanks’ pony up the mountain of sand, instead of camels for 45¥ pp! Ultimately the experience was an anticlimax. The route we took (all we had time for) led us to a minor slides and not the major descent. Any road up we arrived at the start of the run and were told it would be 20¥ each for the 8-second pleasure. We bargained down to 28¥ for both of us (all the change we had) and jumped in the inflated truck inner tubes for the over-too-quickly, dusty ‘flight’, accompanied by hollering from the slide owner. Well, at least we can say we slid down a sand dune in the Gobi desert.

After returning our ‘fluorescent feet-covers’ we collected our bikes and set off at a pace so as not to incur extra time costs. We made it back then devoured a bowl of noodles each to replenish dwindled energy supplies.

All that was left now was to buy food for our long train journey and collect our gear from the hotel. We proceeded to the bus station, ‘Sorry, no tickets to Liuyuan left! Brilliant. However, as is the norm, several minibus drivers were eager to strike a deal. We struck one: 30¥ each and loaded our bags into his vehicle. Two minutes later it was very apparent, although no explanation was forthcoming, he had sold ‘our’ seats to other passengers (possibly at an inflated rate) and we were out on our ears! Feeling deflated, as one would, we returned to the official ticket window and were told this was the last bus until ming tian. Double brilliant. Just then a man approached us (it sounds like an adventure novel) and offered to take us to Liuyuan for 80¥. We tried to bargain but he was resolute. After enquiring about the same journey with a regular taxi driver and being overwhelmed by his quotation of 150¥ minimum we wandered away dejected. As we rounded the corner near the bus station another man approached us (this is definitely sounding like an Alistair MacLean story) and offered us the ride for 70¥. We snapped his proverbial off and duly loaded our bags into his boot. We were quickly joined by two other passengers and set off in earnest.

The road seemed interminable. Straight, uneven and dark. We continued for about two hours after which my backside felt like silly putty, eventually arriving at Liuyuan train station. After a brief wait we were directed onto the K596 via a dark and draughty platform and began moving out of the station at exactly 10.04pm. I was hungry so scoffed a pot noodle for supper before we both settled down in our bunks.

6 October

I awoke at 7ish feeling like I’d had two hours sleep so dozed for a while as the day began around me. Bine visited from the next compartment at 9ish before starting her breakfast. I hung on ‘til nearly ten before passing the time writing my diary until lunch time or more accurately pot noodle time. At 12 we paused in Lanzhou again then continued east. The afternoon passed without incident until our last pot noodle of the day at 5ish. Bine read. I pondered world peace and the possibility of cheap deodorant in China. We disgorged in a cool Xian with light rain at 9.50pm and took a 603 for15 minutes to the Bell Tower hostel. After checking in and showering we went straight to bed.

7 October

We awoke earlyish so decided to get up and tucked into a hearty western-style breakfast before heading to Metro (French supermarket). With supplies stocked and noodles for lunch we collected our gear from the hostel and bussed to the station for our ride home to Xifeng. We usually pass by through the ticket office directly to the bus bays to bargain with the driver over the ticket price but things had changed. We were directed to buy our tickets officially first before boarding for the home stretch. 135¥ lighter we headed out of a drizzly Xian. The journey usually takes 4-5 hours but not today. After being held up due to a traffic accident involving about six vehicles, mostly trucks, and cruising the suburbs of Xian to procure more passengers, we finally reached Xifeng seven hours later at 9.30. We tiredly trudged up our five flights of stairs and fell into bed. Sleep came quickly.

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