We breakfasted at the hotel, hoping really that we might be able to get a Western-style meal. However, we didn’t know how to ask for this, so asked for eggs in the hope that this would make them realise what we wanted. It was not to be, however. Once again, like last night, a great succession of dishes arrived, all Chinese. Tasty enough, but not an egg among them. We finished them all, + thinking our attempt at communication had broken down entirely, we got up to go, but were shooed back to our table by a young waitress, + 5 mins later our eggs arrived. Scrambled they were, + very good too. And the bill this time was even better, Y2.50 for both.
We paid a quick visit to the waterfront to take a photo or 2, then collected our bags + walked up to the station in good time. (The worst thing about the stn is that it is at the top of a stone staircase of 160 steps.) I thought it would be a good idea to make sure our tickets were validated for this journey – we had been assigned seat nos last night but that was for last night’s train. Val couldn’t bear to face the ticket office again, so I went in. It was, after all, my turn. Clearly the girl behind the counter was puzzled when I handed across our tickets, but we weren’t able to communicate at all, so she indicated for me to wait, + returned in a couple of minutes with another girl, one who spoke a little English (but not the same as the one Val had encountered last night, I discovered later.) Even so, it was difficult to communicate exactly what I wanted. “Where did I want to go?” “To Xining.” “Xining?” She looked puzzled. “But first to Luoyang,” I explained. She brightened. “Ah, Luoyang. Not Xining, Luoyang.” “Yes, Luoyang now, Xining later.” “Luoyang,” she repeated. “Not Xining.” And fixing that firmly in her head, she turned to the ticket girl, + barked out a series of instructions. I realised now, with an inward groan, that our ticket to Xining was being refunded, + that we were being issued with tickets to Luoyang. I was dripping with sweat by this time, + I nearly, very nearly, gave up. But I decided to make one last, final effort. I managed to regain her attention, + embarked on as detailed an explanation as I could manage. Ticket to Xining… 6 days… get out Luoyang… walk around… train to Xian… get out, walk around… then to Xining. To my amazement, she understood… I think. At any rate, she handed back the money she had just obtained to give us a refund, + issued a whole new set of instructions. (Both she + the counter-clerk were losing their composure by now.) But within a minute or 2, she handed me a new ticket, the beauty of which being that it started from today, giving us an extra day. As a bonus, she also handed me Y9 as a refund – the people last night has obviously slapped some sort of surcharge onto Val, one which had now been removed. The price of the ticket for 2 people all the way to Xining was Y47.80 – ridiculously cheap.
The girl + I collected Val, + she took us both thro’ to a separate waiting –room, with carpet, cane chairs, hot water + fans, where we were sat down + told to wait. She would put us on the train, she said. So there we sat, very comfortably. However, as time went by, we began to be a little nervous – surely the girl couldn’t have forgotten us. Hardly. I mean, she obviously wasn’t overworked – we were the only responsibility she had. So she looked particularly sheepish when she stuck her head in shortly afterwards to tell us the train had gone. We were angry, of course, but more at ourselves than at her. If we hadn’t been such obedient little fools, sitting there helpless while the train pulled away outside.
But the 3 of us put our heads together over a timetable, to check on what to do. To get to Luoyang, we would have to change trains, + even now we might be able to make the same connection. Before, we would have had a few hours in the intermediate town, enough time to look around – now we would have but 10 mins, cutting things desperately fine. Still, there was nothing to do in the meantime – our train left mid-afternoon. So we left our bags there, + went for a final wander round Yichang. Stopped at first at the dept store – Chinese stores have so many fun things to look at. And we bought a tiny lightweight meths stove for under a dollar. After that we strolled fairly aimlessly, with no object in mind. Even so, I thought I was keeping a reasonable check on the direction we were going, + thought it should be possible to get back by a slightly different route. I was wrong, however, tho’ we walked a long way before giving up + being directed on to a bus, which carried us back along exactly the route we had just taken out. So we grabbed an ice-cream each, re-climbed the steps for what we fervently hoped was the final time, to regain the shelter of our cool haven.
Our conductress was there, + this time made sure we boarded with a good 45 mins to spare. We were delighted to see we were being pulled by a steam train. Like Val, I had been under the impression that the commercial steam train was more or less extinct, but they are certainly alive, well, + numerous in China. There were a couple chugging round the stn, enormous beats they were too, vast versions of the Hornby models I used to play with, but had never seen living + working in the wild!
The train itself was not crowded at all, so we were able to have a long bench seat each. Even then we were moved to another carriage, which was presumably considered cleaner, more comfortable, or in some other way considered more suitable to our needs. It looked exactly the same to me, but if it made them happy…
We were certainly looked after very well – the advantage of novelty value, I suppose – being fetched in good time for dinner, + generally coddled. Other people aboard were generally friendly – we gave one Chinese boy a picture of ourselves, which provoked a lot of interest. And, most important, we were able to convey to the conductor the vital necessity of transferring to the Luoyang train. He spoke no English, but seemed to understand, confirming this by providing the more than welcome piece of information that our connecting train now ran a little late, giving us that much more leeway. He also indicated he would look after us, + was as good as his word. At the connecting stn, he escorted us on to the platform, + handed us over, with a few words of explanation, to a colleague. This chap in turn passed us on to a more senior gentlemen, who in turn handed us over to the care of a conductress. This relay carried us across the stn to another platform – I was just praying that, as in those whispering games one plays at parties, the message hadn’t become impossibly garbled. But no, all went well, + our connecting train steamed in a few mins later. There was a little immediate confusion when we tried to board one of the hard sleeper carriages, for that was what we hoped to change our tickets for, but we were directed further along the train to one of the hard-seat carriages, where we were shown to the office of the chief conductor. There, the transfer was conducted with no trouble. So soon enough, after a cup of coffee, we were climbing into our bunks.
All very confusing, but it was clear that, having made a mistake once, everyone was absolutely determined that such a thing should not happen again, meaning extra-careful attention. And after some time in China when this had been very rarely the case, it was all the more welcome.
And as ever, an inordinate amount of time spent wrangling with officialdom.
