The Nightbus to Wuhan
// January 24th, 2008 // China
This breaks the order a little bit, but it turned out to be an eventful stage in the trip so i’ll post this now while its fresh in my memory and then work backwards to Shanghai and the general china posts later. I’m sitting in the bunk of a Chinese night-bus. Its my first time on a night-bus, i’ll describe the scene for you:
Ever wondered what its like to be a chicken in a chicken coop? You should ride the Chinese night-bus. A mere 20euros will secure you a prime coop for 14 hours of fun all the way from tongkau to wuhan. None of the freedom of free range here sonny, exhaling is strongly discouraged.
Its a normal sized bus, split into three rows. Each row has 7 sets of top and bottom bunk beds with metal frames. Your legs go under the head of the person in front and the back of the bed archs upwards to create a pocket of space for the person behinds legs and feet to fit. In total about 45 of us are on the bus. The aisles are so narrow that I have trouble walking down them and i’m almost so thin i’m 2d. Fat people are not welcome on the night-bus, not that china seems to have any. I’m lying under the green standard issue night-bus duvet. The duvet smells of death, chinese death (cigarettes, and fatty food). When I say lying, i am in fact lying. In England I’m only noticeably tall, because i’m even more noticeably thin, the two combined emphasising each other making people want to buy me a warm meal or two. But in China i’m 2inches or so below the put in a cage and poke with sticks height. My height has caused no real problems in China until now. Climbing into the bunk I feel like that little folding guy in Oceans 11. Perhaps George Clooney will wake me up during the trip to take part in a heist at the mirage. The bunks not designed for anyone over the dizzy heights of 5ft 10′, lying with my legs straight is impossible. I got cramp just looking at the bunk. Climbing in well…let me see if i can just…that’s it…a little more….legs back tiny bit…..wrap them round my head….hip bones connected to my thigh bone…do the hokey kokey….success! Only the third least comfortable I’ve ever been in my whole life. To my right is a window (i’m in the right hand-row). I’m pretty sure its there for the amusement of people looking into to the bus at the passing freak show, than for ours looking out.
I don’t think we’re the most popular people on the bus. Perhaps because Annett has a psychological disorder that requires her to need the toilet two minutes after we waved goodbye to the last one. A clue should have been when I heard her practicing the mandarin word for toilet “cesou” repeatedly as she was getting into her bunk, before we’d even left the bus station, even though we only went to the toilet 10mins before we got on. The crew now look at us like we’re retarded, making such a big deal of signalling and verbalising exactly where the toilet was on the first pee break (her requested pee break) that I thought he was going to follow me, unzip and hold “it” for me, in case i missed.
The head of the crew is the driver, a Chinese version of john wayne, and his crew of 4 helpers. He’s missing the spiky star on the back of his heel, but i’ll forgive him. He looks like he and his crew have pounded rubber on these roads for century’s. We should be in safe hands, as Chinese roads are like nothing i’ve ever seen, “destruction derby” springs to mind (more on that in another post). None of them speak any english so lets hope whats to come is simple and straightforward.
We’re three hours or so into the journey, me, Chinese John Wayne, 40 or so passengers, and a ranting german girl on my left. “Chinese people are so disgusting” (no-one in China speaks a word of english it seems) she is shouting at the top of her voice, as the man in the bunk above spits into a carrier bag. Not a subtle spit, the full blown hock and release proudly sported by all Chinese people at 5 minute intervals. Theres a “better out than in” belief here in china so its totally okay to spit, burp and fart at will. Particularly spitting, they spit like we breath, that hooocking sound will be the sounds track to this journey as it has been to the past two weeks. The guy on her left snoring loudly and with enough conviction to make me think he would snore through an Armageddon. I’ve already heard the woman behind me burp and fart numerous times. The person behind her is one of those “phone people”, they frequent public transport the world over, you know the sort – i must take this phone call or the world will end. No I’m far to important to not have the volume set at maximum. Shes taken more calls in the last hour than I receive in a year. All she ever seems to say is “ar” (add a Chinese accent for effect), either shes friends with alot of dentists or she has a slightly limited vocabulary. I have a slightly limited patience.
In front is the road, another 11hrs or so of it, snaking through the Siberian like landscape (its freezing in China, there’s snow everywhere, more on that in a later post) resulting in us crossing a depressingly small chunk of China the colossus. Its time for me to count sheep. By the time I’ve counted my way through the baa’ing population of Wales we might be somewhere near Wuhan, the next stop in the China adventure.
Pt 2 of “the bus nightmare” soon.
Possibly related, hopefully entertaining other posts:
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Florian
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sarah
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Michel
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SParky
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Gem
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mum
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Annett
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Pete
