To Urumqi

Friday, August 13th, 2010 in: News, Travel

When we arrived in Xingtai, one of the first things we did was go to the train ticket office to book our sleepers for Urumqi–it was almost a 40 hour train ride and no way were we going to do that without a sleeper compartment. When we got to the counter, the lady seemed dismissive when we asked for tickets, without even checking her computer. Surely Xinjiang wasn’t THAT popular a destination, we asked her to check but she refused. Something was up, but we didn’t quite understand the reason she gave us, so Dan called up Weiwei and asked him to talk to her.

Turns out, the flooding in the southern provinces effectively halted all the trains running on the lines we needed, which meant we were landlocked in Xingtai. Our only remaining option was to fly.

Fortunately, tickets weren’t overwhelmingly expensive, and they had the added advantage of saving us about two days of travel altogether. We would fly directly to Urumqi, then fly to Xi’an, and by then we shouldn’t have any trouble catching a train back home. Easy.

The airport was in the city of Shijiazhuang (石家庄), one train stop closer to Beijing from us, so we booked a hard seat into the city. Shijiazhuang is like Xingtai but with even worse air quality, still pulling itself up from its industrial roots. An otherwise forgettable city, like so many others in China. Our maps said the airport was a relatively short cab ride from the train station, but when our cabbie said it would take about an hour, Dan and I exchanged a look of concern. In the cab, we were looking up maps and trying to figure out where the discrepancy was. The confirmation sheet said Shijiazhuang Daguocun, I tried reading it to the cabbie but he just kept repeating that there was only one Shijiazhuang airport and we were heading to it.

Then I read it with the right tones, and the driver’s arms stiffened as he tensed up with sudden recognition. There WAS an airport in Daguocun, but it was really small, that can’t be it. We called the travel agency to double-check, and they repeated that there’s only one airport in Shijiazhuang. By then we were already 40 minutes outside of the city, so all we could do was hope it was the right place.

Thankfully, it was. Our flight was prompt and comfortable, and we were glad to have booked an earlier train to compensate for our unexpected cab ride.

3 hours later, we touched down in Urumqi. We stepped out of the airport and were amazed by how mild the weather was. It was actually cool and dry. Our fellow Chinese travelers came out clutching their elbows and shivering at the balmy 19 degrees celsius. We just laughed; it was the first time we’d been comfortable outside in China in months.

A cab driver approached us and hustled us to his car, which wasn’t a real cab. “cha bu duo!” he said, no big difference! Uhhh no thanks buddy, we walked back to the line of cabs and climbed into one. We left the airport and Dan realized he hadn’t started the meter running and asked him why. “We don’t need the meter, just 60 kuai,” the cabbie replied. Dan demanded he use the meter, asking what he was afraid of. “I don’t like your way of doing things!” Dan was incensed, upset with himself for not picking up on the scam sooner, and now we were stuck on a highway with a flat-rate cabbie; we might as well have taken the black cab.

After the exchange, we rode in an uncomfortable silence for most of the trip. At the end, the cabbie apologized, saying he felt bad for how we felt and even said if we didn’t want to pay we didn’t have to. No no, it’s alright, we just don’t like that you waited until we left the airport to even discuss the fare. Either use the meter or be up front about it. So it turns out the guy wasn’t all bad, but maybe we’d have to be on our toes a little bit here.

The hostel was dark and gloomy, but relatively comfortable. Some Chinese guy took Dan’s lower bunk, and when I came back from checking my email he was already asleep in mine. Whatever, I climbed into the top bunk and quickly rolled to black.

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