云梦山, Chinese for “This is why doing things for yourself in China is a pain in the ass.”

Friday, October 8th, 2010 in: News

Megan’s dad visited shortly before I left for Xingtai, taking her on an amazing multi-day hike through the Gobi Desert with the Beijing Hikers (jealous? me? very). When he returned to the states he gave her a Beijing guidebook, leaving her a small library of options to choose from. Since our plans for Qingdao fell through, I found myself scrambling for a new worthwhile endeavor to fill a day or two, and dove into the guidebooks for something good. Having already been in Beijing for almost 3 months, there were few famous attractions left that neither of us had yet experienced. After some deliberation, I boiled it down to a few options, and we settled on Yungmengshan, a hike about an hour or two outside of Beijing that looked relatively straightforward. A single bus would take us to a Beijing suburb called Huairou, where we would transfer onto a shuttle bus to the base of the mountain. Can’t get much simpler than that, right?

What I didn’t realize was that a quarter of the population of Beijing had daytrip plans that Saturday as well, and that the 916 (coincidentally, my area code back home, quick shout out to my friends in Sacramento!) is the only friggin bus that leaves Beijing. To put it subtly, there was something of a line waiting for the bus. Since we were late to the terminal at Dongzhimen, I was dismayed at the sight of 100+ crowded around our stop. In fact, I was getting uneasy about being “in charge” of this little expedition; I was well aware of how China likes to surprise travelers with little bits of trivia like “there are two places with the same name in opposite directions, guess which one you went to.” Furthermore, of the two, I’d been studying Chinese longer, which left me to navigate the mindfield of miscommunication. By choosing the destination and being left to talk to everyone, I had the pleasure of being responsible for whatever happens on the journey. In China, this is usually a bad omen.

I asked Megan if we should just do something local instead. “We came all the way here, you want to give up?” Hm, well when you make me sound like a pussy, I guess we’ll wait. I’d resolved myself to try to make it go as smoothly as possible, but China is nothing if not unpredictable. We queued like decent folk, since the line actually had a shape other than amorphous blob trying to shove its way through the gates. It was quite a while before any bus actually showed up, and I thought that at this rate we’d be lucky to get there before sundown, but fortunately, they started arriving with more frequency. I should have realized that as soon as the line started moving the orderly shape would give way to the impatience of the crowd. The bus was more comfortable than a regular city bus, because it led out of town. Beijing trivia: buses with two-digit numbers are for local buses, three digits take you out of town. They also vary, as some buses with the same number will take you to different places. Getting there is half the fun, right?

After an hour or so on the bus Megan had fallen asleep and I was reading when the bus stopped. All of a sudden, I heard a booming voice coming towards me as a large man in a pink shirt lumbered up to me yelling (in Chinese) “Huairou! We’re here, come on!” He grabs my arm and pulls me up out of the chair, repeating that we’d arrived. It had been about the right amount of time, according to the guide book, and a while back I saw a sign with Yunmengshan written on it. I woke Megan and as we stepped off the bus, I looked around and noted the lack of mountains. Um, we’re going to Yunmengshan. “Oh, uhhh, yeah we can take you there!” He waves at an unmarked van. I turn to the bus as the doors close and it takes off, leaving us with the black cab driver who had actually boarded the bus to pull us off, apparently with the bus driver’s consent. We were the only foreigners there, how did this guy know to come to the back of this bus and grab us? Either way, I shouldn’t have gotten off the bus without knowing exactly what was going on, but this really came from left field.

“You asshole, 我们不要去怀柔！我们去云梦山.在怀柔我们应该换公共汽车，我们不要坐黑车!为什么你被我们下车！？I streamed as much angry sounding Chinese at him as I could muster. He got the message and waved down the next bus which was behind the first and said a few words to the bus driver, who shrugged and let us back on. Apparently this isn’t uncommon. I thanked the driver and talked to him some more, trying to get exact directions to get where I needed to be.

Did I mention my Chinese sucks? I got about half of what he was saying, and he stops a little while later. I turn to Megan and relay the details. “He says we walk up to this next intersection, take a left and walk for five minutes, and there will be another bus that takes us pretty close to the base of the mountain. “Are you sure we should get off? Shouldn’t we just go to the end of the route?” It’s a valid question; the guidebook was sparce on details, and just said to get off at “Huairou.” I gestured to the route map on the wall. They ALL say Huairou. I told the driver specifically where we wanted to go, and he gave me pretty specific directions, I think it’s our best bet. Another executive decision, hope for the best, brace for the worst.

We found the bus stop, just as advertised. A small crowd was waiting for the next bus, and I asked several people if we could get to Yunmengshan from there. No one else was stopping there, but they all seemed to think it was the right direction. The bus pulls up and I ask the money handler if it goes to the mountain. She first said no, and I asked if the next bus did. She said that none of the buses stop at Yunmengshan. Then how do we get there?? She ushers us onto the bus, not quite sure what is happening but we’d already held up the crowd behind us for long enough, apparently. Megan was perturbed by being pulled on and off a bus twice in the space of half an hour, and asked if we could stop just going with the crowd without knowing where it’s headed. I know that tone, and it cuts me deep as a reminder that I was captain of this shipwreck. Time to straighten things out.

When the bus got moving again, I went up and asked the lady if she could be more specific than miming at me. She explained that the bus didn’t go to Yunmengshan, but stopped just down the road from the entrance. That’s pretty much what I was asking, wasn’t it? “You can get off there and hire a car to take you to the entrance, shouldn’t be more than 20 kuai.” OK, I said, please let me know when we get there. To my amazement, the remaining bus ride took an hour or more, making it about 3 hours in total transit time. What a piece of shit guidebook!

True to her word, she waved at me when we arrived at the random stop on the highway, apparently just down the street from the entrance to the park. A car pulls up and offers a ride for 20 kuai. How suspiciously convenient. How far is it, I asked. About 20 minutes up the road, he says. I tried to bargain but he wouldn’t budge. I wanted to save the hike for the actual mountain, so with a roll of the eyes, I get Megan into the car. “This is it,” the driver says five minutes later. “That’s bullshit, you said 20 minutes!” Another point for China. I remind the guy what a filthy ugly liar he is. Oh well, it’s three dollars. Grand scheme of things, I remind myself… at least we made it to the mountain!

The hike itself was actually quite pleasant once we got away from the developed area. The weather was clear and blue and people were smiling on the paths. I tried to get over my annoyance at the ordeal of getting there, but found it difficult to carry a discussion, so we mostly walked in silence. I enjoyed the quiet, but something had recently taken the wind from my sails, I wasn’t sure if it was just China in general, or if the dynamic between us had changed. I realized that I had put so much weight on how I perceived her to be enjoying herself, I was totally stressed out, having felt like I had already failed by the time we got there. I suddenly gained new respect for Ben (my grandpa’s Chinese friend, in case you haven’t been reading long), who although had a far superior command of Chinese language, often found himself in a similar situation where all he wanted was to please his guests, but due to our flippant “oh, anything you choose will be fine” attitude, was forced to make several decisions about where to go and what to do that weren’t always well received. I suddenly found myself thankful that Qingdao’s plans fell through; although the bottomless supply of beer might’ve helped smooth things over, at least we had our own seats on the bus to Yunmengshan. It’s hard to make a comeback from a 9 hour standing train ticket.

The wayfinding was par for the course for Chinese hikes, which is to say, quite terrible. We reached a peak after about two hours and decided to head back. When we got back to the entrance I had realized that had we taken a wrong turn at a seemingly minor intersection, we would have ended up on another 3 hour round trip walk up the next peak over. I thanked my lucky stars that I didn’t manage to fuck that one up, and I asked the ticket counter the best way to get back to Beijing. They basically pointed us back to the highway, instructing us to take the same bus back to Huairou to catch the 916 again. Holy crap, that WAS the best way?? Now the guidebook is confirmed to be shit. We set on back down the hill to the bus stop and wave off the human flies trying to sell us overpriced rooms and rides. At the freeway another group of people were holding signs for rooms. I ask them where the bus stop is, and they try to sell me a room, then try to sell me a ride back to Huairou. Goddamnit people just tell me where the bus stop is! They tried to tell us the bus doesn’t go where we know it goes. Sick of their bullshit, I spotted a lone guy waiting at the bus stop across the street and went to wait there. The swindlers kept shouting at our backs, quoting prices for rooms we didn’t want.

The wait wasn’t too bad, but it was longer than I would have hoped. After a while a car pulled over and asked our neighbor for directions to Yunmengshan, I surprised myself by being able to give them directions right to the entrance. Nothing like necessity to push your language skills to the next level. Another van stopped and a guy hopped out, first chatting randomly but then trying to hustle us into his van for “cheap,” promising to take us to the 916 bus stop. Not 45 seconds later, our bus pulls up. “Come on, friend!” he pleads one last time as Megan pulls me on board. This time I’m listening intently to what is going on, trying not to miss an announcement that I can’t understand. I strain for words that I actually know, and after a few more hikers board down the road, I hear “916” and “Beijing.” I tap the guy across the aisle who just sat down, and miracle of miracles, he’s going back to Beijing on the 916! We follow his group to the right bus stop, with about 15 minutes to spare before the LAST bus back to Beijing. How nice of the guidebook to mention that.

Upon boarding the bus, they are short a few seats, and Megan and I are left standing with a few other people. A few stops later I see one of the passengers make a move to get off, and I practically push Megan into the seat. It’s the last one that was vacated before we arrived in Beijing, and I found myself sitting in the aisle with about 20 other people. I would have cursed my luck, but I had trained for this shit in Xi’an. This was nothing. I dozed most of the way back, glad that I at least got Megan a seat while I could. The trip had gone about 3 hours too long, thanks to our trouble getting there and back, and Megan had to cancel her plans to meet with a friend who lived in Beijing (her last chance to see them before she’d go back home the following week). It was small penance to get her a chair on the bus.

We finally got back to Erlizhuang around 8:30 or 9:00, and immediately after getting off the bus we ran into the little casting director who had us in tuxedos and gowns a few weeks earlier. She asked if I was free to work on Monday. Too tired and hungry to argue, and in need of cash since my replacement ATM card was headed to Japan, I said I’d help her out one last time.

The crazy never ends.

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