The Fast Train To Lardiness
Yesterday I had to travel from Shanghai to Nanjing, a journey that would probably take around four hours by car, depending on traffic. There are many things in life that piss me off, far too many to attempt to enumerate here, but among them is sitting in the back of a car for anything more than about an hour. I therefore decided that we would take the train rather than drive, and the Chinese colleague who was to accompany me did not protest. In fact my last experience of Chinese trains, albeit several years ago, was quite pleasant. The seats were clean and comfortable and there was a refreshment trolley which dispensed tea, not something you’re likely to find on British trains, I’m sure. The toilet was something of a disappointment – it was a six inch hole in the metal floor through which you could see the ground, and a mop hanging from the wall. Quite OK for taking a piss but I wouldn’t have fancied attempting anything more adventurous – I could see wallet and keys dropping unexpectedly through the hole, or bad aim resulting in a lot of unpleasant mop-work.
Anyway, we rolled up to Shanghai station in the morning and it immediately became apparent that my colleague had not taken a train in many years, and had no clue what to do. His driver pointed us towards the right entrance and we proceeded through security screening (bag x-ray) into a huge, dismal waiting room, partially filled with drab and scattered humanity. Fortunately we only had to wait ten minutes until our train was called and we joined the forward press towards the gate.
Our carriage did not disappoint – it had comfortable reclining seats. This was the “soft seat” section; last time I rode the train here the “hard seat” section actually had solid wooden seats with upright backs, making me grateful for my better ticket, but now even those seats look relatively acceptable. (An American acquaintance recounted that the experience of a four hour journey in the old “hard seat” section was one of the worst experiences of his life.)
The train conveyed us to Nanjing at speeds up to 240km/hr (according to its helpful display) and we were met there by another company’s driver. Meetings were held and we were returned to the station about 2:30pm, in time for the 2:51 train back to Shanghai. Unfortunately this was where my colleague’s inexperience with trains let us down. Because we weren’t sure how long our meetings would last, he’d decided to buy the return tickets at the station, but the 2:51 was now sold out. The next train was at around 4:30 so we were now faced with two hours to kill and no driver to get us anywhere.
Nanjing station is a new, excitingly angled glass structure but it has fuck-all inside by way of amenities so we surveyed the area outside. There was a huge concrete plaza leading down to the edge of a lake and people were camped out in all directions with their bags, obviously waiting for trains. I was the only Western person to be seen, the only person in a business shirt and the only one with a pointy nose, and I definitely had the feeling of sticking out. The concierge at a local hotel informed us that there was no good restaurant in the area and so we were forced to go to the McDonalds by the station. In we walked, reluctantly, and I immediately realized that I was more than twice the age of anyone inside. It was full of teenage Chinese kids. We ordered our Big Mac (at least I think that’s what it was – it’s not like I could read the menu board) and killed as much time as we could bear eating it. I noticed that unlike the brown skinned, slim people outside, many of the kids were pasty and plump, with doughy flesh, a look often accentuated in the girls by short skirts and socks or boots which showed their chunky legs. Obesity is coming to China, one McDonalds at a time.
Eventually the train came and we returned to Shanghai station. It may not have a very nice waiting room but at least there are good restaurants outside. Plus, I couldn’t help noticing, another fucking McDonalds. I didn’t get to check whether there’s been progress in Chinese train toilets since my last journey but I sincerely hope so. Each Chinese New Year the railways here transport hundreds of millions of people around the country. If even half of them are squeezing their train station Big Mac and Large Fries through a six inch hole in the floor the results must be too horrific to contemplate. Maybe four hours in the back of a Buick doesn’t seem such a bad option after all.
Copyright © 2008 Edward Bison
Anyway, we rolled up to Shanghai station in the morning and it immediately became apparent that my colleague had not taken a train in many years, and had no clue what to do. His driver pointed us towards the right entrance and we proceeded through security screening (bag x-ray) into a huge, dismal waiting room, partially filled with drab and scattered humanity. Fortunately we only had to wait ten minutes until our train was called and we joined the forward press towards the gate.
Our carriage did not disappoint – it had comfortable reclining seats. This was the “soft seat” section; last time I rode the train here the “hard seat” section actually had solid wooden seats with upright backs, making me grateful for my better ticket, but now even those seats look relatively acceptable. (An American acquaintance recounted that the experience of a four hour journey in the old “hard seat” section was one of the worst experiences of his life.)
The train conveyed us to Nanjing at speeds up to 240km/hr (according to its helpful display) and we were met there by another company’s driver. Meetings were held and we were returned to the station about 2:30pm, in time for the 2:51 train back to Shanghai. Unfortunately this was where my colleague’s inexperience with trains let us down. Because we weren’t sure how long our meetings would last, he’d decided to buy the return tickets at the station, but the 2:51 was now sold out. The next train was at around 4:30 so we were now faced with two hours to kill and no driver to get us anywhere.
Nanjing station is a new, excitingly angled glass structure but it has fuck-all inside by way of amenities so we surveyed the area outside. There was a huge concrete plaza leading down to the edge of a lake and people were camped out in all directions with their bags, obviously waiting for trains. I was the only Western person to be seen, the only person in a business shirt and the only one with a pointy nose, and I definitely had the feeling of sticking out. The concierge at a local hotel informed us that there was no good restaurant in the area and so we were forced to go to the McDonalds by the station. In we walked, reluctantly, and I immediately realized that I was more than twice the age of anyone inside. It was full of teenage Chinese kids. We ordered our Big Mac (at least I think that’s what it was – it’s not like I could read the menu board) and killed as much time as we could bear eating it. I noticed that unlike the brown skinned, slim people outside, many of the kids were pasty and plump, with doughy flesh, a look often accentuated in the girls by short skirts and socks or boots which showed their chunky legs. Obesity is coming to China, one McDonalds at a time.
Eventually the train came and we returned to Shanghai station. It may not have a very nice waiting room but at least there are good restaurants outside. Plus, I couldn’t help noticing, another fucking McDonalds. I didn’t get to check whether there’s been progress in Chinese train toilets since my last journey but I sincerely hope so. Each Chinese New Year the railways here transport hundreds of millions of people around the country. If even half of them are squeezing their train station Big Mac and Large Fries through a six inch hole in the floor the results must be too horrific to contemplate. Maybe four hours in the back of a Buick doesn’t seem such a bad option after all.
Copyright © 2008 Edward Bison
posted by Mr Bison at
1:22 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home