Soft Sleeper in China for a Hardened Traveller

Lesson: Not all first class trains are created equal.

I was in a mood. So was my husband, Dan. Traveling independently in China for three months is hard work and the effort was wearing us down. With minimal language training, lots of time, equal portions of curiosity and naiveté, what began as an adventure to stretch our travel legs, was sapping our spirit. Although our goodwill was sagging, curiously, our resolve was strengthening to complete what we began. Six weeks into the coal-infused air of central China, it had become an endurance test, a mental game of Survivor. We said we’d do this. We shall do it! But every now and then, the last words of our gentle, soft-spoken Mandarin tutor back in Canada came to mind: “Don’t go alone. You crazy people”.

We had been stuck for three more days than planned in the small city of Pingyao, an UNESCO world heritage site, while waiting for a train out. Originally a banking center during the Ming dynasty, the atmospheric walled city is just enough out of the way along the Beijing – Xian rail corridor to have protected it from both the destruction of the cultural revolution, and, more recently, real estate developers. Few trains stop here.

Once our tickets finally came through, we looked forward to one night in what’s known as a soft sleeper cabin, first class. At least I looked forward to it, since Dan prefers air travel. It had been a struggle to talk him into taking this side trip. And now, I hadn’t counted on the difficulty of getting tickets out since most trains barrel on through to Xi’an from Beijing without stopping. Instead, I was hoping for the best. I had read Paul Theroux’s classic, though now dated, travel book, Riding the Red Rooster, about travelling by rail in China. Rather than being turned off train travel, or for that matter China, I was fascinated and challenged. Dan remained skeptical.

Once in Pingyao, the news about the sleeper was not bad, but not really good either.

 Fellow travelers explained that the mail run train would not be as comfortable as other first class trains running popular routes. We would be in a small room with two bunk beds and a central table. The car is smoke free except at the platforms between cars. There would be a western toilet at one end and a squat at the other end. Booking a room in the middle of the car would protect us from the smell at either end. I was grateful for the advice. It did nothing for Dan except sustain his low expectations.

We were standing on the platform in the place indicated by the attendant where our numbered car would stop. A French tour group assembled a little further down. Chatting amongst themselves, they encircled their leader, linked arms and burst into song. One chorus of "Auld Lang Syne" later, the chain broke, tissues were pulled out and backs slapped amid much hugging. One woman sobbed. Dan leaned into my ear, “Either she’s sad to be going home, or she’s taken an overnight train in China before.”

When the train arrived, we had three minutes to board. My eyes followed the numbers – thank God for Arabic numerals – and we squeezed our way along the crowded narrow corridor. I recognized our unit at the same time a cloud of cigarette smoke escaped from inside our cabin. I felt a tantrum coming on. No! This would not be our smoke-free cabin for which we paid a premium. Sure enough, two middle-aged men sat by the window, puffing at cigarettes.

The last time I was this angry, I was with my sister-in-law on the first hole of a golf course back home and two men behind us teed off while our balls were still in play on the fairway. I pulled out my cell phone, called management and demanded the offenders be pulled off the course. It was downright dangerous behavior on a par three course and I wasn’t going to put up with it today on my50th birthday, nor on any day. My younger sister-in-law, for her part, made a mental note to talk to her doctor about estrogen.

Today, I have no cell phone, but luckily I see a policeman down the hall and shout, “Wo bu xihuan yan!” pointing to the two men.

With few words in Mandarin, little grammar and poor pronunciation, my screaming “I don’t like cigarettes” to a policeman was met with a blank stare, a frustratingly common response to our attempts to communicate. Mandarin is a tonal language. Most utterances risk multiple meanings depending on pronunciation. For example, to one ear I was deriding tobacco, to another ear, I detested salt. Someone else might hear that I didn't like eyeglasses. However the anger was well communicated.

Our cabin partners put out their cigarettes and never lit up again, more likely out of respect for foreigners than fear of a befuddled policeman. Many men smoke in China so their actions were not unusual. Anti-smoking bylaws are new outside of Beijing and Shanghai and puzzling to many in the provinces. Before leaving Canada, Janet, my Chinese-Canadian friend, had prepared me for local customs as best she could.

“Expect people to be on their best behavior in a train when they see you.” But she also cautioned me to keep cool myself. “Displays of anger are frowned upon. Do not remove a fly from a person’s head with a hatchet.”

And it was true enough. I needed to relax. The two gentlemen cleared the table, fanned the air out the window, smiled and quietly read a magazine. I felt ashamed about over-reacting. Every now and then they would leave the car for a cigarette elsewhere, gently closing the door, nodding an apology which underscored my feeling that it was me who had lost face.

I settled into a corner of the top bunk, head buried in a book. It was night and that was just as well. The previous week traveling by day into Pingyao from the resource-rich north, I was saddened by the view, an heavy industry-scarred landscape, giant pyramids of coal, and tongues of fire from metal towers licking a grey horizon.

Throughout the night, sleep was difficult. As a mail run, the train stopped and started with an irregular wrenching that shot me forward, backward, and side to side on my bunk. Throughout the night, each of us was given a good trouncing. I felt like I was being disciplined for losing my temper. And as if I had not lost enough face already, one really good shunt sent my head hard into the wall.

At 7 a.m. the next morning, bleary-eyed and steeling ourselves for the crush of taxi drivers ahead, Dan and I wheeled our cases out of the station in Xi'an. The “I told you so” from Dan would not come for a few hours. We have an agreement, struck at the beginning of our trip to China. Dan won't curse me before noon. (by Carolann Moisse at http://www.maturetraveler.blogspot.com/)

My Travel Recommendations for Pingyao

Accommodation: We very much enjoyed the Yide Hotel within the walled city. It is an atmospheric place, remodelled from an original villa to include updated facilities, but don't expect a big-city style hotel experience. There's no busloads of tour groups in this place. You will even see it listed on hostel sites. The bedrooms circle a courtyard and each bedroom offers a kung bed. The kung bed is like a large shelf in an alcove entirely covered by a mattress. People would use the bed like living room seating, sitting cross legged, taking tea off large wooden trays. It’s a luxurious sleeping experience, roomier than a king size bed.

Location: Yide Hotel is on a tiny side street off the main within the walled city. The address is 16 Shaxiang Jie (86-354-5685988). Owner Cheng Gaimei speaks English very well and her restaurant staff also speak some English. The atmosphere is quiet being tucked out of the way. Bring a flashlight for walking yourself in and out of the hotel to the main street at night as the alley ways are pitch black until a vehicle passes. Our costs, converted to Canadian dollars, were approximately $80 per night including breakfast. Notice that most people on Trip Advisor though this hotel excellent.
http://www.tripadvisor.com/Hotel_Review-g325575-d603480-Reviews-Pingyao_Yide_Hotel-Pingyao_County_Shanxi.html

Train: It is hard to get in and out of Pingyao by train. While there is frequent service connecting Xi’an to Taiyuan, a large city to the north of Pingyao, only one of these trains stop at Pingyao on its way to Xi’an. In order to get a soft bed to Xi'an, your hotel will actually purchase a Taiyuan - Xi'an ticket, getting around the problem of too few Pingyao - Xi'an soft beds being available on the train that does stop there.

There's an easy way to navigate train travel in China by using the website at
http://www.travelchinaguide.com/. At the top right corner you can select trains or flights and then key in departure and destination city. We used this tool throughout China to explore possible routes and times. It always bears confirming the information you draw from it.