Day 2: “A good traveller has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving.” Laozi

As we attempt to check in for the two hour flight to [1] Lanzhou, Jenny’s fractious conversation with the desk attendant signals a problem. By now, I’ve learned not to ask her to translate whilst she’s arguing with somebody in Chinese, as this inevitably leads to a simultaneous row with me. I wait until she strides away in exasperation before asking her what’s up. Apparently, they closed the desk two minutes before we arrived there. Twenty feet beyond, I can see the gate, and the queue waiting to board our flight.

Our luggage is on the plane and can’t be offloaded. Suddenly, the thought of being without spare underpants fills me with dread (I’m still a novice at the stand-up Chinese toilet routine). In a one-party state, the trains (and planes) run on time. Not necessarily a bad thing, unless your smalls end up 750 miles away. It won’t be my only encounter with pedantic officialdom during the holiday.

We get refunds for the missed flight, and book a cheaper one leaving in a couple of hours. The rest of our party in Lanzhou collect our suitcases and arrange to meet us at the train station.

Bisected by the Yellow River, and chaffed by the sands of the Gobi Desert, Lanzhou is at China’s geographic centre. On arrival, unencumbered by luggage, we decide to walk from the airport bus stop to the train station. We take lunch in a noodle bar. For the equivalent of £2.00, we enjoy noodle soup, a salad of pickled vegetables, sliced roast beef, fried chicken and beer. The staff gather obtrusively to examine my chopstick technique. I do not disappoint, but there is incomprehension when I request a spoon.

Unsure as to the dining arrangements on the train, we decide to stock up with provisions for the 28 hour journey to Lhasa. The proprietor of the local version of Spar adjusts his string vest, drags on a cigarette, and gestures to the food section, before coughing into a spittoon. The shelves are replete with vacuum-packed delights such as chicken’s feet (good with a beer, apparently), dried donkey (described as ‘spicy ass meat’), yak jerky, chilli jellyfish, spicy bean curd, pickled quails eggs, and vacuum-packed hog’s face. We leave with bottled water, instant noodles and cookies.

The main road to the train station has a distinctly local feel. Hawkers line the route specializing in dismembered preserved animals; monkey paws, bear’s teeth, dried heads, pelts and tails. I’m told these sad items hold some esoteric medicinal or spiritual value, but it’s all rather depressing.

We stop at an impressive fruit stall to buy water melon, bananas, cherries, and melon-pear; a fruit I’ve never seen before.

Laden with provisions, we arrive at the station to meet our travelling companions for the 29 hour journey to Lhasa.

[6] Share This