Getting to Guangzhou

When we left the hotel in Hong Kong yesterday, we didn’t realize what an interesting taxi ride we were in for! The trunks of the taxis are not very big, so the driver arranged 4 pieces of our luggage in there, by leaning them half-in/half-out. Of course, this means the lid would not shut, so it just remained open, hanging over the luggage. Our 5th piece of luggage, plus Brock’s carry-on, was placed in the front seat, next to the driver. Preston did not have a seat belt. Oh, and the driver did not speak English.

Brock & I spent a good part of the 30 minute drive worried about our luggage falling out. We were also wowing at all of the missed photo opportunities. It is amazing just how many extremely tall skyscrapers there are in the Hong Kong area – both industrial and residential. There were huge differences in the conditions of the buildings as well. We alternately felt as if we were driving down Lake Shore Drive and/or Cabrini-Green. Nearly everyone had clothes hanging on clotheslines across their small patios.

Our driver's ID


Our driver begins to unload our luggage


When we arrived at the station, our driver tried impressively hard to tell us what to do when we got inside. He pointed several times and spoke quickly (in Chinese, of course). After he left, Brock wanted to be sure I knew that he’d listened to directions and did an impressive mimicry of the driver’s sounds and gestures.

When we went inside, we kept dragging our luggage to several areas of a massively huge train station, attempting to find out where we should go. It was around 11 a.m. and our train wasn’t until 1:10 p.m., but we wanted to understand what to do before we settled down for our wait. We were discouraged that we weren’t able to find English speakers. One guy drew us a map with two arrows: one that went straight and one that took a bend to the left. No other markings. Another guy repeatedly told Brock “chauffeur tee”. Preston & I finally sat over near a window, surrounded by our luggage, while Brock continued to look for help. Finally, a woman pointed to the guy who told Brock “chauffeur tee” and explained that was where we should go to board the train, but that we couldn’t go there until 12:30 (“chauffeur tee”).

Preston says to tell everyone that “like Mom said, there is a lot of waiting here.” During some of the wait, I took the opportunity to walk around and get pictures of a handful of the businesses at the station.

Starbuck's


Christmas Cake


Mickey & Minnie


Circle K


Candy Store


McDonald's Stuff




7-Eleven





When we did load the train, we discovered we had to go through immigration again, just like at the airport. From there, we went down escalators to the platform. I can’t even begin to adequately describe the massive quantities of people boarding, nor the way they push and shove their way in. There is no right of way, nor any personal space. The way pedestrian traffic works was a hint about what we were about to see in Guangzhou with vehicle traffic.

Advertising on the back of the train seats




The train ride was about 2 hours long. Preston zonked rather quickly. I enjoyed the scenery for awhile, but I was very cold and eventually took a catnap myself. When we neared our stop, I noticed people quickly congregating near the stairwells that led to the exit. All passenger luggage was stored in bunk shelves in that tiny area. We had awoke Preston just a few minutes before the stop and heavily encouraged him that we needed to hurry, so we could grab our stuff, get off the train, and not be in the way of others. He had protested that he didn’t feel well, a protest that carried little weight with Mom & Dad, as it had been 3 days since he’d last been sick to his stomach.

Guess what came next? Oh, yeah, while we stood there waiting for the train to come to a stop, he vomited – not once, not twice, but FOUR times…each time with a bigger amount of quantity. It went all over the stairs and floor right where people would need to stand to grab their luggage and get to the exit to disembark. I helplessly looked at him, trapped by the sheer number of people surrounding me, having nothing to wipe it up with, being glared at by numerous passengers with whom I could not communicate, and stupidly telling him, “you need to wait until we get outside to do that”. Another passenger took pity on Brock, who was behind Preston, and handed him some newspaper. Brock tried faithfully to clean up the mess as I prayed for it all to end soon. Next, an employee of the train showed up, wearing gloves and a mask, squeezed by as best she could and cleaned with what looked like toilet paper. Preston never cried.

I’m proud of him for being able to hold it together, because once the train did stop, it was CHAOS. People literally climbing all over each other to get out of there. As we got smashed in the crowd, trying desperately to stay together, we took a left and realized we had to go up 5 flights of stairs – Preston with a backpack & small suitcase, me with two large suitcases & a backpack, Brock with two extra large suitcases & a carry-on. There was no stopping at any of the levels for a breather, either, or we would have gotten trampled. By the last flight, I was crying out to Brock that I was not going to make it…not that he could do anything about it. For the last 2/3 of the last flight of stairs, a kind woman grabbed one of my suitcases and carried it the last of the way for me. When we reached the top, we squeezed ourselves up against a wall and tried to catch our breath. My heart was pounding and I was gasping for air. Brock was in similar shape.

We followed the crowd again and found out we had to go through immigration AGAIN. We read a sign that said if you were carrying computer or photo equipment, you should declare it in customs. So, we got in that line too. We found a scanning machine in which we had to place all of our bags (like at the airport). The employees stood at a desk on the other side of the room and never approached us. Not that we could have told them what we were trying to claim anyway. We left that room and found we had to place our luggage in another scanning machine just to be able to exit. Following exit signs, we found some long escalators and when we got to the bottom, we were met by our guide, Connie. Ah, so nice to have a friend, even it was a new friend.

While she took the opportunity to run to the ladies room, we stood and relaxed for a few minutes, digging out our jackets to deal with the cool weather. A man coming down the escalator had a big shopping bag full of items. It ripped open right as he got to the bottom and his stuff scattered everywhere. Brock hurried to help him, while I gathered our luggage closer to me. The guy didn’t speak English, but as he left, he gave us an appreciatory nod. We did our best to say “xie xie” (thank you in Mandarin), but I’m sure we mispronounced it.

Connie returned and took us on a long walk out to the street to a mini-van (our ride to the hotel). The ride was longer than we expected, perhaps 45 minutes, and Preston cuddled with Dad for a bit, obviously tired. The traffic was very intimidating. There is a lot of honking over here. And for anyone that thinks I’m a tailgater – you ain’t seen nothin’! OH, my, gosh. The merging and braking and cutting off and honking and bicycles and pedestrians and you name it. It was nuts!

I have plenty to tell you about the hotel as well, especially now that we’ve spent a night here, but this has gotten pretty long already. I’ll type that up after I have the opportunity to snap a few photos as well.

Love, Hugs & Kisses to all of our family back home,
Brock, Amy & Preston

P.S. The hotel provides a desktop computer with internet access, but it is S-L-O-W. There is no wireless access.