Yesterday, at Lanzhou Railway Station, we met a young man called Ma Gui Xiang, who told us that he could procure for us two hard sleeper tickets to Chengdu for ￥250 each. CITS [the China International Travel Service] had quoted us ￥365 each, which we were, naturally, quite reluctant to pay. But to give 500 quai to a complete stranger? We were at first dismissive, then sceptical, but when he offered us his passport as security, we figured that he was straight up and gave him the cash.
Now we wait, as arranged, in the lobby of the hotel near the station. Ma Gui Xiang arrives on schedule, but is having trouble getting the tickets, so we repair to the restaurant at the Lanzhou Legend for a hot chocolate over the latest copy of the Morning Post. I also have a bowl of delicious minestrone soup, which helps to ease my throat.
Back at our room, we pack, then catch a bus back up to the station, where Ma Gui Xiang is, waiting, as promised, with our tickets. We walk across the open square outside the station, where people are hanging around vaguely whispering “train ticket, change money,” etc. Inside, we find the waiting hall for train 148, and soon join the throng of peasants shoving our way towards the platform.
On board, we find our berths, one upper, one lower. A man who has the opposite top bunk swaps with my lower, and we both retreat to our bunks to suffer through the 30-hour journey. Apart from the few notes on the previous page, I see nothing of the landscape through which we pass. I see only the faded yellow roof of the carriage, a blue haze of smoke, and a myriad of Oriental faces peering up.
NOTES FROM TRAIN NUMBER 148, THE LANZHOU–CHENGDU EXPRESS. SKY SHIMMERING STEEL GREY. INTERMITTENT TUNNELS PLUNGING US SUDDENLY INTO THE DARK. STEEP TERRACOTTA HILLS. THE TRAIN BRAKES SUDDENLY IN A TUNNEL…NERVOUS LAUGHTER. A FAT MAN SURREPTITIOUSLY EYES ME IN THE DARK…A UIGHUR: PEAKED CAP, WHITES OF HIS EYES SHOWING, NOISILY MUNCHING ON AN APPLE. RUBBISH, CIGARETTE BUTTS, PAPER, FOOD SCRAPS, NUT SHELLS COVER THE FLOOR.
A WORK GANG IN BLUE WITH BRIGHT ORANGE HATS.
THE RIVER, SILT-LADEN, THE COLOUR OF CAFÉ AU LAIT. MOORED BOATS WITH ARCHED SHELTERS ASTERN. SMALLER RIVERS JOINING, CLEAR BLUE. CORN STOOKS AND BURNING STUBBLE. THE STOOKS RESEMBLE FILANI HATS.
SOLITARY PEOPLE, DWARFED AND HUMBLED BY THE LANDSCAPE, DIG AND HEW AND GATHER.
STRATA ARCHING UP AND OVER LIKE COILS OF A DRAGON MARKED ON A MAP FROM THE RENAISSANCE.
CurseOfTheTraveller 