It was an early start, and the sky was still a dark slate gray. The plan was a simple one, take a taxi to the train station. For whatever reason, the taxi driver decided to negotiate. We should wait twenty minutes first, and he would drop me off halfway and let me take the subway instead. How about no? After convincing the driver to drop his suggestion, we were on our way to Hongqiao, literally "Rainbow Bridge", and a homonym for "Red Bridge".
We arrived in good time to buy a quick breakfast McDonalds and wait for the train. I have a habit of eating McDonalds on long train journeys, something which goes back a number of years to the "Johor Bahru Incident", also known as the "Eight Hours Hungry Confusion". It all goes back to a long distance train journey I once made from Singapore to north Malaysia. In a rush, but already hungry, I only had time to grab a few small snacks - a bun and some crisps (chips) - to keep me going on the train. It turned out that the bun was contaminated with some bizarre plasticised cream under the guise of "flavouring", and worse yet, the crisps I had picked up were durian flavoured. Within minutes of leaving Singapore we had crossed the causeway to Malaysia and were pulling into the Malaysian city on the border Johor Bahru, or "JB". The cream bun had just made me hungrier, the durian chips were obviously a hopeless purchase, and with me facing the prospect of eight hours travel ahead, onto the train poured countless Malaysian passengers, Big Macs in hand. I hadn't known before, but there is apparently a McDonalds either in or very close to the railway station in JB, and it seemed as if each and every one of our fellow travellers was feasting as they seated themselves around me. My starved mind may have started playing tricks on me, but I was sure they were mocking me with every bite, with every painful flourish, as chip was extracted from carrier bag and delivered to mouth with salty, grease stained hands. As every chubby Malaysian cheek slurped on sugary syrup flavourd water, it was brutal punishment. Ever since, buying a McDonalds for a long distance train journey has been a necessity for me.
So, Big Mac in hand, I boarded the train and proceeded to fall asleep. I awoke occasionally to gaze out at the views from the window. Mostly flat fields growing maize, with some rocky outcrops, and a few smatterings of tall thin trees. To me they looked something like poplars, but a bit more short and stocky than the taller and thinner varieties I know from back home in Yorkshire. The sky had turned from the slate grey of dawn to a battleship grey, even flirting with the idea of having a blueish hue at one point. This was my seventh day since landing in Hangzhou and I had not seen anything even approaching a blue sky since getting off the plane. Unfortunately polution rather than bad weather was the inevitable reason. The air in Hangzhou that day was a horrible yellowish grey, thick and all too obviously present at the back of your throat. I sometimes worry that Chinese children will grow up not knowning that the sky is supposed to be blue.
After a few more fitful attempts at sleeping, I cleared my mind to realise that the train had slowed for the run into Qingdao. Qingdao lies on the east coast, a former foreign concession somewhat closer to Beijing than Shanghai. And while high speed rail links those two power centres of modern China, Qingdao lies somewhat off the mainline route and is only finally reached at slower speeds. Whether by design or by accident, the last few miles were an absolute dawdle through the residential suburbs of Qingdao before pulling into the over 100 year old central station. On exiting the station I was greeted by a pleasant surprise - blue skies! For the first time since leaving Singapore.
The blue skies may just be a contributing factor to Qingdao's reputation as one of China's more livable cities. The world famous TsingTao beer factory probably helps too. So do the pleasant sea breezes, beaches, leafy winding avenues and colonial architecture. The tour of the beer factory and a wander down "Beer Street" are must see highlights of any trip to Qingdao. But is it not strange that Qingdao the city, and TsingTao the beer appear to have almost the same name, but not quite? This comes from the age old problem of rendering Chinese characters in phonetic alphabetic script. The modern, government approved "pinyin" system renders the Chinese name of the city today as Qingdao, but this is a relatively recent invention, definitely post dating the German colonial era beer factory's original inception. In those days, romanisation of Chinese was a hit and miss afair, and instead of Qingdao, we somehow ended up drinking TsingTao instead.
Other highlights in Qingdao included a walk by the sea front, a coffee relaxing along the leafy lanes surrounding the university, as well as the old church and other, sometimes completely ivy-clad colonial buildings. I would stay in Qingdao for less than twenty four hours, but it ws enough to get a sense of its peaceful charm. One place lacking in peace however was, like most Chinese cities, the train station. I needed to buy my ticket on to Beijing, so I decided - wisely - to try my luck not at the train station but a satellite office closer to my hotel. Pro-tip for train travellers in China. If the train station is a horrible crowded mess, and you trust your ability to speak Chinese, ask around and buy your ticket at a "dai shou chu" instead. You'll queue probably for one minute rather than hours at the station.
