Travel Dave

It was my first time in China, my second night in Beijing and about 3AM when I realised that I was in the hands of the Gods.

In late 2011 myself and 4 of my friends arrived in the International Terminal of the Beijing airport. We were staying at a very quaint hostel in the middle of the city; as if you could call anywhere the middle.

The following night we had decided to venture out into the smoggy air of Beijing and find a restaurant where we could sample the local cuisine that is definitely a big adventure for most. And, without fail, that's exactly what we got. What followed was something straight out of one of the Hangover movies. Using all our senses to try get through the night, with our old friend alcohol trying to inhibit all of them at once. We picking our food by sight, asked for it by touch, decided who got which plate by smell and sampled the drinks by taste. We ended up tasting a lot. And this was only the beginning.

From there we went to a club, and at 2 I realised I was the only one I knew in the club. Not a good thing in a country where I know no Chinese and have no clue where I was staying. Though this would not deter my well-tasted self. I strode out in the Beijing glow and found the temperature to be at a less than friendly centigrade. Luckily for me I was in clothes that made me look like I was on a beach.

After roaming the streets like a stray dog for an hour or two with no money and no luck to speak of I decided to look for shelter. I found it in the bathroom of a half-demolished building site. After resting my eyes for a bit, I was rudely awoken in my half-star accommodation by a man screaming and shouting at me from behind the closed toilet door. Unfortunately I'd forgotten to hang my "Do Not Disturb" sign on my door. Luckily, as I have already mentioned, my Chinese is rather disastrous, otherwise I may very well have been offended by whatever he was shouting whilst attempting to bash down my door. Perhaps he just really needed the toilet though.

In any case he eventually left, as did the dust that was making my eyes water. So I checked out of my plush poo box and made my way down a road, that must have been a high-way. On the side of the high-way in rush hour Beijing traffic as the sun tries to pierce through the smog in my third day in China was quite an experience. Not one I would necessarily recommend.

Eventually I got home. Though that would not happen for another 5 hours of walking, taxis and sign language.