A very welcome beer. Not back in Dunhuang as I’d earlier feared. On the train. I’d jostled my way through several carriages in search of some American students who’d come to my aid back at the station. Wanted to thank them for all their help, without which I seriously doubted I’d ever have been able to board. Not with the bike at least. Eventually finding them, I’d been invited to join them for a drink.
Their arrival at the station earlier in the evening had been fortuitous, the timing impecable. They were all part of a study programme, refining their language skills and learning about Chinese culture. Joe, one of the group leaders, had stepped forward to offer help with re-assembling the bike. He’d also discreetly guided me away from the mele of station staff and the odd police officer who, I sensed, might soon thwart my plan to travel on the sleeper.
A few railway officials drifted over. The words were incomprehensible, but the tone seemed lighter, more encouraging. Then a young police man arrived. Not to impede, but to help. He’d escort us to the train, let us board early before the rush. I sought to convey my gratitude in just a few words and lots of warm handshakes.
I’d foolishly thought that’d be the end of the evening’s drama. Hadn’t allowed for the chief guard who’d been summoned by the carriage attendant. Suspected one of my fellow passengers had complained at the presence of the bike, despite what I thought was a pretty reasonable effort at stowing it so as to cause as little inconvenience as possible to others. And all rather ironic, given the generally chaotic nature of the sleeper.
Another impasse. I’d fourteen hours and the train was underway. Only place I was going was Lanzhou. The chief guard was insistent that the bike be moved to one of the vestibules. I was adamant my faithful steed should remain where she was, not least because I thought it the safest place for everyone. Protested the police were content with the arrangement. But he was persistent. And I polite. For a while I sought not to understand. Then I discovered I’d misplaced – albeit temporarily – the key to the armoured cable anchoring the bike to a bed frame. Wry smiles from a fellow passengers. Time to compromise, negotiate the most favourable solution.
[With especial thanks to Joe, Hanna and William and the rest of team studying with www.iesabroad.org in Beijing. Without whose help I seriously don’t think I’d ever have made it onto the sleeper. And in this piece the expression "warm handshake" means just that. My palms empty. Unlike in Azerbaijan]
