While I’m in Baku for the FIFA U-17 Women’s World Cup, I thought it’d be fun to rework some posts from the old blog I kept during my time in China and publish them here. You get new posts, and I get to focus on football and stuffing my face with Azerbaijani food. Win-win.
Today’s flashback took place in April 2008. I was living in Dalian at the time, and wanted to visit a good friend who was teaching English in nearby Taiyuan. While only a 90-minute flight away, I was 18 and cheap and thought I’d try the long-distance bus. It turned into a 21-hour ordeal that included many, many boxes of fruit and zero bathrooms.
———
The trip was doomed from the beginning. That morning, I arrived at the Dalian bus station two hours early to buy a ticket to Taiyuan — only to learn there was no ticket booth.
Tickets had to be purchased on the buses themselves, so I followed a questionable-looking tout who nearly led me to buy a ticket and board a bus headed to Kaiyuan. After explaining that I wanted to head to Taiyuan, I was a shot a variety of dirty looks and everyone around me muttered something I’m sure was about tones.
After buying the right ticket — 350 yuan, or 50 USD at the time — I was told to come back at 11:30 to board the bus. At said time, I stepped onto the bus only to hear from the driver and his ticket wench, “We don’t recognize you. We don’t recognize this ticket. Who sold you your ticket?”
I pointed to my ticket-seller.
“Nope, not possible. Don’t recognize you; get off this bus.”
I began freaking out — was I just ripped off 350 kuai?! Luckily, someone came running over and confirmed I had indeed purchased the ticket.
But thanks to this hassle, bus ticket lady decided she did not like me. She wasn’t happy to let me on, then I wasn’t happy that I had to take my shoes off to board the bus; she wasn’t happy that I wasn’t happy about the whole shoe situation.
So just as I settle into a bunk, she tells me to get up. Ticket wench then points to a mattress in the very back of the bus.
“You get that one,” she orders.
I move my bags over, make peace with my surroundings — staring, smelly men and a pile of discarded mattresses — and we’re finally off to Taiyuan.
———
Not long after we depart, the bus pulls over. The crew load some unidentified cargo into the bus hold. No big deal.
Half an hour later, we pull over again. And then again.
Soon there’s no room left down below, so everything must be moved onto the bus itself. That’s when we learn what the precious cargo is:
Boxes…upon styrofoam boxes…of FRUIT.
I later figured out they were nectarines — I had plenty of samples to analyze as the crew kept nicking handfuls from the boxes and feeding them to everyone, presumably to keep us from griping about the situation. (“Who cares if we’re running four hours behind? I have FREE NECTARINES.”)
By the time all the damn fruit had been loaded on board, the boxes took up a good third of the back of the bus. Every free space, every nook and cranny was filled with fruit. Green leaves were dangling everywhere.
Now these buses are cramped to begin with — imagine a regular-sized coach bus, but throw in three rows of bedframes with an upper and lower bunk in each row. I went from having a liiiittle space to maneuver, to having absolutely NONE.
The crew kept moving boxes until my bed was surrounded by fruit — not only from the back to the front, but also from the floor to the ceiling. It felt very Cask of Amontillado-ish.
You know what a terrible, horrible noise styrofoam makes when pushed against other pieces of styrofoam, right? Now multiply that by 300. And try to fall asleep to that lullaby.
I’m then informed there aren’t enough beds for passengers coming on at a later stop, so a mattress must be placed in the space between the fruit boxes and me. The mattress was wider than the space available, meaning it cut into my personable bubble.
Needless to say, the woman who arrived later to to find her bed nearly on top of mine was a bit shocked.
She complained quite a bit, so to make her feel more comfortable the bus crew placed a mattress atop a pile of boxes in the aisle, and she slept between two people — instead of between one person and a stack of fruit boxes ready to fall and crush her at any second.
Lucky for the alternate bus driver, this woman’s move meant he got a cozy little place to nap in between drives. Unlucky for me, this arrangement meant that every time he moved, I got elbowed in the face. I was also uncomfortable sleeping that close to a strange man, so for a while I slept sitting up, with my head in my hand and my elbows on my knees.
Besides being sleep-deprived and driven crazy by the sound of squeaking styrofoam, by this point I also really needed to pee. They wouldn’t let us off the bus during previous fruit-loading breaks, so I was anxiously waiting for the next rest stop, which took place in the middle of the night.
Of course, the next stop was also a police checkpoint.
When the crew found out officers were coming on board for a routine check, they raced to throw blankets over all the boxes of fruit (because floor-to-ceiling blanketing that obscures almost half a bus does not look suspicious in the least).
Of course, they first chucked a few nectarines into my hand to buy my silence. I didn’t eat them for fear of my bladder exploding into my intestines.
Two hours later, we were allowed to continue on our merry way down the dark highway to Taiyuan.
———
The bus had left at noon the day before and was due to arrive at 6 am. Thanks to the fruit loading and checkpoint delays, we did not pull into the station until 10 am, at which point I had been holding my bladder for 15 hours. I ran into the station bathroom — the first and only time I’ve ever not cared about being in a door-less bathroom, surrounded by twenty women watching me pee.
To be fair, I don’t know if we actually were part of an illegal fruit smuggling operation. I don’t even know if fruit smuggling is a lucrative business. But judging by the secretive actions of the bus crew, especially when the police came on board, I’m guessing there was something not completely legitimate about their fruit transportation.
Regardless, it was a long time before I ate a nectarine again. To this day, the sight of them makes me hear faint squeaks of styrofoam in the distance…
What’s your worst transportation story? Is fruit smuggling a thing? Share your thoughts in the comments!
25 Comments
GoYvon
September 28, 2012 at 11:12Oh my god! What a horrible story! I can’t even imagine a bus ride like that and I’ve been in quite some afwul train/bus rides.
Think the worst was the night train when I had standing tickets and stranger wanted to take pictures of/with me at 3am in the morning…
edna
November 17, 2012 at 10:31Standing tickets! I think that might be worse, at least I was able to sit and lie down (albeit uncomfortably)…and who wants a photo of someone else at 3 am?
Steph (@ 20 Years Hence)
September 29, 2012 at 03:09Oh goodness! We have not braved any busrides longer than 6 hours, and to be honest, I am terrified of Chinese buses that involve beds as given how most of the drivers take to the road, I really do want to be strapped down tight! It really is a wonder that there wasn’t a nectarine avalanche during your ordeal!
edna
November 17, 2012 at 10:32The minute I stepped off my bunk, a few of the boxes toppled over and fell where I’d just been. (I’ve got a photo of that too, of course.) Never again, I tell you!
Magu Bee
September 29, 2012 at 15:48Reading this made me laugh so bad!
And at the same time reminded me of how two years ago in Indonesia I decided I wanted “the true SEA local train experience” and instead of taking a one hour flight, got myself the cheapest ticket for a 11 hour train ride. I was assured that I’d find a sitting place if I took that specific train – obviously, no seats were to be found. I managed to secure a bit of space in between two benches (I think it’s safe to say it was basically the only unoccupied piece of floor available at the time), only after I’d previously stopped all traffic on the train’s corridor by entering it with my two backpacks and blocking the damn thing. Oh, memories…
It might seem bad and uncomfortable at the given moment but don’t you think those experiences make for the best stories and the most sincere laugh later on? ;)
edna
November 17, 2012 at 10:33They really do make the best stories…even writing this, I laughed while remembering the ridiculousness of the whole situation!
Daisy
September 29, 2012 at 19:59Oh my gosh. I am so happy you survived! At least you now have a hilarious story and photos to prove that the misery was true!
edna
November 17, 2012 at 10:34Photos or it didn’t happen, right?
Daisy
September 29, 2012 at 19:59Also, I will never look at a nectarine the same way again . . .
Lauren
September 29, 2012 at 23:49I have to say, I found this hilarious. I love that you documented the whole thing in pictures and your face pretty much says it all. What a horror story. At least the return journey must have seemed luxurious by comparison!
edna
November 17, 2012 at 10:36Oh I flew back for sure. I am never going through that again if I can help it!
Aggy
October 1, 2012 at 09:02How scary, who knew a bus ride could be this bad. The expression on your face is priceless!
edna
November 17, 2012 at 10:37It was quite a shocker to be surrounded by so many boxes of fruit, I’ll tell you that.
Traveling Mo
October 2, 2012 at 20:37Oh my God, Edna, that is a fabulous story! I was laughing nearly the entire time, and your pictures are priceless. I’m sure it wasn’t fun and games at the time, but the retelling is pretty awesome.
My worst travel story can be called The Night Train from Hell. We had tickets for a train leaving at the crack of dawn from Krakow to Prague, and due to my need to spend my last zlotys in the bar the night before, we were a little sluggish in moving and missed our train. Ticketing person says “no worries, you can use these same tickets for a train leaving tonight instead”, or something to that effect. So we while away a lovely day in Krakow hanging at the hostel and eating pizza bagels. We get on the train that night. While there is a little confusion as to why we have tickets for the train that morning, we are shown to a compartment and let to stay there. The huge, glaring error on our part was that it was a nine hour train ride, and we had a normal compartment, not sleeping. It is impossible to get comfy and sleep in a Eurail train compartment in anything less than the fetal position. The other thing we didn’t realize was that when you purchase a ticket in a sleeping compartment, they collect your tickets and passport to show to officials every time there is a checkpoint or something like that. So several times that night, the lights were abruptly turned on and we had to sleepily present our tickets and passports. All of this sucked, but to make matters worse, there was something the matter with those pizza bagels and two of our four ended up throwing them up all night. We ended up in the huge, slightly scary Prague trainstation the next morning weak from fatigue and sickeness, and once having found our way to our friend’s place that was also staying there, took the day to recoup.
Like I said, Night Train from Hell.
edna
November 17, 2012 at 10:39Wow, I don’t even know which part is worst in that story, the pizza bagels or the checkpoint wake-ups! But hey, makes for a funny story down the road, right?
Susan
October 4, 2012 at 15:12You look like a BABY in these photos! And what a hilarious incident!
edna
November 17, 2012 at 10:40Yeah, after that incident I aged five years and have looked 23 ever since.
Jessica
October 6, 2012 at 02:08Oh my gosh, what a weird trip! It sounds awful, but at least it makes a good story afterwards. That styrofoam noise would have driven me absolutely insane – especially for such a long time!
But hooray for free nectarines.
edna
November 17, 2012 at 10:41Always a silver lining I guess!
Tom @ Waegook Tom
October 11, 2012 at 07:39Ohmygod hahahaha! This is hilarious – but terrifying. The sound of styrofoam makes my body spasm. I think I’d have turned into The Hulk and started crushing people with nectarines. Which are my favourite fruit, by the way.
edna
November 17, 2012 at 10:41I quite enjoy them too, actually. I should’ve just eaten them all, that would’ve showed them.
kelly@thehungryegghead
October 15, 2012 at 13:51And you were only 18! How brave of you!
I am amazed that you still like China after all this. I don’t think I can hold my bladder for 15 hours, the longest was 5 and 1/2 hours and that was with me hiking and sweating the entire way.
I can’t say that I am the biggest fan of China even though I was born there. Every time I visit, I am always glad that I was not raised there because there is just too much people and so little regulations.
edna
November 17, 2012 at 10:43I think things like this made me stronger and appreciate China more, especially all the people who have to put up with things like this on a daily basis and with no avenue for recourse (if that’d happened in the States, you bet we would’ve gotten some sort of compensation!). But I agree, it also makes me feel very fortunate and grateful that I was raised in the US.
amelie88
October 16, 2012 at 01:23Oh my gosh this story is ridiculous. I don’t think I have a travel story that tops this one! I’ve never taken a bus ride that lasted more than a few hours. Kudos to you for putting up with this! That might have put me off traveling by bus for a good long while! Though I do love nectarines, but not THAT much.
I did recently take Greyhound for the first time, NYC to Philly a month back. The only weird thing that happened on that bus was when some guy from the back of the bus got up to talk to the driver. I don’t think he understood/spoke English very well. He seemed to want to get off the bus for some reason, maybe he thought the bus stopped somewhere else but it was a direct “express” bus. Some passenger told him to please go sit down and finally the bus driver stopped on the shoulder of the highway which made all the mostly black passengers super frustrated and elicited cries of outrage. I hadn’t been back to NYC for a very long time so that experience was sort of like a “Welcome back to New York… asshole.” Once the guy sat down, the driver got on the microphone and announced “Next stop: Philadelphia” which made the passengers laugh. It was funny but I also felt bad for the guy who clearly did not really know what was going on!
edna
November 17, 2012 at 10:44Oh no, poor guy! Somewhere out there, there’s a foreign guy’s blog telling the story a bunch of pricks on a bus to NYC wouldn’t let him get off to use the bathroom or something, haha.