And on Through the Night

And on through the night. 

As the train pulled into Lu Wo station, the border crossing from the New Territories into China via Shenzhen, we had clearly entered the real China. Visitors from the safety of Hong Kong donned their facemasks preemptively as opposed to only the curtious and sick wearing them elsewhere. English all but disappeared from any unofficial signage, and we found ourselves herded into much more milliant corrals in which to be inspected. Finally one of the checkpoint officials used an infared thermometer on our foreheads to verify our body temperature before being allowed entry into the country. 

Once through a very serious seeming immigration we entered a world completely different than the land of Prada we'd just left. Entering a new city at night always gives room for intimidation much like many of our trips through Mexico. Friendly police offered aid but miscommunication took us in circles until we finally arrived at the bus depot and not the ticketing center. 

An ode to Western toilets, how we miss porcelin seats and are left with porcelin holes in the floor, and you better have brought your own tissue paper. The women's room retained just enough standing water to really traumatize Jeanne. 

When the bus arrived Jeanne thought all of our troubles would be left behind though I had my doubts about a ten hour ride without a toilet. Imagining the duration of our flight to Japan minus a bathroom unsettled me. Boarding our "sleeper" bus filled me with new dread as three rows of berths lined our bus. After just barely being able to squeeze through either aisle we climbed into our upperlevel bunk after specifically requesting lower arrangements only to discover my arms didn't fit inside the bed never mind than both my head and feet pressed against the rest of this MASH esque gurney. A seatbelt placed me in single point restraints as it would any other demented hospital patient. 

Finding a comfortable sleep position didn't matter as my one size too small mummy sleeping bag of a bed had been secured atop a Range Rover hell bent on qualifying for an off road rally race. Nevermind the potholes - our driver weaved in and out and past all traffic in his way rocking us all about madly. My only relief came from random distantly placed pitstops where the pain of needing to urinatate while a seatbelt dug into my belly could be momentarily subdued.  

My spirits uplifted at last as the first karsts appeared through the windows as enormous gray spectors guarding a foggy empty countryside. Jeanne mocked my excitement, "Yes, that's why we're here." Daggers penetrating a flat landscape many still surrounded by the rivers that carved them.   

Thanks to team China at the wheel, rather than arriving at Yangshuo at the borderline unreasonable hour of 6am we found ourselves in a ghost town at 4am. Only two kinds of people meander the streets that early in the morning: lost tourists and taxi drivers - a perfect combination. Each desired to take us to his preferred hostel and with no other place to go we caved in for the one who promised his to only be a five minute walk. We knew our hotel to be a good five minutes outside of town and didn't want to be driven to who knows where.

Tea and toilets without doors seemed welcome enough given our circumstances, and then the travel packages bargaining began. We would soon learn that every local has some excursion to offer and nothing could free our sleep deprived bodies from settling on something he offered. 

The event concluded with all parties exhausted at some point after 6am after which he agreed to drive us to our hotel to sleep all day before an evening activity through his booking. 

Finally our luck turned as we found the people currently staying in our room eating an early breakfast and checking out. They served us breakfast as well despite the restaurant not supposed to be open for another hour and quickly cleaned and turned over our room shortly after we finished eating.