32 Hours to Chengdu. Really negative entry here.

And so began what would be 30 hours of grueling, sanity stretching transit. The bus wasn't particularly uncomfortable, but it wasn't particularly comfortable. A few unpleasantries struck me here and there; a man screaming into his cel phone, loud, drawn out loogies and the pungent smell of cheesy snacks mixed with dank upholstery.

We wound back down the mountains towards Lijiang where we would veer east and continue through more mountains towards Jinjiang, just inside the borders of Sichuan province. On a particularly narrow stretch, the bus slammed on the breaks and I looked up just in time to see a baffled sheep disappear under the front of the bus with a very audible thump. The bus stopped on the shoulder of the road so the driver could get out and follow whatever protocol there was to follow when one hits a sheep. Dozens of other piled out to have a smoke/survey the carnage. I stayed on board the whole half out it took to sort the mess out and get moving again.

We took a rest stop and I ate while local bumpkins gawked at me. Three hours later, after sunset, the bus passed through Lijiang. Everything after that was winding roads and darkness. There was a baby on board in the bunk beside me that would awake in a screaming rage every 20 or so minutes, so getting any sleep seemed neigh impossible. This went on forever. I think I may have slept.

Jinjiang didn't quite look like a city of any kind. I was confused. Where was the train station? I was to continue on to Chengdu, but how? Some taxi drivers showed up and yelled something at me in Mandarin. It turned out they were just asking where I was going (they yell everything here). I said "Chengdu" and they lit up and began hauling my bag into the cab. Now, that could have been really bad had I not clarified and said I wanted to catch a train to Chengdu. So they took me to the train station.

It was 6am and the train left at 12. Too much time to kill. Too tired. I slept for a bit in the train station, perched guardedly over my bag.

At noon I shuffled on board with the masses. My seat was more of a bench shared with a few stoic Chinese men. They would be the perfect travel companions. Quiet, polite, courteous. The complete opposite of the bedlam that slowly developed around me.

The train rolled through mountains. Many many mountains. In fact, I'd say at least 60% of the first leg of the trip was through tunnels. Every stop more and more people were getting on while no one seemed to be getting off. Two-person benches became three-person benches out of necessity. People started curling up on the floor. The aisle became horribly congested. before long it was a cattle car. The baby from the bus was a few seats down from me. The piercing wail was unmistakable.

Now, some jackass told me that the train ride was six hours, so I mentally prepared myself for a six hour train ride. At around the nine hour mark, I was getting very anxious. And cross. A food trough wheeled through the mess every so often to feed the hungry masses. Garbage and spit covered the floor, and everyone was shouting as loudly as they could. Every time I used the bathrooms I had to hold my breath. Men slept across the sinks and moved only slightly if somebody wanted to use one. I can't imagine anyone in Canada with the audacity to do something like that. But this was China.

Ten hours in. A kid who was too old to be cute regarded me with fascination. Nothing new until he started touching my nose and stroking my arm hair. Onlookers watched and grunted out laughs. When was this train ride going to end?

Eleven hours in we reached Chengdu, but we weren't stopping. I was standing in anticipation to get the hell off, but the train just kept going. For a whole other hour! I swear we were entering the city via a giant spiral cause it took forever! Finally we stopped and everyone surged off.

It was hot and rainy in Chengdu. It was midnight too, so the public buses had stopped running. Finding a hostel was going to be tough. Of course, every cab driver I showed the address and a map to made that Tim Allen "eeugh?" noise until finally some lady in a scooted cab picked me up. This was actually worse because she too had no idea where she was going, so it ended up being and aimless tour around town in the bumpiest, sketchiest thing the Chinese would consider road safe. I stopped her when I realized what was happening and took to guiding her manually from the back. Eventually I got fed up and had her drop me off a mere block away. At this point she began screaming at me to no end. I was so tired and furious, and I figured she wanted extra money for the wild goose chase that was her own damn fault. Seriously, it was a Chinese map and I was navigating it better than she was. I lost my temper at her, and I seriously regret it, but at that time, my sanity was bled dry. She got the last scrap of money from my wallet and I wasn't even at the hotel.

I wandered around for about 45 minutes until a kind soul with a good head on his shoulders led me exactly to where I needed to go. Why is finding a guesthouse in China always so damn difficult? Idiot cab drivers, renamed streets, hidden entranceways.

LOFT was the name of the place. The beds were a ridiculous 45 yuan, up from the 20 yuan quoted in the Lonely Planet. As always, one mention and the prices go through the roof. I was in no position to argue though, so I had to settle. At least it was very nice.

From Kevin's Guesthouse to LOFT, it was about 32 hours of stress, frustration and discomfort. Nary a wink was attained the whole time, so my first order of business was to sleep like a lazy piece of trash until my body was once again ready for the outside world.

No pictures because I was in such a terrible mood.