Chinese Buffet – Part 10: Day Train to Shanghai

by Kelly Amabile on
Chinese Buffet is a month-long series that chronicles the travels of an American woman who visited China for the first time in July 2007.


When I originally decided that I was going to take a train from Beijing to Shanghai, I figured I’d take the night train, since it’s inexpensive and saves time by transporting you while you sleep. I’d done this to save time and money on several European overnight journeys in the past. But I realized that on this China trip, I wasn’t really in a rush. And I’m a big fan of train travel — I enjoy the experience of staring aimlessly out the window for hours, reading a book or catching up on journal writing.

Since this was my very first train trip in China, and I had the time to spare, I decided to investigate day train options. Seat 61 alerted me to news of the brand new express electric train that began daily runs between the two cities in April 2007. I decided that the D31 bullet train would be the way I’d go.

Budget backpackers on a tight schedule and no extra RMB might skip this pricier option, but since I’d only spent $30 on my four nights in the hutong hostel, I decided that the “splurge” for this train ride was worth it. At 327 RMB for a second class ticket, the D31 ten-hour trip would set me back a whopping $43 bucks. I pay more than twice that for a lousy 4-hour Amtrak from NYC to DC!

But before I get too excited, let me rewind to the ticket purchase process:

Although I didn’t have to persevere as long as Ember and her pals did when purchasing the ticket, it was a confusing process that could potentially cause major headaches, especially if you’re planning to buy on your own. I had heard about rules regarding when you can buy (usually only five days in advance if not purchasing through a travel agency) and so I waited till mid-week, and then feared I had let too much time pass. Thank goodness for my wonderful Mandarin-fluent Couchsurfing host, who sent me off to the main train station with my ticket purchase request written out in Chinese characters.

(Model of Beijing Zhan from the Urban Planning Exhibition – just imagine loads of folks queued up out front!)

It was early morning and the station was swarming with people. I didn’t know about the English language lines, so I just picked one queue from among the millions and waited my turn as best I could. A few folks cut ahead of me, and others just stared. I asked a few young Chinese students if I was on the right line and they said it didn’t matter, I would be fine on any line. And I was — but I think it was just good luck! Eventually I got to the window clerk, showed my precious piece of paper, received a nod, paid up and was given a small orange ticket that said D31 and showed the proper departure date. Relief! If only I had remembered to ask for a window seat!!!

A few days later I made my way back to the station. I was pleasantly surprised to find this comfy setup when I arrived ridiculously early for my 10:50 departure:

I verified with the cafe manager that I was in the right place and then settled down with a cold latte, amusing myself with the English translations of other items offered on the menu: Home gruel, Mexico popcorn, Turkey West disabilities, Toronto allocated winter hamburger fries. I munched on some of my own homemade trail mix instead.

By about 10 am the waiting room was packed and I soon befriended Bobby, a 12-year-old from Beijing who spoke excellent English. He was traveling with his cousin and grandparents, and it was cute how his grandfather motioned for Bobby to come sit next to me, and then began video-recording us as we chatted.

Bobby took me under his wing, asking me all sorts of questions about where I was from and where I was going. We talked a lot about American movies, as he had just seen the new Transformers film. He asked to see my train ticket:

“The train to Shanghai takes eight minutes,” Bobby explained.

“Wow! That is really fast!” I smiled at him, hinting with a wink, so that he would realize his mistake.

He giggled. “Oh!! I mean eight hours! But it used to take 15. Now they have faster trains.”

Bobby and his grandfather escorted me to the next room when it was time to board. I had my own bodyguard buddies! They were waiting for a different train that would take them to the coast. We said our goodbyes and Bobby waved behind me for awhile, as if old pals were parting ways. The last remaining nerves I had about the train trip were gone. I boarded and made myself as comfortable as I could in my middle seat:

The whole point of taking the day train was so that I could SEE things, but that proved to be quite challenging from where my seat was located. I made the best of it and was rewarded about an hour later, when the gentleman on the aisle of our row disembarked at the first stop. (The D31 only stopped two or three times the entire day — I can’t recall what the first stop was, but it did stop in Xuzhou later in the day.)

I still didn’t have a window seat, but I was happy with an “upgrade” to the now vacant aisle seat. I got up every hour or so and would walk to the end of the car, where I could stretch my legs and do my window staring. The landscape consisted mostly of cornfields and construction:

The train itself was very clean and comfortable. But as the day progressed, so did the smells. A woman across the aisle from me pulled a whole cooked chicken out of her purse at one point and just started chowing down on it. I’m sure it was quite yummy, but after awhile all the food smells started to linger. The train staff would move through the cars every hour or so, collecting new trash. I noticed these bags after awhile, piled up where I had been standing to look out the window:

No more landscape gazing for me. I snoozed for a bit, read a great short novel, and then pulled out my collection of compact Shanghai guidebooks. In only a few more hours I’d arrive at my next destination:

The World’s Largest Bathroom

by Justin Glow on

We really love toilets here at Gadling. Seriously, look at our previous coverage. It’s insane!

Iva found a better cleaning solution than toilet paper, Neil’s got a solution for urinating on-the-go, and I discovered that Japan’s All Nippon Airways is the first airline to install bidets in their planes. But wait, there’s more! You can find the nearest bathroom from your cell phone, read a funny story about squat toilets (and learn how to properly use one as well), learn the history of toilets from the toilet museum, and take a luxurious dump in the woods with the BioToi. Deep breath. Did you know that Silverjet has women-only toilets? It’s true. And what about the world’s most amazing bathrooms? We’ve got that too. We’ve also got Willy’s wonderful roundup of urinals with spectacular views. Speaking of urinals — what’s that fly doing in there? If you’re ever lost in China and needin’ to pee, have no fear: hire a toilet guide who will show you to a lovely outdoor urinal (be careful though — they’re running out of receipts). We’ve got the world’s best bathrooms, the world’s worst, and the world’s largest toilet that turned out to not be a toilet at all. And if you’re curious (I’m sure there’s someone out there who is), we’ve got coverage on the World Toilet Summit in Moscow. Did you know there are a lot of, um, people having sex in airport bathrooms? Is that even legal? Curious why your last flight was delayed? It may be because the air traffic controller needed to use the bathroom! And only because this has got to stop sometime (I gotta pee anyway), here’s the last one: did this woman die from a shaft of frozen urine that fell from an airplane? You decide.

With that, here’s another bit of toilet-related news to round out our coverage: It’s the world’s largest bathroom in China, spread out over four floors and 30,000 square feet.

Chinese Buffet – Part 9: The Bookworm Grows in China

by Kelly Amabile on
Chinese Buffet is a month-long series that chronicles the travels of an American woman who visited China for the first time in July 2007.

Before I depart on any trip, I always do some research on bookstores in the cities I’ll be visiting. (My own personal Bookstore Tourism planning, of course!) As I researched the bookstore situation in China, I learned about the large state owned operations and at least one English-language chain. But one of the most interesting places I read about was this lime green literary hub, which sits pretty atop a water pumping station in Beijing’s popular Sanlitun neighborhood:

Primarily a cafe, The Bookworm is cushioned by shelves of books and supported by a growing membership and impressive events schedule. It’s a unique community library, cultural center and gathering place for both locals and travelers that opened in Beijing in 2004 and is now expanding throughout China.

I visited The Bookworm on an event night in early July, arriving several hours before the scheduled speaker, so I could enjoy the atmosphere, grab some dinner and chat with Bookworm founder Alexandra Pearson.

The first of the Bookworm’s three spacious rooms has the most social atmosphere, houses the bar, and is one of the cafe’s two smoking rooms. This is where most folks seem to hang out and chat or check email on The Bookworm’s free wifi:

Directly behind the bar area is a cozier room with lounges and a few tables. This is where members can check out books from the lending library, and also purchase select nonfiction titles that The Bookworm keeps in stock. There are cards and jewelry for sale as well:

The third room is the non-smoking room, and home to The Bookworm’s fiction collection. During the two times that I sat and worked on my laptop in this room, I observed a variety of folks browsing the shelves, meeting over coffee or dining with family and friends. The menu serves up typical Western fare with academic names like Plato and Pythagoras. The motto says it all – folks come to The Bookworm to Eat, Drink and Read:

The Bookworm operates to serve the local English-speaking population – expats and Chinese locals too, looking to improve their English language skills. Foreign travelers increasingly seek it out as well — a comfortable haven that may provide a “homesick fix”. It can be a peaceful place to relax in the afternoon, or a chill spot to party in the evening.

In the Bookworm’s back room I met Benjamin Tang, a Taiwanese-American based in Houston, TX, who has been traveling to China since 1990. Ben explained to me that when he visits China, it is usually for several weeks at a time, and what frustrates him sometimes is the lack of being able to obtain information from the “outside world”:

“After traveling in China for a couple of weeks, I somehow feel disconnected from the rest of the world. Going to the Bookworm has always helped me fill that void. The liberation of the mind is a wonderful feeling.”

The series of literary and cultural events that The Bookworm organizes throughout the year is exactly what draws Ben and so many others to visit again and again. As it approached event time, the fiction room transformed into a sea of curious faces, and by the time things began at 7:30 pm, there were about 120 people in attendance. They had all come to hear Dr. Kerry Brown talk about his new book, Struggling Giant: China in the 21st Century.

The Bookworm hosts author events like this on a weekly basis, and also runs children’s programs and monthly musical events — the bar area is home to a piano too. Owner Alexandra Pearson originally came to China when her parents moved to work at the British Embassy. She left, then returned to China in the early 1990’s to study at The Central Conservatory of Music in Beijing. Several years later, she had a business venture for which she purchased a collection of books. When ownership changed hands, Alexandra lost the books, but a few years later was able to buy them back. Those 2,000 books formed the foundation of The Bookworm.

The majority of books that make up The Bookworm’s collection – now 20,000 strong – have come from donations. Because foreign-language books are so expensive to purchase in China, Alexandra envisioned The Bookworm as a place for exchange — of books and literary ideas. The collection, while large, is far from comprehensive (by library standards) — but the real value lies in the community and cultural discussion that the Bookworm environment fosters.

And recently the Bookworm has branched out to offer that same community atmosphere to other Chinese cities. After the Beijing location was up and running successfully, there was talk of taking the concept elsewhere. Alex teamed up with partner Peter Goff to open a second library cafe branch in Chengdu in 2006.

And the momentum continues. While traveling in China, I had a chance to meet Peter and visit the future home of Bookworm #3, positioned along one of the canals of Suzhou, a popular “water town” about 40 minutes by train from Shanghai. In mid-July, the demolition and gutting process was well underway:

A former journalist in Hong Kong, Peter eventually moved to mainland China and was a Beijing Bookworm patron first, before teaming up with his friend Alexandra. He manages the logistics of start-up and expansion outside of Beijing, while she focuses on the book collection and event content for all three locations.

As Peter explained, there is obviously a much smaller expat market outside of Beijing, but he and Alexandra still saw great value in taking The Bookworm brand elsewhere. They see the opportunity to appeal to a larger Chinese market, which means offering a greater portion of events in Chinese at these smaller locations. The English speaking population is just not large enough at the moment, so while all the books on the shelves are in English, certain programs offered in Chengdu and Suzhou will be run in Chinese. The Suzhou branch is scheduled to open sometime in mid to late September 2007:

Beginning this fall, Alexandra Pearson will be booking authors to do mini-tours of all three library locations. The Bookworm branches will also work together on their annual Literary Festival, which will take place in March 2008.

News of a growing Bookworm network is fantastic for English-language readers living in China, but it’s just as great for lit-minded travelers too. Each store has an email newsletter, so sign up if you’ll be traveling to China — it’s an easy way to keep informed about events that may be happening during your trip. Visiting a Bookworm is sure to be an excellent way to connect with locals and other travelers too. And, if you’ve got extra books in your backpack that you’re looking to unload, now you know where to donate them!

One for the Road – China: A Traveller’s History of China

by Kelly Amabile on

As a sidebar to this month’s Chinese Buffet series, throughout August, One for the Road will highlight travel guides, reference books and other recommended reads related to life or travel in China.

These days it seems as if everyone has written a book about the current (and rapidly changing) state of affairs in China. There is no shortage of titles to choose from. I chose Oracle Bones to read before my departure for the PRC, but then looked for a basic historical overview to gain further background about the country. Again, the options seem endless. So I went with the one that seemed most suitable for me: A Traveller’s History of China from Interlink Books (4th edition, 2006).

This mini-textbook provides a suitable introduction to the country’s history, politics, culture and geography. Author Stephen G. Haw has written a straightforward summary of the origins of Chinese civilization straight through to talk of Taiwan, Hong Kong and the future. Any book that can succinctly squash “two million years of history into 300 pages” should be applauded — and since this one is slanted slightly towards travelers intending to visit China, it’s an excellent title to consider. The index includes a list of all dynasties, chronology of major historical events and an explanation of Chinese characters.

Chinese Buffet – Part 8: Contemplation at the Temples

by Kelly Amabile on

Chinese Buffet is a month-long series that chronicles the travels of an American woman who visited China for the first time in July 2007.

Besides wandering through shady parks, I spent quite a bit if my week in Beijing roaming the grounds of the city’s various temples. Like the parks and gardens, temples were my serene havens, where I could sneak off to escape the bustling streets. Many temples are located right in the middle of the busy city that has built up around them, but once inside the walls of these sanctuaries, the urban buzz dissipates.

Dongyue, a Taoist temple tucked between tall buildings along Chaoyangmen in the eastern part of the city, was the first one I visited. Not having been to a temple before, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I tried not to focus on the fact that the theme of this place is Death. (Dong Yue is the mountain peak that the spirits of the dead travel to.)

This donkey was one of the first things that caught my eye, but I circled the entire temple before I came back to it for a closer look. It was only on my second pause by this guy that I learned the story behind the Bronze Wonder Donkey, who was the riding animal for the God Wen Chang:

“Being a supernatural animal, it has the head of a horse, the body of a donkey, the tail of a mule and the split hoof of a bull. As the story goes, touching the animal could cure diseases and proved to be highly effective.”

Apparently it used to be a customary practice to visit the donkey for a rub of good fortune.

This was exactly the kind of good omen I was looking for. A close relative of mine back in the US was undergoing major surgery that day, and I had told her that I’d seek out a sacred place where I could send some good thoughts her way. I gave the donkey a few good rubs in the worn spots on his snout and side where so many others had done so before.

A few days later I visited the Yong He Gong or Lama Temple, more popular with tourists groups, and it certainly showed in the number of folks milling about. The smell of incense was intense — that lingering scent will be what I remember most from my visit here. I sat and watched worshipers light and burn the hot pink and yellow sticks, meditating on what meaning any of this had for me.

This temple, the largest working one in Beijing, is home to the “yellow hat” Lama sect of Buddhism. There is a large group of monks from Tibet and Mongolia who regularly worship here. A group of the fine feathered fellas came outside while I sat nearby. They chanted in low tones as tourists gathered around them. I stayed back, on a bench across the courtyard, and zoomed in with my camera for this shot:

I sat in the Lama Temple for quite awhile, listening to the humming Buddhist prayers, and how they seemed to move in rhythm with the snores of the Chinese man asleep on the bench next to me. It was comical and spiritual — there was some sort of spirit moving through the air — a peaceful one, that also had a sense of humor.

Directly across the street and about halfway down a hutong alley from the Lama Temple is the Confucius Temple, which is currently undergoing major renovation. It was deserted except for staff and construction crew, but was still open to the public. I enjoyed the emptiness of the place — and took the opportunity to get creative with my digital camera. While incense was the strong scent at Lama, here it was the paint. These glimmering red columns (which I liked contrasted against the bright green leaves) looked as if they were still wet.:

When I went to leave the temple about 30 minutes later, an older gentleman seated by the door motioned for me to head left before exiting. It turns out there was an entire other section of the temple that I would have missed completely if it were not for his direction. I wound up spending another hour or so exploring the additional grounds and buildings, and spent most of my time in a long dimly lit room near the rear of the complex. I again found myself having fun with the camera, trying to catch shadows and light:

I had stumbled upon the Qianlong Stone Scriptures, the “forest of the steles of the Thirteen Classics.” This collection of 190 stones is inscribed with much of the tenets of Confucian philosophy. The temple staff members positioned at either end of the narrow hall each spoke to me in Chinese — I knew they were both trying to share information with me about these stones, about their significance, no doubt. I nodded silently, feeling reverent, but frustrated that I could not talk with them. In the absence of common language, there was only silence to share. All I could do was walk in awe, capturing visual memories of this life-size stone book:

My hours of contemplative wandering through Beijing’s temples were solitary explorations that uncovered treasures like these oracle stones. I didn’t need to know all the details of Taoism, Buddhism or Confucianism to find meaning in these places. I just looked at my own belief system from a different perspective, and discovered common ground — universal truths about fortune, good health, humor and the power of words.