The Bus Ride

I intended to take a direct bus back to Chengdu, but… I got sidetracked after sharing a bit of conversation and two Bing Tang with an English-speaking guest at the Ludao. That’s why I was on my way to Chengdu, but not before a stop in Langzhong.

Fortunately I purchased my bus ticket the night before; it can be a frightening experience trapped in a long line up advancing one slow step at a time towards a ticket window, not knowing how the person on the other side will respond to your foreign “Ni Hao, Langzhong please…”

If you ever get that far to begin with; Chinese folk are not shy, can actually be quite swift at bus stations, before you have time to say “Hey, don’t do that…” they take place between your alien soul and the ticket window, and you step forward but never get ahead…

Almost everywhere however, there seems to be some out-of-the-way office or secret wicket reserved for foreigners, all you have to do is find it…

It was a long ride from Xian to Guangyuan where I would change bus to Langzhong, The sleeping girl in the photo who introduced herself as the Conductor, would let me know when and where this would happen.

She kept busy for an hour or so providing passengers with bottles of water, soda-pop, and packages of sweet and salty cookies. Later, when she was not sleeping she would flirt with the tall, good looking bus driver, or play with a couple of tiny turtles in a clear plastic container…

The highway appeared brand new; the bus smoothly cruised between mountains, coasted along the steep banks of a river, passing towns, villages, and mile after mile of beautifully cultivated fields. Almost perpendicular on mountains-sides, every bit of land available seemed to flourish with yellow-flower crops…

It started to rain, The countryside trough plump raindrops streaming down the dusty window looked like watercolour paintings…

We pulled up at a road-side eatery. Following the other passengers I took a plate and chopsticks and helped myself, buffet-style, to the best Chinese food I have ever tasted. Methinks I would go back for a second helping …

Back on the bus I perceived the handsome bus driver and the playful conductor had more interest in each other than a working partnership…

On the wet bitumen a few hundred meters ahead of us, a truck with a heavy load slid sideways obstructing the way… There was a long delay. I detected no sign of highway police nor sounds of ambulance… nor could I tell how severe the accident had been. Everyone remained silently calm, no one got off the bus, there was nothing we could do but wait…