Sunday, December 4, 2016

Friday, October 14 – Saturday, October 15: Departure and Arrival

When we first heard how cheap Nexus Holidays’ China Delight tour was, Karen and I suddenly developed a yen to see the Middle Kingdom, something we had never felt much urgency about before. What can I say? We’re suckers for a bargain.

The all-in price, just over $5,000 for both of us, included return flights from Toronto to Beijing, flights from Beijing to Shanghai, Shanghai to Xi’an (for the terracotta soldiers) and from Xi’an back to Beijing. Plus 11 nights accommodation in four-star hotels, virtually all meals, English-speaking guides everywhere and transfers. Our price also included four evenings of optional theatre entertainment, boat tours and other extras.

How could they do it for so little? My speculation: the government subsidizes the price as a way to promote tourism, and to create opportunities for propagandizing westerners. Even if this was true, though, we didn’t see why it should bother us. A bargain is a bargain. We had no illusions about what China was or what it represented, and were unlikely to be persuaded differently about it. We just wanted to see the sights.
                      
Cathy Basile, the retired social worker-cum-travel agent who sold us the package, had been on the tour the previous year at the same time. She assured us the accommodation was excellent, truly four star, not some tawdry third-world approximation. The food was acceptable, sometimes very good, and the entertainments and extra tours were “fabulous,” “stunning,” not to be missed.

Our one reservation was that China Delight was billed as a “shopping and sight-seeing” tour. We’re not shoppers. But it appeared the shopping events weren’t purely for shopping. (Appearances can be deceiving.) In each case – a silk factory, pearl farm, cloisonné factory, pottery workshop, tea plantation – we were promised demonstrations and tours. We thought we could tolerate that, might even find it interesting.

So we signed up, along with our friends Ralph and Pat Lutes – and, as it turned out, 30 other Londoners, including Cathy Basile, her husband Nino (both comped, I’m guessing), and some friends and friends of friends of Pat’s.

We drove down to Toronto with Ralph and Pat and met the rest of the group at Pearson. Check-in was reasonably civilized, although Pat ran into a slight glitch because Nexus had spelled her name wrong on the ticket. It didn’t match her passport. This was particularly galling because she had already had to pay to change the ticket once after she initially provided incorrect information. In the end, it was sorted.

Karen and I, for whatever reason, were waved into an express line for security, so got through very quickly. And the plane when we got on, more or less on time, was surprisingly roomy and comfortable, with a modern seat-back video entertainment system. It appeared to be a very new aircraft. This all seemed to augur well for the trip.

The flight, however, was as grueling as might be expected. Thirteen hours is a long time. Neither of us sleep well on planes, especially Karen. I might have dozed in snatches for an hour or two, Karen less. I watched one Chinese movie, Mountains May Depart, about small-town family and marital relations, and politics. It’s set in three different periods: 1999, 2014, 2025. The last part is set in Australia, where two of the characters have emigrated. To me, it had something of the feel of French New Wave films of the 1950s and 1960s. The food was, surprise, not very good.

When we arrived, at about 8 p.m. the following evening, we were zombies. Our “national” guide, the guy who would be with us for the entire trip, “Leo” Li (Li Wen Xiang), was there to meet us and shepherd us to the waiting bus. Leo turned out to be a really lovely guy, incredibly conscientious, hard-working and solicitous of his charges. We figured he must be in his mid- to late thirties. It’s often difficult for us to tell with Chinese; he looked younger. His English was accented and simplified, but perfectly understandable most of the time.

The Beijing hotel was a suburban Ramada – all the big chains are here – in a commercial strip along a service road just off the motorway. I’m not sure it was four-star, but it was fine: quiet, big bed, more or less clean. The tap water was not potable, however. We were warned to not even use it for teeth cleaning. The place had the look of a business hotel, but seemed more full of tourists, mostly Chinese. Leo had taken our passports, as he would before arrival at each new hotel, and checked us in en masse. We waited in the lobby, like school kids, until he came and handed out our key cards. Welcome to tour-group travel!


We were in bed and asleep – drugged – by a little after ten.

No comments:

Post a Comment