During the English heatwave of '06' when the British Isle was battered by temperatures occasionally soaring into the early 30's, I traveled the Indian Ocean to engage in some social cricket in the Surrey Sunday League. Disgracing myself as I left Sydney International Airport (and my girlfriend at the time) in a flood of tears. Sadness quickly turned to joy when I realised that my in-flight entertainment would consist of Fosters beer and re-runs of Jake and the Fatman.
My excitment was short lasting however when Jake and the Fatman was screened on what I can only assume was an antique VCR player and my beer was the taste and temperature of a cats excretory fluid. (mental note: Do not fly China Eastern Airways again, no matter how reasonable the fare.)
Coming to terms with my situation, I resisted the temptation to give the flight stewards a peice of my mind (not that they would understand my now inhibited speach) & instead opted for a couple hours of pushing out Z's.
A rush of adrenaline gripped me as our plane rushed the tarmack as I was soon to experience the cultural melting pot that is China. Casually I strolled the hallways of the Shanghai Airport after devising a fool proof plan hatched brilliantly late one night after being charmed by 'John' the travel agent at flight centre Belconnen, who convinced me of the financial and cultural benifits of travelling through the worlds most populous continent onboard China Eastern Airways. The plan essentially was to nestle into a quiet corner ala Tom Hanks in 'the terminal' and wait for my connecting flight the following day.
My plan was quickly 'rissoled' when I was informed by security staff that Shanghai International airport closes for maintenaince at 1:00am and I would have to make my way to one of the region's glittering hotel/
After assistance from a freindly guide by way of recommendation for safe and affordable accomodation, I ventured to the cab rank to be escorted to my hotel. It was hard to judge whether my sense of anxiety stepping into the cab which came in the form of a Mitsubishi Starwagon stemmed from the lack of seat belts, the three triad looking figures wheeling & dealing on the back seat or the fact my escort saw road rules as mere guidelines, demonstrated by accelerating rather than braking through red lights. I comforted myself with the knowledge I would soon be greeted by a warm shower and a comfortable bed.
So it was with relief that I exited the Starwagon and entered the hotel foyer. Unpacking my bags I thought I should experience some of what China had to offer and made a beeline to the resturaunt and bar.
Not wanting to destabilise the digestive system too much I scanned the menu for a conservative nutritional option, Pork with vegetables seemed a reasonable selection and I assumed would be fairly standardised across cultures. It appeared that 'Pork' came from what must be a relative of the pig in China, the dog. After washing poor old 'Rover' down with a couple of the regions famous brews I engaged myself in conversation with a few of my fellow westerners.
I sympathised with the weary travellers after hearing they had not enjoyed the finest this country had to offer, one a middle aged English business man being scammed by some dodgy Chinese criminal croonies and the other a sweet twenty something American teacher whose billeters failed to gather her from the specified location.
Travelling to a foreign country it is easy to assimilate with just the westerners so I decided to engage in conversation with a local called 'Kim'. Kim was a 40 year old half Japanese/Chinese traveller who had stopped in at the bar for a nightcap, as Bill's 'Engrish' was scratchy and my Chinese was non existent we participated in a game not dissimilar to Pictionary where I would ask Kim questions and he would answer by drawing pictures on our bill. For example: The question how many kids do you have? Would be answered by three stick figures and one with a skirt, which I assumed meant two sons and daughter and not the cross dressing black sheep of the family!!
Kim also introduced me to the Japanese tradition of finishing the night with a plate full of steaming green vegetables which was a pleasant change from the greasy 3am burgers from checkers that had become the norm after a night on the D-floor at the 'fighthouse'.
Sadly I bid farewell to my new BFF and headed for the comfort of room 161. keeping 'bill' in hand as a memento and noted in my journal the story of 'Kim, Bill and I'.
The following day I awoke somewhat shadey after possibly one too many cold one's with Kim but felt the all the richer for experiencing his company. I gathered my gear and took my chances re-boarding the Starwagon back to the airport with PUH-LEN-TY of time in hand before take off.
Loading my luggage onto the conveyer belt, I queired the attendant on what time I should make my way to the plane, in broken English she replied, ' you go 1:50, 1:50, ok?', 'Sure, thanks lady', once was enough I thought before she pulled out a flyer and biro, penning on the back '1:50pm'. 'OK, I GET IT...Sheesh' before returning to my seat primed outside the gates ensuring I didnt miss a beat with an hour and 20 mins up my sleeve, only vacating my post for an urgent call of nature, thinking to myself 'Well done buddy, youve given yourself plenty of time... probably given yourself too much time if anything'
I peered through my spectacles as the big hand slowly made its way in traditional clockwise fashion towards 1:50pm target, 'best be a bit early' as I collected my carry on's and shuffled through customs. After the obligatory inspection of passport and accompaning identification I strolled the hallways to my flight happy with the way I'd negotiated my China experience, giving myself the figurative pat on the back, before glancing lackadaisically at the departure board ahead.
{Flight CE732 Shainghai-Heathrow Gates: Closed}
Closed, that cant be right, surely that's an error.. so confident was I that there was no need to break stride as I made my way to the counter to speak to Chung Li the attendant.
Wheats: Hi Chung, terribly sorry to interupt you, there seems to be some sort of mistake.. it says on the board my gate has closed but as you can see its only 2pm, so just point me in the right direction and Ill be out of your hair!!
Chung: YOU LATE, YOU LATE... THAT PLANE BEHIND YOU, THAT YOUR PLANE .
Wheats: Huh?? (my heart raised a murmur, as I looked at the monstrous China Eastern Plane, reflecting from the mirror behind Chung)
Chung: YOU LATE, YOU WAIT HERE I GO TELL SOMEONE.
Judging by Chung's leisurley pace, I assumed it was only a matter of a quick word via walkie talkie to the captain notifying him of my whereabouts before being ushered down the platform with a few apologies a long the way for my tardiness and into my seat.
As Chung's gait approached snails pace, I noticed in the reflection flight CE732 doubling back before TEARING down the tarmac and LAUNCHING itself into the stratosphere. 'FUCK....that's not coming back.' I dropped my head into my hands, wishing Mum was here for a cuddle and an encouraging word.
 |
| COME BACK!!!! |
After what seemed like a FUCKING eternity Chung moseyed her way back to the counter informing me
Chung: 'YOU MISS FLIGHT!!
Wheats: "NO SHIT, CHUNG!!'
Informing me that Id have to wait for the next flight, 'Fine' I thought anticipating another departure just around the corner.
Wheats: 'Cool' I said, 'whens that?'
'Two days', was not the reply I was expecting nor wanting.
The words 'FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!!!!' crossed my mind..
Resisting the temptation to dig a hole to bury myself in, I quickly snapped out of my self pity and into emergency mode, a state of mind sharpened to an sense of urgency rarely encounter by one M Wheatley. I reached into my bag and fished out the bill from Kim and my previous night on the cans, showing the cab driver 'please take me here', to which he seemed perplexed, I tried the fail proof trick when encountered with someone who does not share the same language of talking slower and louder 'PUH-LEASE' pointing with more vigor 'TAKE ME HEEREE!!'
I felt a slight sense of relief as I made my way back into the hotel foyer, the familiarity of the hotel eased my frazzled state of mind. I placed my bags back on the counter and sheepishly murmured 'can I please book a room for another two nights'. 'Oh your back' quipped the concierge in improved English as if half expecting my return.
I wheeled my baggage to the elevator in which an American joined me..
Yank: 'How you doing?'
Wheats:"Not so good" I replied "Ive just missed my flight'.
Yank: 'Really...so did I',
Wheats:'Really?'.
Yank:'Yep' he replied in a slightly more optomistic tone that expected, before a slight pause and a knowing nod to see if we were sharing the same page.... 'meet you at the bar in 10 minutes?'.
Wheats: 'Better make it five'.
In five minutes flat there were two of the finest looking Tsing Tao's sitting prouder than a honey mooner's stiff one on the counter..
'Don't worry about it dude, this happens all the time.. its part of the Chinese experience' - comforted the yank.
The following hours my education on 'The Chinese experience' was expanded as the yank told me stories of corruption and fornication and that was just in the McDonalds restrooms. He also provided me with the three most important words in the Chinese language.. the only words I needed to get me through the following days.
Mi Hau = Hello
Pejo = Beer
Shai Shai = Thank you.
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