Jinan
We’d be travelling undercover in probably the only bright yellow Mini Cooper in China, so to check the car was fine we took it to the BMW dealership to get it serviced. I’d never been to one before so the whole process was quite a revelation to me – rather than a dodgy workshop where Gaz and Baz check the oil and water before telling you that you need a new sprocket which will cost as much as a new engine the dealership was a huge white tiled warehouse. The car was left in the car park and we were ushered to a desk where a smartly dressed man offered us drinks and went through the servicing options. These agreed we handed over the keys and were given a mystery voucher and told to wait upstairs for 5 hours, which sounded exceedingly dull.
Upstairs, the waiting room was the better than most business class airport lounges I’ve been in around the world (although Virgin Atlantic at Heathrow is still the best by far). Three young ladies showed us all the facilities, including drinks and snacks, a wide range of magazines (although in Chinese as you’d expect), a range of large screen TV’s showing recent movie releases, a number of internet terminals and a fast Wi-Fi connection. In one corner were a number of first class style airline seats, where you could lay flat and get some sleep. To make you drowsy the other corner of the room was walled off and inside it was possible to get free massages and showers.
The mystery voucher turned out to be for lunch in the workers canteen. Whilst this area was somewhat less luxurious, the food was decent and the walk there was over a number of walkways over the servicing area so it was possible to see the cars progressing through the various testing bays. The 5 hours zipped by quickly and we went downstairs to find the car freshly detailed and washed, and thankfully with no problems.
Servicing done we drove over to the electronics area of Beijing, similar to Akihabara in Tokyo or Tottenham Court Road in London. Here all the small electronics retailers huddle together in a series of huge department stores, but unlike Selfridges or Harvey Nichols these have no overall design or planning. Everywhere you look electrical equipment is being pulled to pieces and spread all over the desks, counters and floors before being expertly reassembled, but somehow faster, stronger and sharper.
I was after a new camera to replace mine that hadn’t fared too well in the desert drive from Chile to Bolivia. Despite being a reasonable Olympus fan, the last three waterproof µ8000 cameras have all needed returning after barely being lightdrizzleproof. I probably should have bought a Canon Ixus after being impressed with everyone else’s, but a brand new Samsung model caught my eye and the 15x zoom sold it. The price was pretty good despite it being one of the only cameras in the shop made in Korea rather than China, but the real joy was all the little extras. Without even asking they gave me a decent case, put a protection strip over the rear screen, and on seeing I was currently using MicroSD cards ran off and came back with a standard SD card adapter they’d rapidly ‘sourced’ from a competitor, all at no extra cost.
The drive itself was long and uneventful, but being an incompetent driver I was more there for navigation, morale and to keep the cold drinks flowing. The JingHai motorway winds all the way from Beijing to Shanghai and among others has large signs warning of motorway collisions featuring two ducks. A duck is slang for a male prostitute, and the sign text literally translates as ‘No Rear Ending’.
The first night we stopped in Jinan, a large town where we managed to pick the only hotel undergoing major renovation work. We were on the 23rd floor which was disconcerting as the whole building shook with the vibration of the building work going on in the lobby, but it was the only place far enough from the noise to even attempt some sleep.
The local cuisine is intentionally remarkably bland and even a decent restaurant struggled to make fatty pork taste appetising without any spices.
Hungry after the previous night’s meal we pulled in at a truck stop to grab lunch in another awful canteen. Still hungry I went to the snack shop downstairs buy some meat jerky, which seems popular here. Not tempted by the donkey jerky gift pack I settled on spicy beef, which may well just have been dried chillies given quite how spicy it was.
The second night we stopped in Huainan, a small town that is surrounded by a huge swathe of construction work. Unlike Jinan, here a Laowai (foreigner) was big news and people stopped in the street to stare open mouthed as we walked around looking for dinner. Turning up a street of hole-in-the-wall restaurants the stares turned to cat-calls at they realised they might get a Laowai sitting in their doorway. The rooms all looked the same so we sat in the one that had the least smelly barbeque opposite and ordered some chicken, noodles and unidentifiable green vegetables. The noodles and greens were both tasty and fresh, but not as fresh as the small young chicken which died especially for us. I would feel bad, but none of it went to waste as the whole bird got chopped up and stir-fried, then the head sat in the serving bowl looking at me accusingly throughout the meal.
The restaurant suddenly became the most popular place for the town’s younger kids to hang out, and they sat and watched us eating – I’m getting quite nifty with chopsticks, more out of necessity than anything, but more of that at a later date – until China’s Got Talent came on TV and we were old news.
Breakfast in the hotel looked like it’d been made the month before so we went to the nearest restaurant which happened to be a steamed bun factory. The workers sat and watched as we devoured more of the freshly cooked light little pork buns than was strictly decent, before settling up the bill for all of 60p ($1).
The remainder of the drive to Shanghai was considerably quieter than the previous days, with the only traffic on the roads being all the coaches ferrying country folk to the big city and the Expo waiting within.
