Getting to Huangshan . . .
Before I flew to Huangshan, I tried to make arrangements for a place to stay the first night, since I was going to be getting in around 9 PM. I found a hostel and called to see if I could make a reservation. The guy spoke a teeny bit of English but it was minimal and my Chinese was certainly not enough to get across what I needed to. By the time we finished speaking I was under the impression someone would pick me up at the airport when I got there. He never asked my name or anything, but I guess he figured it would be easy to spot a white girl in a sea of Chinese tourists.
The flight was mostly painless, just a little turbulence as usual. When I got off the plane the guy found me pretty easily and took me to his van. This was all really sketchy as it was 9 PM, I was tired and there were three other people in the van, all people who worked at the hostel I imagine. How many people does it take to pick someone up from the airport?
The website for the hostel said that it is 6 kilometers from the airport . . . 6 kilometers my bum . . . I think it was more like 60, maybe even more than that. It was really dark and took us over an hour on curvy mountain roads (that we were speeding around no less). Throughout the ride, the owner of the hostel kept asking me questions on how to say words in English. It was like a private tutor session in the van. And like many Chinese people I have noticed, he giggled after everything he said in English. I wonder if it is some nervous reaction. I taught him how to say "airplane" and "airport," but he kept calling it an "airplane port."
We finally arrived at the hostel and I paid 50 kuai ($6.25) for a single bedroom with a bathroom . . . not bad. Unfortunately the water faucet was not working, so I had to use the shower head whenever I wanted to wash my hands or brush my teeth. The room was entirely blue, from the walls to the blankets on the bed. It was a little strange, but very comfortable. The owner (I never got his name), told me to be ready by 6 AM so I could catch a bus to the base of the mountain.
The flight was mostly painless, just a little turbulence as usual. When I got off the plane the guy found me pretty easily and took me to his van. This was all really sketchy as it was 9 PM, I was tired and there were three other people in the van, all people who worked at the hostel I imagine. How many people does it take to pick someone up from the airport?
The website for the hostel said that it is 6 kilometers from the airport . . . 6 kilometers my bum . . . I think it was more like 60, maybe even more than that. It was really dark and took us over an hour on curvy mountain roads (that we were speeding around no less). Throughout the ride, the owner of the hostel kept asking me questions on how to say words in English. It was like a private tutor session in the van. And like many Chinese people I have noticed, he giggled after everything he said in English. I wonder if it is some nervous reaction. I taught him how to say "airplane" and "airport," but he kept calling it an "airplane port."
We finally arrived at the hostel and I paid 50 kuai ($6.25) for a single bedroom with a bathroom . . . not bad. Unfortunately the water faucet was not working, so I had to use the shower head whenever I wanted to wash my hands or brush my teeth. The room was entirely blue, from the walls to the blankets on the bed. It was a little strange, but very comfortable. The owner (I never got his name), told me to be ready by 6 AM so I could catch a bus to the base of the mountain.
posted by Ramune at
5/19/2006 01:38:00 PM
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