Sleeping Cars on China’s Railways
24 Hours on a Train in China: Share a Berth with Native Travelers
Try a 24-hour train ride on one of China's Iron Horses. Tuck in close with travelers all day and all night. Sleeping berths are sold out quickly on China's railways.
Travelers must prepare themselves for this type of journey. From the time the ticket is purchased at the station, till arriving at the final destination, the ride is nothing like the New York to Miami special. It doesn't matter in which direction the train is heading, North, South, East or West - the rides the thing.
One would think they're giving away free tickets, as crowded as train stations are in China. Some carry a quick knap sack on their back and some carry every pot and pan they own. As a foreigner, one might as well be on another planet. Train stations can get a little rough in many ways. Travelers should be alert and vigilant from the time they enter the station, until the journey is over.
Once a traveler has purchased a ticket, it's a chase to the barricades required at all gates. As attendants wait the signal to unlock and roll back the steel, passengers chomp at the bit. It's a mad dash once the gate is open. In country stations, people scramble in between and under cars, even sliding under the belly of the train - all the seats are grabbed in less than 5 minutes. Aisles are filled with squatters. Climb aboard the sleeping carriage. Everyone's excitedly looking for their berth. The middle bunks the best - up and down, in and out very easily, a good view of inside the berth, the aisle and the window. No doors or walls, everything's open except for a partition separating the berths. If a traveler has the top bunk, it's like being on a seven foot tall couch for 24 hours.
A neatly rolled-up blanket and pillow, still warm from a recently disembarked passenger, introduces the journey ahead. Someone opens a window and six people are politely, awkwardly claiming a little area on the table under the window. Instant noodles, bottles of water, dried fish, fruit, the table vanishes. The dining-car food is famous for being hideous. The selection from the push-car matron is barely a notch up for hungry travelers.
When the engineer is in the mood, the train will move. Foreigners sit on their bunks and watch the station pass while the locals sit on their bunks watching the foreigners. Within half an hour, people are pouring hot water on instant noodles and the car is alive with chatter. Eventually, someone will wonder into the stall and if they know a sentence or two of English, it's an hour or two of instruction. Chinese love to practice their English with native speakers. Soon, children are everywhere. Commanding the gangway and timidly edging close to a foreigner's bunk. In less than 3 minutes photos come out of hiding, showing where they've been or study-books appear from behind their back, asking for the correct pronunciation.
As the train moves on, outside, banana plantations and fish ponds wait for no one and keep moving. Railway staff in blue suits, keys in hand, continuously walk the aisle. A constable is seen occasionally strolling down the gangway. Their presence on a train is renowned in China for the feeling of safety echoed by all native riders.
It's a Spartan environment, but all the inconveniences and inadequacies, present no problem. It's a great way to experience people, close quarters, forced cohabitation. And that's half of what the ride is all about. The other half is sticking one's head out the window at 3 o'clock in the morning as the train clips down the track at a race horse's pace, flying through the countryside, barely making out the ridgelines of mountains, or the dark blankets of cultivated crops. Dim flickering lights in the distance feed one's imagination all night long.
Everyone's up early, slowly preparing for the station which is still 3 hours away. Soon, the last thermos of hot water is poured on instant noodles. Forty-five minutes from the station, the relaxed atmosphere changes to serious anticipation. As the train pulls into the station, all the latrines are locked. It's best to sit on a bunk and let everyone exit. Outside the window, it's a mass exodus. Eventually, an attendant will approach and assist in disembarking.
Passengers move quickly along the platform and down exit stairs. Through long tunnels they march,up and down more stairs and tunnels, until finally opening up into a great hall. All riders must have a ticket stub or else pay the full fare. In the terminal, a multitude of travelers await their turn for 24 hours on China's rails.
