Untamed Traveler

I’m in Hong Kong now, having arrived from Sri Lanka late last night. I stayed at the W Hotel, a veritable oasis,  much needed for the contrast that awaits me over the next week while in mainland China.

The morning preparation is always the same. I set my alarm for 6 am but invariably awake at 3 am, bright-eyed and ready to go.  A thousand thoughts run through my mind as I try to get back to sleep but my body clock is still 12 hours behind. I get up after an hour of tossing and turning.

I boil water for instant coffee and I turn on my laptop. This will be the first of several cups of coffee. This is travel day and we need to make sure things happen at the hotel vs on the road. Okay people… the raw truth is “good travel” is about “shit management.” This is another learned behavior… squatting over a rancid smelling porcelain hole in the ground at some, excuse the term, shitty factory… is not an experience you want.

The internet doesn’t work on my browser. I open three different browsers, turn my computer off and on… try to find instructions in the hotel’s literature. I know that I need to log on, but I can’t determine where. After several attempts, it just begins to work. I check my email, Facebook, my phone calls… I iron my clothing for the day.

My shower is delayed by an inability to get hot water. The knobs are different from we’re accustomed to…. I try the extremes and it still doesn’t work. I check the sink’s hot water and it works perfectly.  I let it run and in three minutes the water becomes too hot to touch.

I orchestrate leaving precisely at 8 am. I know this drill well and life has taught me to arrive at the airport early. Long ago, I decided that the stress of missing a flight isn’t worth being late.  I pack and then examine and re-examine my room with a Rain Man like focus, making sure I have everything. I do it again, and then again just before leaving.

I checkout and head for the train to the airport. The train is fantastic, traveling direct from my hotel complex to the airport for $90HK… about $12 US. Part of my planning requires that I have the money for train tickets in HK$. I have a secret place in my den at home with currency from many places… India, Bangladesh, Brittain, Europe, China, Mexico… all the places I might go next… now it includes Sri Lanka. I feel a bit like James Bond when I select my currencies before each trip.

The train arrives at the airport. The exit to the right is terminal 2, to the left is terminal 1… which one? (I think) I’ve done this many times but frankly I get confused… is it terminal 1 here or in Beijing? I exit left, walk past the check-in area and approach the emigration counter. I filled out my departure card at the hotel in the wee morning hours.

I queue up in one of the many the customs checkpoint lines. I was never good at choosing the fast line and the same is true here. I’m next up and don’t dare passed the yellow line on the floor before being motioned to advance. The customs police agent stamps the person’s passport in front of me and motions for me to approach. I always have my passport, visa page and departure card open so that they don’t have to flip through the many pages of my passport to find my visa.

The agent takes my passport and scans it. He waits for something to show up on his monitor. He looks at the passport, flips through the pages, and looks at me. I always have the fear that I will be told to step aside. If that happens, he’ll phone someone for a runner who will appear at the station in about 10 seconds. He will give the junior officer my passport with a piece of paper inserted into it. The runner will disappear behind the station. I will wait for 10 minutes, while other travelers are processed in front of me. During that 10 minutes… I imagine the potential disruptive scenarios that may follow. Thankfully, the runner returns and gives the agent my passport and that piece of paper. I approach the counter again and the agent looks at me, looks at his monitor, looks at the passport and then picks up his inked stamp… a good sign. I’m through.

There are people everywhere… thousands of people. Sometime is seems as if I’ve awoken in a parallel universe where everything is slightly skewed. I notice one girl wearing a coat with a round pink patch with a black skull and crossbones as the logo… a wierd “Mary Kay joins Hells Angels” combination that is displayed as fashion. Another man’s shirt is embroidered with the name “Wolfskin” in script with a paw print. These fashion twists are everywhere except in my frame of reference.

Now I am challenged with going through security… which is like our TSA on steriods.

I remove my shoes, my belt, my computer, my extra phone batteries, my electric cords.. and place them in baskets on the xray belt. I’m motioned to walk through the scanner and predictably the alarm triggers loudly… as it does every single time I go through a scanner in Asia! I do not have a metal plate in my head, coins in my pocket… I have nothing metalic but the iron in my diet. I’m directed to a little rubber mat with two yellow footprints where I place my feet. I instinctively hold my arms out and then I’m subjected to a thorough pat-down… one so comprehensive that I half expect to be charged for it!

I remember the time in central China where security found a butter knife in my carryon. I thought I was headed to Chinese prison for that one… but that’s another story.

I put all my stuff back into my bag and I search out a departure monitor to see which gate I should go to. A gate is not yet assigned.

I look at my watch and figure that I have time for a quick breakfast at the United Club, a benefit of frequent travel… as long as the gate assigment isn’t in the 500 range. See, Gate 566 requires a tram ride, a walk of maybe a quarter mile, then a bus…. it can take a half hour to get to Gate 566. If, however, it’s Gate 66… then it takes 2 minutes.

I navigate to the lounge…. down two escalators, a tram ride, up two escalators… people everywhere. Most of them stare at their phones… they don’t actually interact with each other in person. They are mezmerized by something in their phones.

There is no personal space here. I’m reminded of a question my doctor asked me as I was being treated for bacterial pneumonia after a China trip a couple months ago. “Were you around anyone sick?” he asked. OMG… I’m around thousands of people every single day. During any trip here, I’m coughed on, sneezed at, bumped and nudged. I’m served food, the origin of which is unclear… as are the standards of preparation. If you get caught up in worrying about this shit… you’ll stress yourself into the funny farm… so I go with the flow.

En route to the lounge, I scan the many shops in search of a brown belt. Two strands of my woven leather belt broke and I need a replacement. After passing twenty or so shops, I see belts! I enter the store and immediately the young female clerk is a foot away from me. I touch a belt and she says “30% off today.” She keys numbers into a hand held calculator and shows me. Not being able to do the conversion, I respond “How much in US$?” She keys a few more strokes and shows me the display. She says “Two hundred twenty one dollars.” I say with a bit of surprise: “In US?” She nods, to which I respond “I don’t need a belt… have you people never heard of TJ Maxx?”  I walked away… my broken brown belt still on my waist.

As I enter the United Club, I scan the departure monitor and see Gate 544! I look at my watch and turn around and immediately head for Gate 544. I go down two escalators, take the tram, walk maybe a quarter mile, then take a bus and a half hour later I’m at Gate 544.

There aren’t many people at Gate 544. The gate should be full because it’s always a full flight. I recheck the flight number on my boarding pass… I look at the monitor. I’m at the right gate, which should start boarding any minute. There’s a delay. The gate agent makes an announcement in Chinese. I look at the other passengers, hoping to read their reaction… there is none. 15 minutes pass, there is no jet at the gate. More time passes, another annoucement and still no reaction. Now the flight is late and there is still no jet at the gate. I recheck my boarding pass and recheck the monitor.

I approach the gate agents and ask if the flight is late. They look at each other as if I’m speaking a foreign language… oh… I am speaking a foreign language. They say something in Chinese. I point to my watch hoping sign language will work. The young man responds verbally… I don’t understand. The female agent makes an announcement and everyone at the gate gets up and leaves!  I ask again and note on the monitor behind the agent that the new gate is now 64. I reverse my course, take the bus, walk a quarter mile, take the tram, up two escalators, past the $221 belt shop… to Gate 64. I wasted no time at all yet when I arrive, most of the boarding is complete. How does that even happen?

This is the reality of travel…  I can’t wait to hit a TJ Maxx when I get home….