Harbin - Into The Unknown

Travelling on trains in China is not for the faint-hearted. I dreaded the side-to-side jolting of the train whilst attempting the ultimate balancing act of standing up to pee. Being stared at whilst sleeping caused me discomfort. As did waking up to strangers literally leaning against my feet, throwing comments our way as they ate their spicy, garlic infused breakfasts. 

Making our way, pushing and shoving, to our carriage, ignited feelings of anxiety. However, I followed my Debs – a beacon of light at that moment in time. She led the way, resembling a bull in a china shop. Fearless and on a mission. Opening the door to a cabin, we stepped into our own private space. Bunk-beds, a table, a chair and a private loo welcomed us. Paying that higher price had been so worth it. At exactly 21:21 our journey to Heilongjiang Province, in Northern China, began. The railway system in China is known for its punctuality. As the train rolled along the tracks, the city of Beijing slipped by. Millions of lights bid us farewell. A reminder of how vast Beijing is.

Debs served the take-away Vietnamese salad rolls. I brought out the bottle of South African red wine. A necessity when travelling in China. To sip that most palatable liquid in the warmth and privacy of our cabin was all that was desired.

In my packing frenzy I had forgotten to bring the wine opener. The sin of all sins. The marvel of technology was brought forth to save the situation. After all, what would one do without computers and emergency we-chats to family back home for some serious advice. Within minutes, Jono in Beijing had results from quick-action online research on nine ways to open a wine bottle. Without an opener. Karen in South Africa suggested slam it against the wall, followed by spending the rest of the night crying over spilled wine. We wracked our brains. A fellow traveller offered us a key. I looked around the cabin. In deep condemnation of my own stupidity, I found a coat hanger. Wine connoisseurs would cringe at the evil deed performed in desperation. Within minutes, we were savouring the smooth red velvet. 

With outside temperatures a hefty minus 18 degrees Celsius, the barren countryside slipped past us in frozen silence. The peace and contentment we felt provided the healing we both needed. Nobody knew us. Nobody wanted anything from us. The gentle rocking of the train carried us into a state of perfect bliss. The heavy duvets held us captive. Sleep was deep. Interrupted once or twice with the desire to see what was out there. And then to move even deeper under those heavy railway system duvets.

I woke in the wee hours of the morning to a vision which transported me to a world of which I had no experience. Endless miles of nothingness. A solid white blanket of ice shrouding earth. The reality stark and unwelcoming. Yet possessing a magnificent beauty of its own. The trees bare and exposed to extreme elements. Remaining tall and strong. Seemingly defying all odds. The North Eastern regions of China are home to endless miles of forests. Reaching out forever, way into the distance. In all directions. We passed huge stockpiles of wood which stretched on for as far as the naked eye could see. Everything in China extends beyond the normal.

Hamlets dotted against the icy horizon provided respite to the eye. Enormous plastic sheets covered the entire front-side of each house. Drastic measures taken. Anything and everything done to capture that bit of extra warmth. For survival in an unforgiving world of severity. Hope glimmered with each chimney. Gently breathing out the smoke from wood fires within each shelter. I tried to imagine the scenes playing out within those walls. Despite the insane harshness of the environment, it all looked so quaint somehow. I was surprised to see any form of life in the outdoors. One or two vintage  blue Chinese trucks trundled down icy strips of road. Slowly negotiating the danger present. An even deeper sense of gratitude for the warmth and safety of our compartment enveloped me.

As the train approached a very industrial Harbin, my first thoughts were of panic. Were we ready for this adventure which may well involve freezing for two days. It meant leaving the warmth of our safe enclosure. Debbie and I began the dressing saga. Layer upon layer of clothing went onto our bodies. We instantly resembled and felt like round, hot potatoes. 

To be continued ...