The other week my company saw fit to send me to Beijing on business. Unfortunately this doesn't mean they flew me in business class - I got to make the flight in economy, between two other guys. Ah yes, I have to lose the window seat every now and then to be reminded that no, I still have not learned how to sleep sitting up. I did have a brief layover in Korea due to being bumped off my original, direct flight, which was interesting. Actually, not really: the Seol airport has exactly the same duty free shops and restaurants as every other airport in the known world. Well, at least the part of the world known by Ben.

 

I arrived in Beijing eight hours after my originally scheduled arrival in enough of a haze to miss the driver I had been so careful to arrange. So I took a taxi. As I got in, I realized this could be the first time in my life I couldn't communicate with someone at all. Zero. I was totally at the mercy of the taxi driver and the few fuzzy Chinese characters I'd printed, which showed the name of my hotel. "Yes", "no", "left", "right", "How YOU doin'?" - nothing would work on a taxi driver with absolutely no exposure to any Western language. Fortunately we arrived at the hotel, evidently with no confusion on the part of the driver.

 

Which brings me to Chinese taxis. This was an experience I must admit I was anticipating with a bit of trepidation. I'd heard the horror stories - drivers who couldn't drive, spoke no English whatsoever, viewed a ride as a great opportunity to cheat Western tourists, and most importantly had talents for strange smells and a penchant for spitting. This image couldn't be further from the truth. I took many taxis while I was in Beijing - usually four per day - and every single taxi was clean. And stink free. And I never heard a driver hock a lugey. I'm pretty sure they never ripped me off. I think this may be attributable to two policies enforced by the government: each taxi has an automatic receipt calculator/printer, and the price for just getting into the taxi is pretty steep by their standards. They make more money by picking up a new client and going one block than by driving in circles for half an hour. I did, however, have one driver (yes, it was a woman :-) who seemed to be driving for the first time and with whom I honestly feared for my life. And I did have another who seemed to be quite insane, muttering to himself and other drivers in a high-pitched voice throughout the 20-minute ride. Of all my taxi drivers, only one made any effort at English, which was kind of surprising with the Olympics so close. Local foreigners seem to get around with a book (like a photo album) full of business cards - they simply flip to the card of the business they want to go to and point. All in all I was quite impressed with the taxis - ubiquitous, cheap, friendly, clean; everything you're looking for. And I really enjoyed the ones with the cages around the driver :-)

 

Well I think I'll stop here for today. I'm old and tired and my writing is getting a bit... strange. I'll try to get back to it tomorrow...