An unscheduled departure...

Our little Nikon Coolpix has been such a great camera and it takes such clean, clear pics that we both got a bit dramatic (okay, we freaked out!) as we sat among our luggage in a KFC at 6am and realized it was gone!

Yesterday we decided not to pass up the opportunity to see the Terra Cotta Warriors, which meant packing up, checking out, then another long train ride. This trip from Beijing to Xi'an (which is in the middle of China!) is our farthest destination yet. The ride was pretty comfortable, we both had bottom bunks (they call them hard sleepers over here), snacks for the all-night ride, and ended up watching Slumdog Millionaire (loved it!) and getting a few fitful hours of sleep.

In our morning stupor we trekked over to a KFC to regroup. I went to grab a pick of a Chinese breakfast (noodles!) and came up empty handed. We assessed that we must have dropped the camera between our bunks and although Jenn is the Queen of last-minute-room-checks, we must have missed it. I headed quickly back to the station across the street and hit the exit instead of going through the through the masses, pleaded my way back to the loading platform, found our original train after only two wrong tries and a lot of begging; playing the desperate American seems to work miracles over here - especially if it is sincere! I found our original car but nobody was getting on or off so all the doors were locked. I looked around and got even bolder and asked a Red Army soldier to bang on a window for me and like magic the door opened and I hopped on and made my way swiftly to our bunks.

Two women had just finished cleaning our car and after I explained in sign language what I needed, they stopped what they were doing and helped me search top to bottom - but alas, no camera. Damn! They chatted in friendly Mandarin as we all searched and just as I stood up in resignation, they began yelling and pointing and waving their hands out the window - I didn't realize it but the train was leaving the station! Uh, oh!

They saw the look of panic in my face so one of the ladies grabbed me and we trotted towards the front, hopping through car after car, but I heard some screaming behind us and turned to see the other cleaning lady running towards us with my camera in her hands! I thanked her profusely, turned back and frantically continued heading to the front thinking to myself, "Could I possibly jump if someone opened a door for me?"

As we ran we picked up curious stragglers on the way too so by the time we stopped in the food car we had four other folks with us all wanting to help. A train official listened as she explained the situation and he smiled, shrugged his shoulders, and politely motioned for me to sit down. Everyone looked at me to see my reaction but knowing this is all part of the adventure, I just smiled, and sighed, and sat. In sign language he tried to reassure me and after a while I understood that the train would be stopping at the next station in about fifteen minutes, and that was as good as I was going to get. All I could do was wait and hope that Jennifer wasn't freaking out even more than I was. No phone, no idea where I was now, etc...

True to his word, the train did finally stop in about fifteen minutes. But as I found myself looking out the window wondering which side to exit on, I was looking into a pitch black train yard - not a well-lit train station. I walked back a few cars and the women who helped me the first time found me again and used a special key to unlock and door and I stuck my head out - nothing but ice cold air in my face, an old steel train in front of me, and a three foot drop at my feet. In an instant I felt like a hobo on an adventure, and I was willing to jump out and take my chances, but the woman who now had become my sherpa took my elbow and motioned for me to wait. She returned within seconds donning a pair of gloves, then pushed past me and I watched her hop out the door into the darkness. I jumped out behind her, we each bundled up and I followed her towards the front of our train.

I looked around and could see our train, another train right next to us that didn't appear to be operational, and the occasional sheen from a steel railroad track glistening under the Chinese moonlight. I followed her all the way to the front amazed at how sincerely caring these people are, then we took a hard left and began hopping over rows and rows of tracks. We plodded along, sometimes glancing over at each other and laughing outloud. Suddenly, we stopped and waited as a huge locomotive passed in front of us, it's powerful beam cutting through the darkness like a white knife. It lit up our faces for an instant as we waited, then we simply continued on towards wherever she was taking me.

We climbed over more tracks until we eventually had trekked across the entire rail yard! I felt relieved that we weren't killed and we both began to chuckle some more as we continued walking. I never felt for an instant that she didn't know exactly where she was going but I looked around and saw no sign of humanity whatsoever, not even darkened shacks or fires in barrels, nothing at all. Finally, I got a glimpse of a small light ahead in the distance. A small building was lit with a single bulb - it wasn't a station, it was a small brick structure but as luck would have it, there was a taxi with it's motor running and lights on that had just dropped someone off. My sherpa flagged him down, explained the situation, and within seconds I had a ride out of the train yard. She didn't flinch as I gave her a huge hug (the Chinese don't hug when they meet, or leave, but I just couldn't help myself), she just smiled and waved and walked back the way we came.

I sat back and tried to relax as the taxi drove slowly through dark streets, down into what felt like tunnels and small alley ways. I remembered that Xi'an is hillsides and mountains and the wall surrounding the city is still intact, but I wasn't prepared for the security gate. Well, it is China afterall. We were stopped by an armed guard at a gate. Our headlights glared ahead as the driver got out, gestured for several minutes, motioned for me to show myself and again, as luck would have it, the guard begrudgingly opened a gate and waved us through. I have no idea where we were or why we were locked in, but within fifteen minutes I was walking back into the KFC with camera in hand, and quite a story to tell Jennifer.

I even managed to snap a picture of the lady who found my camera (will put that up as soon as I get my own computer up on the net)!

Next in Xi'an, the Terra Cotta Warriors!