B2) Arriving to Beijin China

 

It’s almost midnight when we arrive in Beijing. I exit the aircraft and get hit by a wall of cold. I mean freezing cold. It’s difficult to believe this is normal. The inside of the airport is so cold you could make ice cubes. All the vendors are shut down and the place is quiet as a morgue and freezing cold. All I want to do is find a place to lay down and sleep, a warm place. I’ll snuggle up to my backpack and take a nap while waiting for my next flight.

First order of business is getting my passport stamped and getting to the right spot for my next flight. Where do I go for customs, which line? Where’s the gate for my next flight? What line should I get in? I ask someone with a uniform and he points to line #2. The line moves like molasses. Slow. Eventually I get to the official and he says no, wrong line. Go to line #4. I’m tired, I’m in pain, frustrated and cranky. Eventually they get it right and I get processed and pointed in the right direction. I/we end up in a warmer part of the airport. This is a relief.

Now I look for a place to lay down and take a nap. As soon as I find one and lay down I begin to worry about falling asleep and missing my flight. Escaping stress and anxiety seems a difficult task not to mention getting rid of one of the passengers from the flight. He seems intent of following me around and I have no tolerance for that. Not looking for a travel buddy. He’s weird and awkward and I want him gone. I wonder how he would react if I began punching him in the face over and over again. --- whew. I am in pain. I am tired and cranky.

My fucking leg is throbbing. I count my pulse through the throbbing in my leg. 85 beats per minute. That's high. It's normally around 60, maybe 70.

My initial plan was to find a swimming pool, maybe something in a hotel nearby. I would use my seven hour layover to go for a swim and get a massage. That was fanciful thinking.   

I find a place to lay down. As I lay there I extend my right hand up and reach to the heavens. I have nothing to ask for from the Universe. I have no real needs at this time, at least not the kind of needs one calls upon for from the Universe. All I suppose I'm looking for is the connection and I remind the Universe I'm still here if the Universe needs something from me.

The hours drag on but eventually the ticket counter opens and I’m able to get my boarding pass for the next flight. I find my way to the gate. By the time I get to that gate I have 2.5 hours before boarding begins. I find a seat and try to get comfortable, an impossibility at this point. A family of Russians take the seat directly across from me. I guess the language they are speaking to be Russian. The father is wearing a tshirt with the word “Russian” across the top. I point to his shirt, then to him and ask “Russian”? He nods but it’s an unpleasant nod. Ok, not the friendliest of Russians, that’s for sure. He’s not friendly and he stinks to high heaven. Fat, slothful looking and smelly. Smelly stinking Russian.

I read on several blogs that Russians like to vacation in Thailand. It’s affordable for them.