Beijing taxi, dopey driver

One taxi after the next asked us to get out at Lao Xia’s house and refused to take us up to Fragrant Park Hill. By 10.30, we were still standing by the side of the road, with cars pulling over, thinking we might be prostitutes?!

Finally, Lao Xia managed to find a novice, willing to take us to the hotel, but unsure of the route to take. What ensued was a nerve-wracking journey, cold sweat forming at every junction, as we risked being taken out of our way with a driver totally unable to communicate with us (the Chinese being the only people in the world who don’t seem to twig on to sign language, mimics, drawings, etc). With a few wrong turns and some unbelievable homing skills, we made it back.

Dirt market
A great skill: singing with mouth full

From the room, I called Lao Xia to let him know we had arrived. He informed me that his wife and others had said it was totally normal for drivers not to want to go up to Fragrant Hill at night, and that it was in fact company policy to refuse, because of the number of hijackings that occur in the area… ohhhhhh, well that’s alright then!

Other driver stories include the taxi driver that took Asheline to the airport at 5.00 am and came to pick me up at 10.00 am. Between Lao Xia’s home and the airport, he fell asleep five times. Good job I don’t have a quiet voice!

Tienanmen Square, impossible to pass without thinking of the students that got killed.

The best driver however, might have been the one that picked Asheline and I up from the Forbidden City and took us back to Lao Xia’s house. He sang all the way back, with volume on full, and then heartily laughed at us as we tried to get him into the correct section of the compound.