Journal: Wrong Bus to Dalian

After my tea-making success in the morning, I decided to visit downtown Dalian in the afternoon. The Economic Development Zone where my university is situated is actually a satellite district of Dalian. Travel to the city centre is via either train or minibus. Maggie suggested bus since it's cheaper, and one of these owner-operated minibuses passes by every 5 minutes. In contrast, the express train leaves only once every 17 minutes. "You might have to wait a long time," said Maggie. That's how often trains run in Perth during peak hour!

After asking for directions at several bus-stops (and not understanding the answers, just walking in the direction that people pointed) I finally found a bus which would take me to Dalian. Or so the conductor claimed. In fact, it was going in the opposite direction, but I guess they were loath to give up a passenger and perhaps in too much of a hurry to attempt to explain this complicated concept to me. Seconds are precious: each time one of these buses slows down, the conductor leaps off, hussles people in, and then leaps on again as the vehicle starts to pull away. As for the style of driving in China, I'll have to tell you about that later, when I'm brave enough to open my eyes and watch!

I was chatting to the driver, and I didn't realise my mistake until we stopped at the terminus and I saw there were no passengers left. Plus, it was lunchtime for them, but they were polite enough to invite me to join them for the meal, and although I had already had some instant noodles at home I was happy to accept. There was a small, cheap restaurant across the road which catered for the minibus workers.

After that we started out for Dalian, a journey of about 40 minutes from end to end. Before I left them, they gave me a mobile phone number, saying that they would be back in Dalian about 5pm and I should catch their minibus again.

I walked around Dalian for a while, breathing exhaust fumes and wondering why I had come. Being older than the Development Zone, the side streets in Dalian are bumpier but the closer you go to the centre of the shopping district, the more modern the buildings are until you reach the massive white "Parkland" shopping complex full of imported goods.

After a couple of phone calls, I was able to hook up with the same minibus for the trip back. They let me sit up the front by the heater. That was their last trip for the day, so I invited them to a restaurant for dinner. Of course, I don't know any restaurants in Dalian so I had to ask them to choose somewhere. "Big or small," they asked, to which I replied "Money is not a problem." (This could have backfired on me, since I wasn't actually sure how much money I had in my wallet, but luckily I was able to cover it). We went to a seafood restaurant for some Dalian-style cuisine. I think there are some Japanese influences, because the first dish was pieces of seafood (such as salmon and shellfish) served raw. There was a green dipping sauce, which I plunged my food into only to discover that it was a watery form of wasabi! La! Hot!