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We stopped at KFC for an extended break and to enjoy
a good meal. I made sure that a large Coca-Cola was my beverage—I
needed a boost from the caffeine in it for my sore feet! Returning
to walking, Katarina and Enrique showed what strong pedestrians they
are, carrying more and slowing to my pace. It took us a bit longer
to reach room 315, where I rested from my exertion while they used
the computers and internet connection below.
I wasn't totally wiped out for the night, though. I
had read in LP about how we ought not miss the 2,000-year-old
acrobatic show. We had passed their stage the previous night when we
took the long way around to our hostel from the airport-to-downtown
bus. When we had entered the hostel an hour ago, I saw a sign-up
sheet on the bulletin board for it, and added our names.
The performance of the Beijing Chao Yang Theater
Acrobatics World was to begin a (19:00), and the shuttle to it was
run by our GWAC friend and guide, Joseph. He dropped us, and the
others, in front, where we bought tickets from the box office.
Inside, we sat on the balcony with a good view, but the place was
packed. I presume the fire code was being adhered to because I
didn't see any aisle-sitters or doubling up in the seats.
What we did see, when the performers came on stage,
was fantastic. I've been to circuses in the states and have seen
outstanding performances, but they paled in comparison to the
Chinese. I couldn't imagine how long and hard they must practice to
accomplish their stunts. What was even more amazing was that lack of
safety nets. I can only guess that they use some kind of safety
devices when developing their routines to perfection. After the
show, we went into the gift shop, extremely wound-up and excited,
buying a CD, ties, and other small items. This time, I did remember
to bargain, but, even though I could have gotten a better price, I
didn't want to. It was my way of contributing to the highly
hazardous job of the performers.
We skipped our way back to 315 in the hostel,
thrilled by the acrobats and the anticipation of tomorrow,
when we would leave on the international train to Moscow. We wrapped
up our final night in Beijing by carefully repacking our bags. I
inserted the green net bag, which held our water, inside a large,
black plastic garbage bag along with the dehydrated food. We aligned
the three backpacks and the black food bag on one rack for easy
pick-up in the morning. We each got into our bunks for sleep. In
fact, each of us had some difficulty going to sleep—we were excited
to be getting underway within half a dozen hours.
Sleep did eventually overtake our exhausted bodies.
As always, I was the first to wake and I crept outside to check the
guard's timepiece, afraid that I'd overslept. I was relieved to find
that it was barely (05:00), and planned to wake the other two up
within a half-hour. I went back to 315 and was pleasantly surprise
to see that both Katarena and Enrique were already up and in the
bathrooms. They returned shortly, dressed and ready to go. Today was
the seventh of July, and we were going to start returning to the
West from the Eastern-most point of our odyssey. Geographically, we
were at the halfway point.
We hated waiting until (06:00) when the kitchen
opened, and, in fact, did not wait. We went by the check-out desk,
left our key in a box, carrying for the first time in a week,
everything we owned on our backs and in our laden-jackets. I carried
a lightened net bag with fewer liters of water, too. We walked
around the hotel to a taxi-stand and attempted to negotiate a
quick-trip to the train station, but the taxistos weren't
interested. (It reminded me of some Colombianos, who do nothing
until they had had their tinto!) My headband returned, making me
ever so slightly aware of it. They did, however, hail a cab from the
street, who accepted us, which caused an ever so slight reduction in
my headband tightness. Hurriedly piling our consolidated goods into
the trunk of an excruciatingly small cab, we sat in the same pattern
we as we had in Xi'an, me in front, them in back.
Our trip was quick—many motor vehicles were not out
that early—and we arrived at the Beijing Railway Station by (06:27).
I became a bit concerned, my headband tightening a bit more, because
the driver was unable to get closer than the main road. We solved
the problem by immediately getting out, retrieving all our worldly
goods from the trunk and, not bothering with the underpass, we
virtually ran across the road as some cars swerved to miss us. We
helped each other across a low fence, skirted around another, and
entered the main section of the station.
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