
Amtrak it ain't.
On a budget, with time to spare and feeling guilty about my carbon footprint, I decided to brave the train from Shanghai to Kunming. A soft-sleeper (equivalent to first class) wasn't any less expensive than the plane, so I opted for the hard sleeper class - three bunks to a wall, two walls to a "nook." It was definitely an adventure: following is a rundown of the 42 hours it took to get to Kunming....
4 p.m. Almost as soon as I take my pack off in Shanghai's southern train station's "waiting lounge," people start rushing out the door; I follow. I find my bunk and set about securing a spot on a shelf for my pack. I nod hello to the five other passengers sharing my area. Across from the beds are two seats that fold down from the wall; the only real place to sit are on these and the bottom bunks, since the middle and upper berths don't have enough headroom. There are no other Westerners and no one around me speaks English.
6 p.m. I watch the Shanghai outer limits roll by. At first I thought the window was tinted gray, so dark was the sky. It was lightly raining and the pollution left the air hazy. Along the tracks stretched rows and rows of vegetable patches with all kinds of greens. At first I couldn't understand why the patches were rectangles instead of squares, like on American farms, until I realized that these were developed on a scale designed for human labor, not machinery.
7 p.m. There doesn't seem to be any bottled water for sale on board. Boiling water is readily available, and passengers all have plastic containers that they fill and let chill. I only have one small disposable bottle, and am getting thirsty. I eat a protein bar left over from my flights and a cup of instant noodles. People are smoking, but in between cars so it's not too bad. Also, the cell phone noise and pop music seem mild compared to what I've expected.
8 p.m. I brave the squat toilet, and climb into bed. The bunks are narrow, with guard rails, so it's impossible to curl up. There's a tiny hook where I hang my glasses, headlamp, and, much later, ear plugs. The fluorescent lighting is garish and I throw my sweatshirt over my eyes. The youth in the next nook over are having a party, or so it sounds. I fall asleep to my iPod playing Elvis Perkins.