Flying isn’t like other modes of transportation as it involves substantially more preparation and security, particularly in the airport. It is said if you’re going to travel, do so on the ground. Well, my new job has me taking trains and planes quite bit so I figured I’d keep track of what happened on one particularly trip. This trip happens to be between Beijing and Shenyang.
(Originally written November 2018.)
***
You have a few options to get to the Beijing International Airport: taxi, bus, or airport express. I typically take the Airport Express because it’s quicker and much more certain than taxi and bus due to congestion problems on the road. Accidents and general busy-ness can turn a seemingly relaxing taxi journey into a gripping “Am I going to make it?” experience.
But even then, although you can avoid the traffic jam, you then get squeezed into the people jam that makes up the Beijing subway system, no matter what time of day you venture underground. And that rings true for Line 10, one of the busiest lines in the system, which intersects with the Airport Express at Sanyuanqiao. Today was no different. Except for the fact that it is becoming cold season.
A lady sneezed and let didn’t cover up so you can imagine where that all went. Though I had nothing but muffled curse words for her and a very animated taking out of a tissue and wiping of my exposed arm, she was made lucky by the fact that I had decided not to do laundry and, as a result, was wearing a pair of pants that had not been washed in a couple of weeks. I couldn’t see anything goopy or wet but there was that unsettling feeling that I had missed something, and this particularly bothered me at the start of my trip. If it was at the end I wouldn’t be so bothered because I’d know I’d be back at home soon enough and could change clothes. Throwing the tissue on the ground in protestation, I went back to swearing under my breath and trying to read something on my phone.
We arrive at T3 first, wait for a mass of people to disembark and another mass to get on, and then proceed to T2. I actually got to the airport earlier than usual with a full forty minutes until my proper boarding time, something that seems late but, given the amount work trips I take, is still pretty early. In typical airport fashion, the airlines suggest you get to the airport 2-3 hours before departure. However, if you abide by the unwritten laws of travel for work purposes (“carry-on only”), then you can skip the check-in desk, check in through the airline’s APP and download an electronic boarding pass and, since you don’t have much in your suitcase that would be a cause for concern, you can usually breeze through security. Forty minutes might not be enough time to sit down for a meal, but at least you can grab a bite to eat or, at least, walk a leisurely pace to your boarding gate. Beside, the other aspect of travelling through Beijing’s airport is that you will often be delayed, if not before boarding, then after you’ve boarded the plane.
Given the number of passengers that pass through Beijing Capital International Airport (some 100 million travellers pass through the airport per year, as of 2018), you’d think that security would be a nightmare. But it actually isn’t.
Although airport security is never fun, China makes it a little bit easier by processing a lot of information about its travellers before they even have to remove the liquids. Unlike many other airports wherein there is no ID check prior to going through security, Beijing insists upon it, and this is only after you’ve scanned your boarding pass to get through to the secure area. The ID check is a simple affair, involving handing over your passport and boarding pass (electronic or paper), taking a photo, and then getting in line to remove everything you’ve already packed. Since I’m a foreigner working in China, they have pretty much already profiled me upon issuance of my work visa. In other words, there isn’t too much they don’t already know about me.
“Laptop? Camera?” They ask.
“Of course! Many!” I reply.
And it’s true. A laptop, a GoPro, a cell phone, sometimes a drone, many batteries and a bag full of liquids means I need at least 2 or 3 bins to put all my things through. Everything is compartmentalized so it’s easy to remove and fits nicely together like a jagged puzzle. They ask about the foot powder I have, I say it’s dry and not a liquid and that seems good enough. The problem is that it is in a 113g bottle but not full. Since it’s a dry good, they let it pass. (It’s Gold Bond, despite what’s been in the news about the product, it still works, though I’ve since opted for a corn starch instead.)
All in all, it doesn’t take more than 10-15 minutes to pass through security. Given the number of people, security is quick and efficient.
Once through security it’s time to find something to eat. “Never get on a plane hungry” my Dad always said, and this is where T2 fails me: the food options aren’t as good as the international T3 terminal. I usually look forward to a small sandwich shop that also has good brownies but it’s on this trip that I see it’s been closed and in its place is the construction boards advertising the next tenant, some other cafe. I try to think of the name of the shop but I honestly can’t remember. I liked it because there was always room to sit and have a beer to quell the pre-flight jitters.
I tried to get into the business lounge (our company provides a few passes) but my APP doesn’t work and I don’t have the account number written down. They suggest I contact customer service which I figure I can do another time and simply head to another restaurant.
I make my way to near gates 61-71 where I know there is a nice restaurant, Muslim-sounding but certainly not run by Muslims. I try to get a sandwich but they don’t have any. What do they have? Niu rou mian, beef noodles. And beer. Ok. Definitely not a Muslim restaurant.
Boarding was painless, surprisingly. The flight isn’t full so there’s no line up to get on. Since, for me, this flight is heading towards work (as opposed to a return flight home), there’s no need to rush to get on the plane nor to choose any particular seat. A return trip, however, needs to be checked in early and a seat selected (possibly by the window) so as to allow the strategic stowing of carry-on luggage so a hasty exit can be made upon our return to Beijing.
The plane moves away from the gate but, having flown in China several times, any hope that takeoff is just around the corner is quickly quelled by the experience of numerous delays.
And we are delayed.
Ten minutes.
We sit on the tarmac and I read my book. It’s the one pleasure of these trips is that I do have time to read. I carry physical books because they’re easier on my eyes and don’t draw the intrusive attention of the flight attendants and their dutiful ‘Please make sure your phone is off’ instructions.
Boong boong!
Chinese speaking and then…”Ladies and gentlement, we’re ready for takeoff…”
And just like that, the plane accelerates, quickly gaining speed, the wings shift into position to create the lift necessary to get off the ground. The wings re-order themselves with that familiar sound of moving gears, and finally we feel the plane tip up into the air and a moment later that dropping sensation of being in a pressurized capsule lifting off from the ground.
Ten minutes after takeoff we hit turbulence. Bumpity bump bump. Though, to describe anything while flying as ‘bumpy’ reeks of sarcasm. It’s not bumpy, it’s terrifying. With every jostle of the airplane one can’t help but wonder if the forensic analysts will say that that was the one that brought the plane down. Unlike trains or buses where they find bodies or belongings in a relatively close area, with airplane casualties they find pieces for miles and often resort to dental records to give a better idea (though not always certainly confirm) who the body may be. It’s simply terrifying. I’m not sure if other people think this way with regard to flying but I know I don’t have the same worry when boarding trains or buses.
Twenty minutes after takeoff the snacks are doled out. Today we get a bag of digestive biscuits and a bottle of water. I’ll save the biscuits for later because, in my experience, it’s good to have some dry snacks in your luggage just in case. I’m looking forward to the water and down that in a few gulps. The flight ladies are quick and efficient, not necessarily in a hurry, but not waiting long and certainly not doting.
It’s common to see female flight attendants and they do make for a pleasant trip. Much like their male counterparts, they are pretty, smiling, and generally amiable to foreign faces. They’re not unionized so I wonder how they can be so happy. I mean, of course, they’re faking it, but it’s the effort that counts and certainly makes for a very different flight experience than in other parts of the world.
And then my row mate has a sneezing atrack and, in typical fashion, lets it loose by doubling over and spraying whatever debris it is in between his legs. I’m not sure if it’s more hygenic, but it seems to be the fashion these days. I’m sure us foreigners do some things that make the Chinese cringe but they’re most likely too polite to say anything to us and much more reserved in their emotional outbursts to other people’s actions. I’ve taken to wiping down the table with a disinfectant cloth though and, to solve any carpet problem, I usually tear the puke bag into a flat piece of paper and then put my shoeless feet on that. Maybe taking our shoes off offends them? Nope. Other people are doing it too.
Thirty minutes to go. A flight attendant lady makes the announcement. They’re English pronunciation is hit or miss but the message is clear enough. I know they don’t get the job because they speak good English, but being able to speak, or at least recite, some English helps their job prospects. And that’s good enough. My Mandarin Chinese is no lullaby to listen to.
Despite being late for departure we’ll probably arrive on time. Not bad since the hotel is an hour away from the airport and I still need to hit the convenience store (超市 chao shi) before hitting the gym for twenty minutes or so. Although they’re long days, they can be filled with things you want or need to do, even though they may happen later or for shorter periods than you’d prefer.
Shenyang’s city lights appear.
Twenty minutes to go. Bumpity bump bump. Turbulence is never fun yet we pay theme parks for similar experiences.
Although a city of 8 million people, Shenyang isn’t really a city that is talked about very much. Dalian to the East or Harbin further North get more of the attention, though people I’ve talked to about Shenyang have mentioned that it’s a nice city to live in.
Final descent. Ka-chunk! goes the wheels as the landing gear bay is opened up, followed by the whirring sound of moving gears once again.
The city lights get closer and seem to sped up as we descend. It has always amazed me how close airplanes fly over highways and nearby neighbourhoods. I don’t think I could live by an airport, not only would it be noisy but I’d always be wondering if the plane was going to make it. A movie imagination.
The ground comes up to meet us as the plane levels out and finally…. ga-gonk! as the wheels hit the pavement. To me this is another amazing feat of modern engineering. At some 150 miles per hour the plane meets the runway on four wheels before bring its nose down with one wheel. Neat how they think these things up.
After landing you can see people already pulling out their cell phones and turning off airplane mode. I don’t blame them, it’s not unusual for planes in China to taxi around the runways for 20-30 minutes before finally getting to the gate. Shenyang’s airport, luckily, is a touch smaller than Beijing’s so the drive to the gate is much shorter.
We’re at the gate at 8:08 pm. Two minutes ahead of schedule!
And, in typical airplane travel fashion here in China, as soon as the seat belt light chimes off, you hear the familiar click of seatbelts unsnapping, rustling and then watch as heads quickly arise out of their seats and start assembling their luggage. Those who could, move down the aisle as quick as they can and are soon cut off by the other passengers who begin taking down their luggage from the racks above. We’ve arrived in Shenyang, an uneventful journey, and that’s the way it should be.