Beijing airport

This seemed nothing special, I remarked to myself. In fact it seems rather dated. I wonder how it will cope with the impending Olympics? We passed quickly customs without incident ( we were invited to vote on the custom officer’s performance using an electronic device and I bought a prepaid SIM card – with the help of James’ Chinese. We had a five hour wait ahead of us, and the plan was to “escape” the terminal and see a bit of the area from a taxi , or preferably get into Beijing city and back. But this was not to be. We first had to find domestic departures, for our last leg to Jinan.


What fun! A new country, hordes of people, countless signs in Chinese, and conflicting advice from various officials we approached. We met a cockney soccer player lad in the lift as we all struggled with our luggage trolleys: he was only wanting to get out of the building. He’s been going up and down and was lost – he may still be there! “They won’t go without me”, he weakly reassured himself, “as I have all their kit”.

It seems we were in the wrong building. “Take a shuttle bus to Terminal 3”. So we got back into the lift again, nodded at the soccer lad who was starting to mutter gibberish, and after several false starts found ourselves being whisked through the yellow tinted atmosphere to a modern marvel : Beijing Airport Terminal 3.


Commenced only five years ago, and finished on time within budget, this building is a testament to dogged determination, political will, intense labour and bold, brilliant architecture. This is where the Olympic visitors will be arriving and leaving – their first and last impression of a proud, emerging nation, with the fasting growing economy in the world.

It was a pleasure to be in extended transit in this brand new building, although it was almost deserted. And even more enjoyable as we welcomed the company of a 24 year old student from Jinan, the city we were soon to call home. “Luke” is studying his masters in UK and returning to visit his family. His English was excellent and he helped us enormously. He is the face of the new generation of young Chinese who are dispensing with older systems and embracing selected western values. James, of course, practised his Chinese on him, and was appropriately guided.

Our pathetic efforts of trying to find the taxi rank, let alone secure a taxi to take us on a one hour “excursion” ended in our giving up, and having a cup of (very expensive, relatively) coffee. We said goodbye to Luke at the luggage carousel at Jinan, but hope to catch up with him again. He has a fine mind.

From Jinan airport to our digs

The not small size of Jinan airport is an indication of the size of the city (5.5 million people). We were mercifully met by a University representative and his driver, who drove at breakneck speed along an efficient freeway which gradually disintegrated into chaotic traffic as we neared the city. A variety of horns and sirens employed by our driver aimed at cars and trucks all around generally had no effect. It seems true that Chinese drivers do what they want oblivious of rules, as I watched a car driving the wrong way down a five lane expressway, causing mild mayhem.

Dust is the overriding impression. (Later: Grit pervades through clothes, hair, bed linen and the whole apartment.) Few street lights accentuated the dusty gloom, even in the centre of the city.

All we wanted to was to get to our apartments and sleep, but the Uni representative insisted on buying us a meal. He was somewhat annoyed that task of meeting us had interrupted his normal mealtime. A dubious looking restaurant with staff wearing old and tattered red brass band jackets, and some rather unremarkable food. It turns out the restaurant was opposite the living quarters of the boorish rep, who bade us farewell and left us with Mr Dong, the driver, to get to our quarters. I’m unsure how far we detoured.

The woman responsible for the apartments (housing 18 foreigners, all working at the Shandong Jianzhu University) met us and handed over the keys for the ground floor apartments. We briefly met George, our co-ordinator (another teacher from Melbourne, who arrived several days earlier) and who was also new to Jinan, although he had had prior experience with working with VU in China. Then we crashed, after 24 sleepless hours.

Second leg - Singapore to Beijing

As the flight was only a quarter full, this leg of my odyssey was so, so much better, and my spirits lifted accordingly. I could stretch out over three seats and snooze. I could walk around and stretch my legs. At one stage I had no less than six Singapore Airline hostesses attending me! What beautiful women they are! And superbly groomed – just like the advertisements. Singapore Airlines certainly redeemed itself with good food and great service.

Descending into Beijing, the light outside became rather strange. Winter sunshine struggling through smog yields a decidedly yellowish tinge. Why was the countryside so brown and bare? Of course! This is a country emerging from a severe northern hemisphere winter. We don’t see this Australia, where most vegetation is evergreen. (The next day I found near my apartment magnolia in bloom, and willow trees showing their first flush.)

Where was James?

I had feared that my colleague had missed our flight from Melbourne, but eventually caught up with him at the departure lounge at Singapore. It transpired that he had been arbitrarily selected for an upgrade to Business Class. Er ... right. While I was having claustrophobic panic attacks in the 2nd back row window seat? I felt a little less peeved when I learned that, despite his luxurious accommodation, he didn’t get any sleep. Here he is, back in economy class, studying Chinese.

James is proficient in Chinese, which is a good thing, as I know not one word. I have declared to him that I don’t intend to learn, which I think he finds somewhat odd, as our imminent immersion experience is a perfect opportunity to learn.

He has a Chinese wife and a three year old son waiting for him to return to Melbourne. He is consumed with regret about leaving them for so long, which is somewhat understandable. But as he is teaching his son Chinese (children are so adept at learning languages), indeed uses Chinese exclusively in his home, I think it is a very positive thing for him, to not only earn an income, but to improve his Chinese to better teach his son. Apparently his son is even starting to correct him ! Here is James’ website.

Singapore - in transit

The last time I was at (what was then) Singapore International Airport, was about 30 years ago. At that time you could be refused entry to this Island State if your hair was too long! Or if you did not show civility to the immigration officials. It was hot, humid, dirty and incredibly busy.

My, how things have changed! (Apart from the paranoia about drugs). The splendid Changi Terminal is a pleasure to explore when in transit. I'd forgotten how many rich people there are in the world, just looking at all the boutique shops. It's 6am and all the shops opened promptly. I have found a cluster of free internet terminals and am pounding away on the keyboard while standing up.



I have just endured a 7 hour night flight from Melbourne. Never settle for a window seat for a night flight - you are at the mercy of the other two sitting (and sleeping) next to you. And I found to my horror that I had a dose of the trots! The person next to me refused to stand up, and I had to climb over him. A sleepless, rough flight, and the rear seats of a 777 are the not the best place in plane - there was definitely a side to side "wiggle" all the way, playing havoc with a delicate stomach! I got a case of diarrhoea induced claustrophobia in the darkened cabin, while getting cramps, imagining DVT as the seat was pressing into my thighs, and the guy in front lay his seat back.

We haven't come very far to eliminate cattle class.

Now, a three hour wait and then on to Beijing. I have secured an aisle seat in an access row. Whoo hoo!


I don't know where James (my Jinan colleague also from Melbourne) is.

To begin at the beginning

Trepidation, a modicum of excitement, with a liberal dash of exhaustion. I suppose that's how I might explain how I feel the day before I'm due to fly from Melbourne to Jinan, to take up a teaching post at Shandong Jianzhu University. People keep saying "You must be so excited!" People don't know.