From Six to Four
Beijing, China
December 6th- 10th, 2007
By Dan Murdoch

“It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.”
Confucius

AN EVENTFUL few days has seen our sixsome temporarily reduced to four.
Lovey has flown down to Bangkok in Thailand, definitely to collect the spare parts, ostensibly to arrange press contacts, and possibly to meet women.
He flew out on Sunday (9th December) and his separation is temporary. We plan to meet up just over the Laos border next week to fix the cars and continue south.
But on Friday (7th) Zsofi left for good. Flew home to Budapest, Hungary, to a land of exams and studenting.
It seems like she’s been saying she will have to go home for months now, so it was no great palaver. We’d already said goodbye once, back when we were stuck in Xilinhaote and she went ahead to Beijing alone. We ended up meeting and spending another last few days together.
But this time we new it was final as walked her to her cab and waved her off.
It was pretty sad. I guess it will affect the Mighty Tony P the most, they have been driving Dante together for five months, so it’ll surely be strange for him. But I’ll leave that for him to explain.

Before she left I chatted with her about the trip. We talked about how hard it had been for her to come, with her friends telling her she was mad, and her family actively trying to dissuade her. She had to bunk off a semester of university and get horribly in debt to her parents. She hadn’t travelled for more than a few weeks before, and at 21, was the youngest on the trip, and one of just a couple of girls. So it was a pretty brave decision.
Her highlight was Central Asia, her lowlight was being unwell in Siberia. Her best friend was Tony, but she got on with everyone.
Yes, she’s disappointed not finish the trip, but she feels she done as much as she could- she has to go home now for exams.

When we got back to the hostel, I looked around and, for pretty much the first time, it was just the boys. Just the elite who plan to go all the way. In a way that felt good- the final team assembled for the final push.

The next day Carlos, TP, OJ and I headed to a strange temple. The Dongyue Temple.
I don’t think I really got it, but it was full of little rooms with strange mannequins in: devils, gods, men and women, people being tortured or executed in quite disturbing ways.
These rooms had names like The Department of Suppressing Schemes, The Department for Implementing 15 Types of Violent Death, The Department of Controlling Cheating, The Department of Signing Documents, The Department of Retribution and Reward, The Department of Wind Gods, The Department of Giving Birth to Insects, of Opposing Obscene Acts, of Individual Destiny, Reducing Longevity, Accumulating Justifiable Wealth.
Chinese really doesn’t translate to English very well.
There was a donation box in front of each room and I guess if you are affected by whatever the department deals with you’re meant to chuck some cash in there.
I don’t know too many people who have been affected by insect birth, and surely once affected by the 15 types of terrible death it’s a bit late to start bribing the gods. But like I said, I don’t think I got it.
I’ve whacked a few of the pictures up anyway.

On the way back we ate scorpion. As you do.

Later that night the whole of Trabant Trek was accused of being boring by an English woman called V.
“I'm getting a picture of you lot,” she announced in the lounge of our hostel picking off a snap, “this is how I will remember you- sitting on your laptops working. That’s all you do.”
The hostel had free wifi and it’s true we had hardly socialised, instead geeking out on the internet.
But being called boring after giving up our jobs to drive the world’s worst car across half the planet doesn’t strike me as dull.
“Come and play kings, put your laptops down,” she added mockingly.
Well how could we turn down such a challenge? Boring? Not up for drinking? An affront to my Englishness. I can urinate in streets and break garden furniture with the best of them.
We accept.
Kings is a messy and raucous drinking game with absolutely no skill and plenty of downing whatever’s to hand. We all got pretty wasted and loud and ended up blowing off some steam.
Carlos and I continued the merriment, heading out with a couple of Irish lads, an English chap and V herself, to party Beijing style. I hadn’t expected to find a large Nigerian community out here, relaxing with Jack and Jill. They were fun and we carried on clubbing and partying until about 11am the next morning, when Carlos retired and I headed off for the best version of a Bloody Mary Beijing can offer.
It was rubbish.

The next day we hopped on a 12-hour, overnight train south to Xi’an.

The shenanigans completely wiped out the next day, and I still felt crap on Monday. I also lost my wallet in a drunken stupor: sim card for my phone, bankcard, driving license and press cards- all Missing In Action, but that sort of night always involves collateral damage.
I’ve promised Carlos not to put up a video of him trying to re-enter the hostel around brunch time on Sunday. Messy. (If you want to see I can email it you.)
We haven’t been out like that since Bishkek, though the Americans weren’t with us.
When I staggered back to the hostel, around 1pm, clutching the remains of a Bloody Mary, wearing a troubled grin and a squint, I found Lovey all packed ready to fly out to Bangkok.
Not sure what he thought of me, but I didn’t really have too much to say for myself.

Just four of us, with no cars- down from the nine who headed out with four cars nearly five months ago. A sorry state of affairs, but if all goes to plan we will be reunited with the Trabbis later in the week, then smuggle them to the border to rendezvous with Lovey.
It should only take a couple of days.
Of course that’s the plan. It’ll probably take a week.

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Ends
For more of Dan’s blogs visit: http://danmurdoch.blogspot.com or www.trabanttrek.org