Since Sunday was the Lantern Festival I left my house at 6pm to give myself plenty of time to get to the airport for my 8.30pm flight. I needn’t have worried, the flight got put back until 11.30pm so I didn’t arrive in Beijing until 1am. Then I had to queue 30minutes for a taxi and didn’t get to my hotel until 2.15.
I stay at the same place every time I visit the capital but at that hour all the street lights and shop signs were switched off and the roads were covered in a thin layer of snow. I couldn’t figure out where the hotel was. After several minutes peering through the misted up windows of the taxi we finally pulled over and asked a lonely guard sitting in a sentry box who proved to be equally clueless – it was only the next morning that I realized the hotel was directly across from where we had stopped.
By the time I got to my room I was feeling well past peckish. Considering we were close to the city centre I was surprised there wasn’t a 24 hour store anywhere nearby. Room service was out of the question too. There were a couple of complimentary tea bags I could chew on but no sign of anything else.
I cased the joint and discovered an unplugged refrigerator concealed inside the cupboard under the desk containing two lukewarm cans of coke, an expensive looking bottle of Evian water and a large can of peanuts.
Before I ripped the off the lid and wedged a handful of nuts into my mouth, I needed to know how much this feast was going to cost me. I’ve been travelling long enough to know that hotel rates are generally governed by what they feel they can get away with charging health executives on bloated travel budgets and thus a certain degree of caution is required. I found a bilingual price list in Chinese and Japanese buried away in the desk drawer and was surprised to find that although the coke was 30 yuan (about 2 quid 50) the peanuts were well, peanuts.
The can was sealed with one of those pull ring tops that came off as easily as the cap on a tear gas grenade. The ring detached before I had even managed to remove half the lid and I had to bend it back using the pliers on my Swiss army knife.
I started to tuck in as passed the time running down the remainder of the price list. Some of the stuff was standard issue; chocolate bar, banana, beer, red wine, razor and a hairbrush (just in case the complementary comb wasn’t up to scratch). Then I hit an item for which I didn’t know the Chinese characters. It was 30 yuan, or 10 yuan a character. I reached for the dictionary to look it up. Condom.
I took another gander in the fridge, I even looked under the cans of coke, but there was no condom to be had. So, if you happen to get lucky, or things start to heat up then at some point you are going to have call a halt to proceedings in order to give room service a bell.
“This is room 1221, could you send up a two bottles of wine, a chocolate bar, oh and ahem, er, a condom. Yes, that’s right, a condom – oh, you are reception, er yes please could you transfer me – hello, room service, could you …”
Plus the language problem raises the possibility of further misunderstanding. Ask for a condom and you might get a comb. Try to mime what you want and you may end up with a young lady knocking on your door, that or a pencil sharpener.
But I suppose it’s better than leaving them laying about to help yourself and then sorting it all out when you check out at a crowded front reception. When I paid up, there was a long protracted discussion shouted across the length of the counter about the can of peanuts I pilfered from the refrigerator. “he ate some peanuts/peanuts?/yes peanuts/where do I charge him for the peanuts?/write peanuts at the bottom of the receipt”
Thinking about it, at 30 yuan it sounds quite a bargain
Boadicea's Chariot 
Thanks for this CB. I enjoy reading of your experiences in China. Keep writing.
Ooh! All part of the service, you might say… Imagine asking for it on the phone, or being charged for it with that public heckling at reception! When I first arrived in France, one of the first disastrous tasks I faced, was, I am ashamed to say, asking for a pregnancy kit in the local pharmacy. Long story, but not as bad as it sounds…
Thanks for the next instalment … What’s the Lantern Festival?
Excellent!
V enjoyable read.
Thanks.
Condoms in the fridge eh! That’s a new one. I know what you mean about hotel prices though.
I’m puzzled how miming the need for a condom could possibly be confused with a pencil sharpener. My condom charade would be quite different.
I remember the first time my boys had their own adjacent hotel room. They lounged on their beds watching Sky TV and within half an hour they’d eaten £28 worth of mini bar supplies. That holiday was not a success. They sulked every time they were ordered to leave the room.
I too had to upurchase a pregnancy kit in France once, plus something for constipation. Imagine the confusion.
Pseu; not nice, is it?! The pharmacienne subjected me to a mafioso style grilling in front of a massive queue of people. I mimed; to no avail. But these words will be ingrained in my mind forever, like a medieval branding; ‘je peux avoir un test de grossesse…?’
I gave it up after trying to buy a chicken in Spain in the local butcher in my youff. Reduced to jumping up and down, clucking and waving my arms, reduced the place to helpless laughter, got my chicken though!
Christina; I can only begin to imagine…! The other ‘foreign miming story’ I have is a bit too yucky to relate on here, in the presence of – ahem – ze gentlemen ; )
“Un test de grossesse” Claire. Eeeew!
I mimed a cervical smear once, by accident. It was shortly after brush cytology came in, so I did a twirly movement rather like a chimney sweep might.
Jan; hee hee! You make me feel less self conscious now…I once had a heavy period mimed at me. I think we should probably call a halt, before the gennlmen throw us off here for good, n’est-ce pas?!
Oh I dunno, Claire. CB started it with his pencil sharpener. He shoulders some responsibility here. The fire alarm guys were in our place yesterday and wanted to test the alarm. I told them to hold fire for a few minutes as a rectal examination was in progress. The guy visibly winced. 🙂
The Lantern Festival is the Mid-Autumn Festival, roughly equivalent to Harvest Festival. It is also the Festial of Chang E, the Moon Godess. The Autumn full moon is supposed to be the most perfec of the year so Chines people make a party of viwing the full moon. The lanterns are part of the festivities and so are moon-cakes; little pastry cases filed with extremely sweet bean-curd paste – far too sweet for me, as are many Chinese sweet-meats, except egg tarts – what we would call custard tarts – especially the Macau variety.
Thanks Bravo.
You know, Bravo, I’ve never had a mooncake. One day… Oh you like the egg tarts too! 🙂 Scrummy aren’t they? The pastry is so flaky and light and the eggy bit is like a little golden pool. The best ones were part of the dim sum at the Council Offices of whatever they call them in HK. Warm and melt-in-the-mouth.
Janh and Claire – Ladies, please!! Too much detail. Faaaar too much detail! 😦
OZ
I remember the time that I inadvertently twisted a testicle …
Bearsy,
Whose?
Torsion of testes makes a man testy.
Testy, Pseu? ‘Tis tantamount to terrible torture.
Mine, Furry; I remember the pain to this day.
Fair Enuff Bearsy,
Mine has started aching purely at the thought. 🙂
I DEMAND MODERATION NOW! Too much bolleaux before the watershed.
Hugh,
Before the watershed, behind the bikeshed.
Potatoes, potartoes
Ok, sorry; I started it, I think! But yes, there is such a thing as Too Much Information…like when they debrief you before a C Section… ; )
Sorry to offend your sensibilities OZ, I probably took things a little too far on long-suffering SB’s hotel room blog.
Do Claire and I really have to go off to the Ladies to discuss these things? If so, Bearsy, can you set one up? Either that or a Quack corner when I can get all anatomical and we can swap bogus doctor treatments and snake oil recipes.
🙂