Not so short bus (Word to David Ho)

The other day I decided to explore the different transportation options offered in Beijing. I found out that the bus fare is .12 (USD) and even cheaper with a bus card. I wanted to get my authentic Chinese ride on so I packed up some single yuans (aka the Chinese George Washington's) and headed out with a nebulous plan to find a bus to take me to Starbucks.

See a group of people at a stop, so I go over to check it out. There are like 20 bus lines listed on the sign. Should I take the 43, 116, 703, 834, or something in between? Since I do not (a) read Chinese and (b) know Beijing very well, I have no idea where each bus is supposed to go. Three buses approach and people start queuing up. So I was like fock it this 703 bus looks good.

In order to get to this Starbucks I've been hitting, I just need the bus to go straight for a few blocks, and I can get off. Instead at the first major intersection, the bus goes left. Hmmmmm. Then I get a "David Ho"* inspiration and decide to just ride it out nahmean and see where the bus takes me. Because taxis are so cheap here (e.g., $8 for 45 minute ride to airport), I figure if anything I can just get off and hop in a cab and go back to the apt.

[*When I was growing up there was a kid in my town named David Ho, a special kid if you will, who enjoyed spending his weekends and free time riding the bus around town. He would just ride the bus till the end of the line, wherever that was and then ride back. Back and forth back and forth. He also used to really like Mickey Mouse. When I was in 7th grade, some 8th graders told him that Mickey Mouse got shot, and he ran around the halls crying hysterically, "Noooooo!!!!!!! Mickey Mouse died! Mickey Mouse died!!! Waaahhhhhh!!!!"]

So I'm just cruising, checking out parts of Beijing I have never seen before (i.e., 95% of the city), and then my phone rings. Unknown number. Who can this be?

"What up my China Man!!!"

It's my favorite newly naturalized Italian citizen, Mr. Fitzpatrick, who himself recently moved to London. He is living a tad different lifestyle more akin to Jim Jones ("Ballin!").



It is about 1pm on Sunday afternoon in Beijing, so I figure it's about 4 or 5am on Sunday morning o'er in London.

"Just got back home yeah yeah. Just a regular night out in London, you know, spent $200 (USD) in cabs..."

I chuckle to myself as I look out the window on the bus that cost .12 (USD) to get on. People are staring at me as I don't think many non-locals ride this piece. A different world indeed. I haven't talked to Tommy in a while, so we catch up and then the connection starts to get crappy. I look up, and I realize I've been riding this bus for like over 30 minutes and I have absolutely no idea where I am.

Fock it.

I'm going to David Ho this mothertrucker and keep riding!

Then the bus stops at what appears to be the end of the line, and everybody on the bus starts to get off.



OK, so I guess this is where I'll get off. I look at the bus number to confirm 703. Uh, why does it say 43?! Did the number change while I was riding? WTF?! (It turns out I actually took the 43 from the get-go. More than one homages to David Ho on this day.)

I conjecture that I am pretty far from the center of Beijing. It certainly feels authentic. I don't see a single weiguoren (foreigner). I like how courteous and resourceful the community is with the brick pathway.





And you know I have to give love to the 3-Wheel Motion that serves grub!



I try to figure out my way back by taking a bus in the opposite direction, but I can only find a No. 12 bus. I take it for a while but then it starts looping back and I'm seeing the same buildings again. Uh oh. Hop off and catch a cab. We drive for a long time, but only costs $4 (USD). Four hours after leaving the apt, I'm finally back.

Word to David Ho.