4/8/25
A disappointing realisation for us at breakfast. Powdered chicken had probably been a frequent addition to our noodles. A small amount ‘isn’t meat’ in China. Well we avoided it this time anyhow. Foolishly we tried to be early to visit the Terracotta Army and even took a taxi to get there.
Hordes of people were already there, 60,000 a day visit the attraction. Just the mention of “Terracotta Army” perks people’s interest. An exhibit at the British Museum decades ago brought late night openings and crushes. At least we already had our tickets. Which again were our passports.
Pit 1, the famous one discovered by farmers in 1974, required us to pass through two passport and bag checks. Separated by a short walk in the woods, optional battery car available. Entering the hall was as unorganised as Black Friday sales in America. Despite multiple security forces standing on columns overlooking the situation, no attempt for civilised behaviour was made. Repeatedly we’d seen signs around tourist destinations encouraging sensible behaviour.
Now we knew why. Domestic tourists, 99.99%, just shoved us out of the way. It was like being back at school in the lunch line. Elbows dug in, hands grabbed hold of rails to reserve places and worst of all: the triumphant look around to confirm your prestigious place. We longed for the sedate plodding reserved for Ho Chi Minh in Hanoi. Try as we might not to take it personally it was fairly aggressive at times.
Grandeur of the army obscured by a four deep crush of people, we settled for a side view of the intricately carved warriors that occupy the largest pit. Though there are several ‘base models’, every single life sized sculpture has unique facial features. Like a battalion frozen in time, ready to defend. Tunics each with detailed stitching. Scattered horses. Eventually we had a front row space. We hated the tour groups. Mindless packs of zombies with earpieces barricading around.
Pit two was far smaller. Thought to be a command pit, it contained very few sculptures. Pit three was a vast place that was used mainly to show a different, less invasive excavation technique. Mostly completely covered piles of earth with various see through boxes, swarmed by people, containing examples such as archers.
Lastly we plodded through museum. Worthwhile, though full of weary uninterested tour guided people. A brief history of the Qin dynasty, that immediately preceded the Han dynasty. Then details on the construction of the Mausoleum, 700,000 people at its peak. An entire city constructed for the emperor Shi Huang to make use of in the afterlife. Completely insane at best, pathologically narcissistic at worst. Delightfully, many of the different types of terracotta figures were on display in glass cages.
Escaping from the focal group of pits was a consumption encouraging enterprise. Gone was the option of a ‘battery car’, replaced with the long march through endless shops and stalls while being harassed. Principle insisted we put our heads down and politely refuse the insistent salespeople. Asking a few people, as there were minimal signs, we found the ferrying bus that would take use to Lishan Garden, another part of the mausoleum.
Standing at the front of the queue when a bus arrived we stupidly assumed that we might even have a seat. Alas, an elderly woman instructed her young child to shove Frankie, and the morons simultaneously launched into the back of us under some misguided idea that more seats would magically appear. Somehow we were standing. We didn’t mind, but had no idea how it happened.
Short bus journey over, a battery car took us through a large forest of pine trees. Slightly less popular and now a more familiar number, we explored the small collection of other pits. Pit K9901 contained acrobatic figures all of which had been exhumed. Pit K0006 contained the famous, half of life size, bronze carriages. Ridiculously intricate and perfectly reconstituted from their broken form over 5 years, they are forbidden from being exhibited outside China.
Joining the battery car to head back we were met by an almost certainly racist child, if such a thing exists, who kept looking, pointing and laughing. When Jonathan replied with a friendly “nǐ hǎo”, he promptly clapped sarcastically. His father, when we got off, asked us for a photo. Feeling very sure they were making fun of us and not feeling the friendly vibe we were used to, we politely refused and found a taxi to take us back to our hotel.
The second half of our day took us back to Raindrop Vegan for another crack at their buffet. Hunting for our 5th tube of toothpaste so far, and then making sure we were going to the correct train station for our overnight train to Beijing. It left from original Xi’an, not Xian North which we very nearly made the mistake of assuming was the correct departure point.
We’d left plenty of time but still felt a little stressed finding the railway station. Underground and mainline stations were not linked. Presumably for security reasons. Every sign said both entrance and exit, so we had to keep asking for help. Authenticated, we sat to wait in the slightly dated building. It was then we discovered that WeChat had disabled our account. For no reason. There was very little we could do. Unlocking our account needed a long term user, of which we didn’t know of.
Boarding the train was easy. Passengers all moved effectively in the time available, only half an hour, to fill the carriages. Only 1st class beds had been available at the time of booking and we were looking forward to a comfortable experience. Vietnam’s night train was still a bad experience in our minds.
Carriage 10, beds 9 and 10 were ours. Inside the compartment, some rather startled Chinese people. Something wasn’t right. Seconds later some kind of swapping had occurred and new people arrived. A woman and her baby, and a man who according to his tote bag had been attending a conference on energy in Xi’an. Unamused and extremely tired we found his failed attempt, he left the sound on, to take a sly picture of us disturbing. Departing perfectly on time at 7:19pm the D20 was scheduled to arrive in Beijing at 7:04am. A slightly off feeling in the air we were ready for bed by sunset.
Surly They Won't Make It 