Home to Our Three Tiny Beds.

Late for our first real blog post, but of course we've been keeping busy in order to have things to write about. Heading to the Wall tomorow, will probably update Monday before leaving for Ulaanbaatar.

The departure was a silent, stressful affair, my parents keeping their concerns from me, outwardly expressing excitement. My first trip on a jet in seven years and I kept having to remind myself that I enjoy the experience, otherwise a short, dull affair.
Arriving at ORD (I've taken to using IATA Airport codes, in the hopes that it will make me look like an experienced traveller, but mainly because Ottawa becomes YOW, which becomes Ye-Oww in my head) I was fairly excited. Reading Sister Carrie and the countless cartoonists who base themselves around the Windy City has elevated it in my mind. I tried to pass some of my excitement over American brands and label design on to Jenny but it did not stick.
The flight to PEK was pretty bad, neither of us slept for the whole 12 hours or at any point since we had woken at 4am Ottawa time. We followed the Sun the entire way, so everyone kept their blinds close, opening them only to see what we were over. We were seated in an emergency exit, giving us more leg room that was constantly being filled by the other travellers stealing drinks from the galley and stretching their legs.
Put another way, imagine trying to go to sleep while your dad and five of his buddies climb onto your bedside table and have a party.
Of course you can't hear them, because you have what is essentially two of the world's biggest, angriest fans less than 30 feet outside your window.
You can't see them, because you've cocooned yourself in blankets, in the hopes of emerging 12 hours later, a mature, fully-developed World Traveller.
Still you can't fall asleep because the thought of leaving yourself vulnerable while these tit-high jean wearing men exchange pleasantries and drink tips leaves you with such disgust you feel it in your spine. And you realise you'd rather be watched over by Fire-Rapists. At least then you'd hear some good stories.
The flight attendants were great though. Very professional. A Number One.

I'll write about my impressions of Beijing once we leave it.