Friday, September 17, 2010
Friday. 6pm. Rain.
= gridlock. Trying to get home from 798 Art District was a nightmare. 20 minutes waiting for a taxi proved futile so we managed to find a bus which was going, if not in the direction of home, then at least somewhere else which wasn't 798 and a perpetual standstill. Thank Tao for bus lanes. Eventually we terminated at a bus station where we were to go our separate ways. Flagging down taxis was impossible, but my colleague spotted a motorbike with a tin compartment on the back and bundled me in. And so began an epic journey. It was like riding the dodgems, weaving in and out of traffic, missing cars by a whisker, mounting pavements and then, amazingly, taking a short cut through someone's garden. An hour later we arrived home, me a bag of nerves, the driver victorious and all smiles.