So we arrived in Xi'an after learning, late the night before, that the hotel we had booked before leaving Zhanjiang had canceled our reservation.
So that was fun.
But I gotta hand it to Meghan, Deirdre, and Patrick: they took it in stride, travel-weary and all, and we just decided that, well, we'd have to find a hotel when we got there. Stepping off the plane with only a fistful of ideas was a ... unique experience.
So we now cut to a scene of four young Americans getting off the airport shuttle, in the middle of bustling, shuffling Xi'an, the fireapple red and deep-shock blue of their suitcases clamoring for attention in the dust-muted cityscape. I set off to look for bargains, the others waiting patiently, taking all the weirdness and unpredictability in stride. It makes me proud, so see 'em all going with it, no complaints. That's good travelin'.
Just as we're about to get in a cab to go to some three-star money hole, Meghan spies the YMCA sign, and tucked behind the sprawling DongDaJie (that's "East Big Street" to you, patient reader), we find a bargain: two hundred kuai a night for four beds in a windowless room, private bathroom to boot. You can't beat that, considering the next best thing was over two hundred sixty a night for one room with two beds.
Tomorrow, bright and early, is the Army of the Terra Cotta Warriors, and a whole lot more. This trip is so much fun.