Our assistants told us that a taxi to Hailaer would cost 30RMB per person, while bus tickets were 27RMB each way. When looking at a two hour trip, it seemed obvious and simple to fork over an extra 3RMB for the luxury of the taxi.
So, we caught a black cab near Eerguna's only bus station. We got in and sat there for about thirty minutes before we realized that it's only 30RMB per person IF there are four people in the cab. Before coming to this realization, we had acquired a front seat passenger who filled the trunk up with loaves of Russian bread. Once we figured out the deal, we offered 45RMB each and, finally, we hit the road.
The driver was wearing a jacket with official-looking police patches on both arms. But I think he went about 100kmph and stopped once to pee on the side of the road and stopped a second time to let Mike do the same. Something tells me I could probably own a police jacket, too.
After two hours, we arrived in Hailaer, the Pittsburgh of Hulun Beier, on the prowl for two things: fast food and cheese.
During my previous trip to China, I was warned by a tour guide named Rock that one should "only eat Kentucky in an emergence." Regardless, Mike and I pounded the pavement searching for some Original Recipe goodness.
And we found it.
And we spent nearly 130RMB (roughly $20US) enjoying three mashed potatoes, two chicken sandwiches, two chicken wings, two Dragon Twisters, two egg dessert tarts, two fruit and ice cream parfaits, two sodas, two coffees, a small popcorn chicken, a large popcorn chicken, and a large french fry.
I'm still largely ashamed of what feels like cement churning in my stomach, but also quite fulfilled and happy to feel really American.
After giving our regards to the Colonel, we found a Friendship Supermarket to complete our second mission of the day: cheese. In Eerguna there is a distinct lack of cheese. China's dairy capital fails to function in this creamy, delicious arena of my diet staple.
Luckily, the Friendship Supermarket had both regular and black pepper flavor, all individually-wrapped for my convenience. The supermarket also had butter and fabulous-looking loaves of dark oatmeal bread that we simply couldn't resist.
And, to complete what was obviously turning into a craving for grilled cheese, we upgraded to a heavy, almost cast-iron skillet of a pan that shouldn't burn everything we cook.
Stomachs full of grease and bags full of dairy, we headed back to the bus station an hour early for our bus. Some guy kept telling us to get on to one leaving sooner. So we did because he kept insisting even after he saw our tickets with the bus number and time on them.
So, we boarded the bus, hit the seats in the back, and had a short jam session to the illest beats and Auto-Tuned remixes Hulun Beier has to offer.
It took the bus driver about twenty minutes to figure out someone was on the bus who shouldn't be. And, then, another ten to figure out it was us.
The whole bus was laughing at us as the driver and the man who urged us onto the bus tried then to get us to pay for the tickets again.
We yelled at the man who told us to get on the bus, but it didn't really matter. We got off with ample time to get on the bus we were supposed to be on in the first place.
Did he really think we were going to pay for tickets again just to make him look like less of an idiot? Did he really think he could hustle us, the kids with all the cheese and butter? The kids living in the good graces of the Colonel?
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