After the mega-party on the night of 2nd, I didn’t get up until midday on 3rd August, and only at 1pm did I have some breakfast. In the afternoon I saw a few of the survivors from the evening before. I was sharing a dorm with Jim and Jen Mattos – brother and sister from the USA. They later turned up, and said they had just bought their train tickets to Beijing and would be travelling on the night train on 4th August, the same as me.

I actually still had to pick my train ticket up from “Mr Fix It” – it took a while to locate him, but he had the merchandise with him and I handed over a modest amount of cash for my “unofficial” Chinese ticket, hoping that it wouldn’t get me into trouble. Jen, Jim and I headed to the Small World Café again for some more beers, before getting a relatively early night.

While at breakfast on 4th August, Jen showed up and announced she was going to the Shaanxi Museum and did I want to go. I said yes, and after a quick cruise round the exhibit halls she bought a small painting for her brother. She was determined to keep it a secret from him, and I looked after it so she could appear empty handed when we got back to the hotel. Finally it was time to pack, get some lunch, and then the 3 of us headed off to the station.

We managed to go to the wrong waiting room at the station – a long way from the correct platform, and ended up having to sprint over at the last minute to not miss the train. I had a top bunk a little way down the train from Jen and Jim. There wasn’t too much to see from the train, and the afternoon slipped by with some reading. I joined Jen and Jim for some noodles in the dining car, where we got talking to a Swede called Marina, before the 4 of us headed back to J&J’s compartment.

In the morning (5th August) I was woken up by singing! It was Jen, Jim, and Marina singing “Happy Birthday”, and they had a balloon and presents! I was very touched! We headed down to Jen and Jim’s compartment and chatted for the rest of the morning. Finally at midday the train pulled into Beijing station. Nobody had given me any hassle for having a “Chinese” ticket, and I was able to get off the train at Beijing without complications.

Jim and Jen are studying in Beijing, and gave me their phone number as they said goodbye. My number one priority was to go to the USSR embassy to see what I needed to do, to get the vital Soviet transit visa, without which I would not be able to travel on the Trans Siberian 9 days later. I took the metro, and when I reached the embassy, I found people queueing outside. I asked what the system was, and a British girl told me all the painful details.

The embassy only opens in the mornings, on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. They are very slow and inefficient, and only the first 30 in the line outside stand a good chance of getting in to lodge their application and passport before they close. IF you get in, then it takes 2 days to issue the visa. The line starts forming the previous morning, and unless you’re there by early afternoon you stand no chance of being near enough the front of the line, and you’re likely to spend a night in the street for nothing.

With this cheery news I headed for what seemed to be a good choice of hotel, Qiao Yuan, at which I left my backpack, before getting a bite to eat and then headed off to find the main post office. On the way I accidentally came across the International Hotel, to which the travel agent in Hong Kong had told me to go, to pick up my Trans Siberian Train Ticket.

I found the travel agent’s office in the hotel, but they were reluctant to give me my ticket for some reason that wasn’t very clear, but was related to not having the visas yet. I pleaded with them to let me have it there and then, before getting the visas, to save having to go back later. They took pity, and I was duly handed a little pink booklet, with the ticket inside.

Relieved to have the all-important ticket home in my possession, I headed to the post office, where I found a bumper crop of letters waiting for me. It was the first time I’d ever received so much birthday correspondence actually on my birthday itself. That, combined with the balloon and presents first thing meant that 5/8/91 was one of the best birthdays I’ve had for many years!

I then headed back on the trolley bus, to the Qiao Yuan hotel, which I soon realised could best be described as a “grotty sweat-box”. I did, at least, meet a few other travellers, one of whom, Pete from Belfast, turns out to be travelling on the same Trans Siberian train as me on 14th August, in the same carriage. After an evening reading all my letters, I hit the sack.

I woke late on 6th August, after a restless sweaty night. I packed what I would need for the night outside the Soviet embassy, and left the rest for safe-keeping at the hotel. After a quick lunch with 2 Swedes, I headed to the embassy but found to my dismay that there were already a large number of people there. After some investigation, it turned out I was number 32. This meant it was touch-and-go as to whether I’d be able to get in.

Two Brits and an Austrian were just in front of me and mentioned that each person who gets in can actually take the application for another person, assuming it’s all prepared. So all was not necessarily lost, if someone in front offered. Also, people going to collect their passports after 2 days are given a pass so they can walk straight in, and can actually take other applications in with them. I decided to wait – there not being much choice.

Mid afternoon, an agreement was made by all present, with the approval of the security guard by the embassy door, that we would disappear off until 10pm and then return for the night. The guard kept the list to inform anyone who arrived in the meantime that they were behind several dozen people.

The 2 Brits said they were staying at the Long Tan hotel, which sounded much better than the place I was in. I went there with them, and secured a bed in a 5 bed airconditioned dormitory. I was sharing with 3 Spaniards were there, and I found I could communicate slowly, as my Spanish slowly started coming back. I rented a bike to go and fetch the rest of my belonging from the sweat-box, and around mid-evening I headed to the Soviet Embassy once more.

A roll-call was made at the agreed time – 10 pm. A few people weren’t there and were duly struck off the list, putting me in position 25. A few enterprising souls had brought proper beds with them, with springs and mattresses! I had my orange bivouac bag and a sleeping bag, with my blue towel as a mattress. It was actually too hot to need the sleeping bag. Next to me was Jake who had replaced Ferdi, the Austrian girl – all he had for comfort was a copy of China Daily, but he didn’t complain!

In the end the night wasn’t too bad. There was a great sense of camaraderie. Two girls from Yugoslavia were behind me in the line and just happily sat chatting and cracking jokes the whole night, from what I could tell each time I woke up.

The 7th August duly dawned. As had been predicted, several of the people coming to pick up their visas from 9 am onwards offered to take other people’s applications into the embassy. A Danish girl offered to take mine, and those of Jake, and of Sue (the Canadian behind the Yugoslavs). We were a bit nervous and talked to the Dane to make sure she seemed trustworthy. She came out saying all was well, and gave us our passports and receipts, so we can pick up our respective visa documents on Friday 9th August.

Since I still had a place in the queue, and looked like I’d be able to go in anyway, I offered to take in the applications of 2 other people – Ellen and Coen from the Netherlands, who were 10 places behind me. They were incredibly grateful, since they had feared they wouldn’t get in. After lodging their applications, and giving their passports back, I went with them to the Long Tan hotel. After lunch I went to get some extra passport photos that I will need for the Polish visa.

Now that things are moving with regards to visas, I felt able to do some tourism, so I headed to Tiananmen Square and took some photos.

The most stunning thing about Tiananmen Square is its size – 300 x 750 metres. It is dominated by the Forbidden City at one end, the Great Hall of the People on one side, and the ridiculously large Mao Zedong Mausoleum in the middle.

The dominant mode of transport is the bike – the bike lanes are the widest I’ve seen anyhere.

Even in the Chinese capital there are hardly any private cars – just occasional taxis on the quiet streets.

I will leave the Forbidden City for another day. From Tiananmen Square I went to the old sweat-box hotel to rescue some clothes that I’d left being washed, and then unsuccessfully tried to call Jim and Jen on the number they’d given me.

Finally I headed back to Long Tan for an early night to catch up on the sleep I’d lost outside the Soviet Embassy.