My Unrequited Love Affair With High-Speed Train

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Abstract

, a Venice-like water town I planned to visit. I had no choice but to call a taxi. It was an 80 kilometers ride and cost me 200 Yuan. I thanked God, for the second time during my three-week trip in China, for the record-high US dollar to Chinese Yuan exchange rate.Not coincidentally, the initial occurrence of the same sentiment was also at a high-speed train station, when I was traveling to China from the US via Hong Kong. Because of the pandemic, I hadn’t seen my family for almost four years. When China relaxed the entry requirements earlier this year, I seized the opportunity. The only problem was there were very few flights between China and US. I decided to fly to Hong Kong and take the high-speed train from there to my hometown Changsha.I had taken the high-speed train on my previous trips to China. I loved it. It was faster than the car and more convenient than the airplane. The distance between Hong Kong and Changsha is about 850 kilometers (530 miles), a little more than that between San Francisco and San Diego. It takes three hours and ten minutes. The train station is located close to the city center. As the train runs on the ground instead of flying in the air, the boarding process is simple. The ride is smooth and comfortable. You can look out of the windows at the changing scenery, which is another plus.Yet at Hong Kong, I met my first high-speed train Waterloo. Based on past experiences, I hadn’t reserved a lot of time to get through the station. But since Hong Hong is a special administration region of China, travelers have to navigate a labyrinth of checkpoints before boarding. When I was waiting once more to have my foreign passport, which again failed to activate the automatic scanner, checked by a human, my train departed. I had to buy a new ticket. Tha

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t was when I expressed gratitude for the first time for the favorable dollar Yuan exchange rate.I know that missing my train not once but twice in a single vacation exposes deep personal flaws. But in a twisted way, I also see it as evidence of the high-speed train’s remarkable performance. Call me a victim of Stockholm syndrome. Like a maiden clinging to her feelings more fiercely upon her lover’s rejection, after the incidents, I found myself admiring the high-speed train even more.I wish we had these trains in the US. Californian voters approved such a project in 2008, but so far only a small segment in the middle of nowhere has been built. The odds against it are high. High-speed rail is notorious for requiring significant upfront investment. Not to mention numerous other obstacles like legal disputes, environmental concerns, and changing political landscapes.In short, we just don’t have the ability to get things done. If our elected officials are eager to take action, it tends to involve undoing something their rivals have accomplished before. Politicians cannot agree on anything except that China is our biggest threat.Is it? By looking at the high-speed trains there, you might draw that conclusion. But China’s threat is never as grave as that from within. I have lived in both China and the US, and I know that the US has a better system. If we were to lose the competition to China, it would be because we have imploded on our own.I hope we have the high-speed train to take me from Bay Area to Lake Tahoe in one hour and LA in two. Since it doesn’t look like this will be the case anytime soon, the American version of my love affair with high-speed trains is also unrequited, even more so than its Chinese counterpart!</article></body>

My Unrequited Love Affair With High-Speed Train

A Morning Run in Changsha, Photo by Victoria Z.

At the Hangzhou high-speed train station, I finished a satisfying bowl of beef noodle soup and glanced at my iPhone. It was 8:20 pm. My train wouldn’t depart until 8:50 pm. I had plenty of time. I stood up and sauntered in the general direction of the gate.

The station was big and empty, with the restaurants and markets situated on the mezzanine and the check-in points located on the first floor. I saw a grocery store and strolled in to buy a bottle of water. Then I took the long escalator to descend to the ground level. Before heading to my gate, I made a pit stop in a restroom.

I kept the unhurried pace. Only after realizing my gate was at the far end of the hall, did I pick up the speed a bit. As I passed a billboard, I looked for my train to ensure it was on time. I couldn’t find it. A pang of uneasiness hit me. I broke into a run. When I arrived at the gate, the turnstiles were motionless and the surrounding area was empty. A red “boarding stopped” sign flickered next to my train number on the overhead screen.

I took out my iPhone. It was two minutes before the train would depart. Even if the staff would let me in, which they wouldn’t, it was unlikely I could catch the train. My heart sank. I guess I had half expected the PA system calling my name or the train delayed by a few minutes, both typical airport experiences, to afford me a second chance. But no, boarding stopped! The high-speed train proved far more unforgiving than the airplane.

It was the last train to Wuzhen, a Venice-like water town I planned to visit. I had no choice but to call a taxi. It was an 80 kilometers ride and cost me 200 Yuan. I thanked God, for the second time during my three-week trip in China, for the record-high US dollar to Chinese Yuan exchange rate.

Not coincidentally, the initial occurrence of the same sentiment was also at a high-speed train station, when I was traveling to China from the US via Hong Kong. Because of the pandemic, I hadn’t seen my family for almost four years. When China relaxed the entry requirements earlier this year, I seized the opportunity. The only problem was there were very few flights between China and US. I decided to fly to Hong Kong and take the high-speed train from there to my hometown Changsha.

I had taken the high-speed train on my previous trips to China. I loved it. It was faster than the car and more convenient than the airplane. The distance between Hong Kong and Changsha is about 850 kilometers (530 miles), a little more than that between San Francisco and San Diego. It takes three hours and ten minutes. The train station is located close to the city center. As the train runs on the ground instead of flying in the air, the boarding process is simple. The ride is smooth and comfortable. You can look out of the windows at the changing scenery, which is another plus.

Yet at Hong Kong, I met my first high-speed train Waterloo. Based on past experiences, I hadn’t reserved a lot of time to get through the station. But since Hong Hong is a special administration region of China, travelers have to navigate a labyrinth of checkpoints before boarding. When I was waiting once more to have my foreign passport, which again failed to activate the automatic scanner, checked by a human, my train departed. I had to buy a new ticket. That was when I expressed gratitude for the first time for the favorable dollar Yuan exchange rate.

I know that missing my train not once but twice in a single vacation exposes deep personal flaws. But in a twisted way, I also see it as evidence of the high-speed train’s remarkable performance. Call me a victim of Stockholm syndrome. Like a maiden clinging to her feelings more fiercely upon her lover’s rejection, after the incidents, I found myself admiring the high-speed train even more.

I wish we had these trains in the US. Californian voters approved such a project in 2008, but so far only a small segment in the middle of nowhere has been built. The odds against it are high. High-speed rail is notorious for requiring significant upfront investment. Not to mention numerous other obstacles like legal disputes, environmental concerns, and changing political landscapes.

In short, we just don’t have the ability to get things done. If our elected officials are eager to take action, it tends to involve undoing something their rivals have accomplished before. Politicians cannot agree on anything except that China is our biggest threat.

Is it? By looking at the high-speed trains there, you might draw that conclusion. But China’s threat is never as grave as that from within. I have lived in both China and the US, and I know that the US has a better system. If we were to lose the competition to China, it would be because we have imploded on our own.

I hope we have the high-speed train to take me from Bay Area to Lake Tahoe in one hour and LA in two. Since it doesn’t look like this will be the case anytime soon, the American version of my love affair with high-speed trains is also unrequited, even more so than its Chinese counterpart!