Run for the Border

Our last trip to Hong Kong took an interesting turn. We missed the last ferry from Hong Kong (Central) to Zhuhai -- this ferry leaves at 9:30 pm, which is insanely early (IMHO). So, we decided to try for Plan B: take a ferry from Hong Kong to Macau and then cross the Macua-China border into Gongbei, which is part of our local area. From there, it would just be an easy bus ride home.

[A not-so-brief digression. Hong Kong and Macau are part of China, but they are S.A.R.'s -- Special Administrative Regions. As such, they basically operate as separate countries -- different laws and what not. Also, mainlanders -- people from China proper -- need visas to enter these regions. Since we carry U.S. passports, we don't need a visa to get into Hong Kong or Macau, we just need a multiple-entry visa for China so that they'll let us back into the mainland. Whenever you leave the mainland to go to one of these places, you have to go through customs, which means getting your passport stamped, etc.].

Here is a map of the region:



Anyway, we got on the jetfoil to Macau, and the ride was uneventful. There are jetfoil ferries that run between Hong Kong and Macau 24-hrs a day, bringing the wealthy Hong Kongers to Macau to gamble [Macau is China's Las Vegas] and then bringing back home again after they lose their money.

I was pretty relaxed on the ferry ride until I realized that we wouldn't be arriving in Macau until about 11:00 pm. This worried me because the Macau-China border closes at midnight, and you have to be "in the doors" of the immigration building before that or they might shut you out. And having never been in Macau, I had no idea where the border was in relation to the ferry terminal where we'd be arriving.

When we got to Macau, took about 20 minutes to get through immigration. When we got outside, I looked around and couldn't see the border to China, so we waited in a taxi queue to get a ride. When it was finally our turn, I hopped in the taxi and shouted "Zhuhai!" (the name of our city). The taxi driver looked at the clock on his stereo (which, by this time, read about 11:15) and said "China?!?" (as in, "there is no way we are gonna make it on time"). But he did what all taxi drivers over here do -- took off like a bat out of hell and sped us at top speed through the relatively quiet streets of Macau. Turns out the border is a good 12 minutes away from the ferry terminal. Along they way I amused myself by trying to read the Portuguese signs on all the shops -- Macau uses both Chinese and Portuguese. It kept me from stomping on the car accelerator to make the driver go even faster.

We finally screeched to a halt outside of a giant administrative-looking building. As I tossed some bills at the taxi driver, he shouted "straight! straight!" and pointed straight ahead, telling us where we needed to go. I think that he was more than a little pleased with himself for getting us there before it was too late.

Keep in mind that throughout all of this, we were hauling around all the crap that we'd bought in Hong Kong.

We hurried into the building, quickly filled out some immigration paperwork, and stood in line to get our passports stamped. But this line wasn't even to get into China, it was just to leave Macau. By this point I was kind of freaked out. What would happen, I wondered, if we managed to leave Macau but didn't make it across the street to the Chinese immigration building? Would we be able to get back into Macau or would be have to stay in between the borders all night in a sort of limbo?

We were allowed to leave Macau, and we hurried 100 meters or so to the Chinese immigration building. And here's where the real fun began. People were queued up in different rows. Some lines were supposed to be just for foreigners and some for mainlanders. But the mainlanders would just dive under the metal-railing barriers that separated the lines and cut in front of whomever they wanted to. And a lot of people were drunk, so there was that to contend with. A woman in line behind me (from Hong Kong, I think -- she had on fancy clothes) was being harassed by a group of drunk businessmen. People kept trying to cut in front of me, but I made a barrier with my arms and legs so that they couldn't get through.

At about 11:55, we made it up to the immigration counter. Stamp, stamp, and we were through (not before the immigration officer called her supervisor over to double-check my photo. In my passport photo I have a shaved head and wire-rimmed glasses. Now I have a hair and different glasses).

But when we left the immigration building, we still had one more feat to accomplish: get across the huge public square outside the immigration building and into a taxi.

During the day, this square is filled with all sorts of people. Families. Shoppers. People selling stuff. At night, the place is barely even lit. And instead of being populated by "normal" folks, it's populated by night time solicitors. Illegal taxi drivers who sidle up to you and whisper, "Taxi, miss? Taxi" Women with their babies in their arms who flank you on either side, keeping pace with your fast walking, speaking in low and tired voices of their need for money. Old men with missing limbs try to solicit change.

We managed to make it through the square without giving away any money, and I flagged down a taxi (too late for buses -- they stop running around 11:00). I fell into the backseat and told the driver where to go. I was too tired to even be embarrassed about speaking bad Chinese. The driver understood me, so all was well.

By the time that D and I got home, it was close to 1:00 am. Needless to say, we had a celebratory drink!