Early in the morning, I got up, ate a little, and went to the train station. I walked through the subway station and eventually arrived at the KCR depot. I bought my ticket to Lo Wu and was off.

The border was a little stressful, especially because I didn’t yet have a visa for China. On previous trips, I had purchased my visa at the border, and I did so again this time. I paid the rather steep fee of HK$380; it would have been almost HK$700 had I used my U.S. passport. To reach the small visa office, go through security until you reach the mainland China gates, then look to your left and go up the escalator.

While in the visa office, I met a friendly man from Thailand, and we chatted a little about IT. We exchanged details, then went our separate ways when my visa arrived.

Although I had visited China before and was living in Taipei, I still felt slightly uncertain about what to expect. I had been warned that the area around the train depot had many pickpockets. Hong Kong and Shenzhen differ significantly, but they also have many similarities. The first thing I did upon arrival was try to exchange some money. I wandered for a while in search of a bank, without success. I saw a commercial building and went inside, assuming it would have one. No such luck. There was a bank around the corner, but when I handed my traveller’s cheque, which I was using for the first time, to the teller, she looked confused. She examined it for some time before saying, “Oh, I can’t cash cheques.” I explained that it was a traveller’s cheque, which did not help. After speaking with her co-workers, she returned and said, “You should go to the Bank of China. They can cash it.” I followed her directions and eventually found the bank. After waiting in line, I handed the teller my cheque and passport. She cashed it, although the process was clearly laborious. I had not realised how complicated cashing a traveller’s cheque could be: she had to copy my passport and the cheque, complete several forms, and fax some documents. I suppose that is part of what made a cheque more secure than cash.

Money in hand, I went to find my hostel. I found the subway and took Line 4 to the correct stop. Before leaving Taipei, I had drawn an excellent map of the route to the hostel, so I had no trouble finding my way. After checking in, I left my bags in the room and set out to find the UPS depot.

I had not imagined that finding a main UPS depot would be difficult. After getting off at the correct subway stop, I consulted a map whose labels were entirely in Chinese. That was not really a problem: I found the street but wanted to confirm the direction. I went to the information desk. The attendant spoke no English, but I still asked, “Is that the right way?” It was.

I soon found the UPS depot. For anyone wondering why I was in China, I needed to mail my passport to New Zealand so that a working holiday visa could be added, allowing me to stay in Taiwan. I could not simply mail my passport from Taiwan; I had to be outside the country.

At the UPS building, I approached what appeared to be the front door. It was not marked, but it looked more like an entrance than any of the others. I opened it wide and found five women sorting mail, all of whom stopped and looked at me. An unexpected visitor walking directly into the distribution centre was clearly unusual. Oops. I walked around the loading dock, narrowly avoided being run over, and retraced my steps. I asked a man standing near a large UPS sign where to go; he replied, “Two blocks that way.” I walked two blocks without finding anything, then returned to the second loading dock, where a group had gathered for lunch. Since I had already walked past them three or four times, they surely found the situation amusing. I approached, held my package above my head, and said in Chinese, “I want to send this by UPS. Help me!” One of the men led me through an unmarked door. Upstairs, I was greeted by a large UPS sign. Success.

The story wasn’t over. I asked the woman at the desk, hopefully, “Do you speak English?” She replied in Chinese, “Yes, a little.” Communication was still difficult, but I somehow explained what I wanted to do, and she led me downstairs into a small room packed with people and computers. Another helpful woman came out who spoke some English. At last, I packaged my visa application and passport, which was painful to place in an envelope, and sent them on their way. After spending a large portion of my money on shipping, I returned to the hostel.

Back at the hostel, I took a nap and relaxed for a while. I ate some food from the supermarket next door and chatted with the hostel staff. Eventually, I befriended an older French journalist who was living in Guangzhou. We talked about China, life, and plenty besides.

That night, I crawled into bed and slept quite well.