Out of Hong Kong, On to Beijing

Trains, Planes, Automobiles–and Lots of Swabs

Before leaving home we had booked a COVID test at a Worksite Labs outlet in the International Terminal at San Francisco International Airport (SFO). This was required just to get on the plane to Hong Kong and had to be within 24 hours of our Cathay Pacific nonstop flight, which was to leave SFO at 10:55 pm. Our test appointment was for 9:30 the morning after we arrived in San Francisco. We were staying at the Grand Hyatt SFO located right on the Air Train route around the airport that took us to the International Terminal. And again, after late checkout at 7pm, as we tested negative and good to go to Hong Kong. The MD name stamped on our results: Christopher Reeve.

As previously reported, we got tested again upon arrival in Hong Kong to get the AMBER code that changed to the BLUE CODE after testing on Day 2 (arrival day being Day Zero) and getting the results and release on Day 3. Got that?

Prep for the Mainland

But we had to test again on Day 5 because we were flying into China. For our 4:35 pm flight, we arrived at the airport about 10 am and went straight to our appointment at a place called Project Screen by Prenetics, where we’d booked an appointment online. They apparently specialize in pre-flight testing geared for the mainland. Results were promised within 2-3 hours. Sure enough, we got our negative tests confirmed by email two-and-a half hours later. Therefore, we didn’t need to schlep around and park our two piled high luggage carts anymore: we could check in at Air China. There we needed a permit to fly; to get the permit (pictured below), we were kindly assisted by an airline representative at the desk. We’d downloaded and tried to register on the China Health site but had problems filling it out beyond initial profiles. Was this connected to that? Or just part of airline protocol (we did also get boarding passes and luggage claim tags)? I really, don’t know, but this lady was a godsend.

The Mobile Phone Reigns

And remember, everything–test results, codes, permits–landed on our phones. Last year, when we flew to Israel from Chicago on British Air via London, we got our first taste at filling out online paperwork and entering COVID test results, which were submitted to Israel’s system about 48 hours before departure. This provided some kind of online permit admittance. But our Israeli relatives, who had just returned from Italy, cautioned us to print everything out, in case our phones ran out of battery “juice,” which happened to them and caused them to miss their flight home. When we showed the sheaf of paperwork checking in at British Air, the desk person was extremely grateful she could instantly input our data to check us in with Israel as our final destination. For China, paperwork, other than our passports and visa, would have been useless. Mobile phones are the modus operandi of life.

Intrepid, But Not Without Trepidation

The processes of getting our visas and booking our flights and hotels came relatively easy. We’ve traveled enough that I, the usual travel planner, am pretty good at this. It’s time-consuming and sometimes frustrating, and I worry a little until it all works out, but it doesn’t faze me. In fact, it’s a source of pride that it does work out.

Approaching this trip, though, I must confess to being frightened that we’d be caught in some sort of web of problems. Maybe it was just my travel-planning ego feeling threatened. More likely, it was the proverbial crossing all the T’s and dotting all the I’s of COVID protocols. Jonathan had warned us that both the travel and our stay in Beijing would require us to be flexible (who’s more flexible than a mother whose son has lived in China for 23 years?) and patient (OK, not always my best trait.)

As usual, Eli said we’d get through it together.

On this trip, just before landing in Hong Kong, my fear surfaced again. Not to worry. Upon disembarking we were led through all the procedures on arrival and departure by smiling, helpful personnel. The Peninsula Hotel staff was really informative (I’d corresponded with the front desk on protocols even before I booked), and a concierge accompanied us in a small hotel bus to take us to the test place there.

On the other hand, the reality of encountering the Chinese bureaucracy related to travel in the time of COVID frightened me: would we know where to go, would we fulfill all the requirements, and, most of all, would we continue to test negative? How would it be in Beijing, given the stringent requirements, the horror stories of the past few years, and the ongoing protests making the news? We knew there would be no happy scenes on emerging from the airport arrivals hall, no tour or hotel signs, no family reunions. For us, no Jonathan waiting with his car own car or a driver parked to get us into town. And we really don’t speak Chinese.

CA Flight 112

The helpfulness of the Air China lady at check-in eased our way onto the plane. The sight of the flight attendants in hazmat suits was a little off-putting, but we got it. Definitely a new fashion trend. Though this was business class, there was no free booze, not even soda or juice, as rolling a cart and serving must be a COVID-era no-no. We each did have a wrapped food package containing stale cookies, an orange, and not much else. Who cared? We were on our way! Nervous, but we’d come so far already.

The flight was about two-and-a half hours long. Upon disembarking, about 7:15, we were led along a route into the terminal, as we’d experienced many times before, but this time–before immigration or baggage claim–to yet another testing site. And everyone wore hazmat suits.

Welcome to Beijing

In Hong Kong and China, swabs of the throat, rather than the nose, predominate. We’d first experienced this in Israel in 2021. It’s definitely more comfortable than the giant long-stemmed Q-tips up your nose. However, arriving in Beijing came with a double treat: first the throat, then the nose.

Next, on to immigration. Eli and I were at separate kiosks, and we both had problems. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that there were hardly any westerners arriving. For reasons we couldn’t fathom, even with microscopic examinations of our visas by several officers, we were stuck for a while. Finally, one said to Eli, “Do you know Li Xuebai?” That’s our daughter-in-law’s Chinese name. Apparently, they researched enough on the spot to find information on our application. We got our entry stamps and went on to baggage claim. Or so we thought.

Hurry Up, Wait, Schlep

Instead, we joined other travelers sitting in a holding area so that the number of people claiming baggage would be controlled. Every now and then a new group would be ushered out of this area. Fortunately, there were restrooms alongside it, and permission to go on our own was granted. After about a half-hour it was our turn to join the baggage claim queue, which wasn’t exactly socially distanced. Instead of actual baggage carousels, where we could have gotten carts (free everywhere in the world except the US: $8 now at SFO), everyone’s bags were in a back room with no carts. Given that we had packed everything from REI camper dried food to tuna and paper and plastic utensils and other recommended quarantine items to…little girls’ dresses and books and other gifts, Chanukah candles to…winter clothes for Beijing and summer clothes for Australia and New Zealand, we had four heavy suitcases, two backpacks, and a couple of extra carry-ons–much more luggage than usual for us. Most Chinese travelers have a lot of luggage, especially if they’ve been to a good shopping places like the US or Hong Kong. Our kids? Don’t even ask. We have to rent vans when they’re in States. I have been known to pack cans of gefilte fish and jars of horseradish for Passover before Chabad came to Beijing https://forward.com/news/8606/take-out-chinese-anyone/. But it’s been a while since we’ve had so much heft with us. Minus carts, we latched the smaller items onto the bigger ones and rolled outside to where tour-type buses awaited arriving passengers. A young Chinese woman helped us push the bags into the luggage hold of the bus. Chinese respect for elders paid off.

Holiday Inn Check-in

With the Chinese so paranoid about COVID, it was antithetical to be crammed onto the bus. Eli and I couldn’t even sit together. We were both seated next to forty-something Chinese men, one of whom was with his wife and young son. They were speculating on where we were going. It was probably close to 10 pm, and outside was pitch black. We drove about 25 minutes away from the airport. In which direction we had no clue.

The guys next to us agreed we were headed for a Holiday Inn. Considering that Jonathan had warned us about the possibility of being locked into shoddy apartment buildings, this was a win. Not exactly the Peninsula, but OK.

Check-in took a while, as at least three busloads discharged passengers at the same time. We came in through the ballroom entrance, rather than a main door. Negotiating our documents was a challenge for the hazmatted clerk. We asked for a big room but weren’t sure he understood. Finally, another hazmat led us to the elevator, where we pushed in our luggage. Alighting on the eighth floor, we found a one more hazmat who led us to Room 8888 along a long corridor lined with plastic on the walls and some sort of faux linoleum on top of the regular floor. It was very hard to negotiate our wheeled suitcases on this surface. We got a suite. Once inside, it was all we could do to look around, unpack necessities, take lukewarm showers, and go to sleep.