By the way, a huge shout out to my peeps at the Holiday Inn Urumqi. Battie, Constance, Trainee, I love you guys. These folks went above and beyond the call of duty helping me get a train ticket to Kashgar, and I’m not even a guest at their hotel.
Not that they need to know I’m not a guest. Maybe they do know. My lie was a lie of omission, not commission, which isn’t a lie at all, if you ask me. Which they didn’t.
Then there’s Michael, who met me after he got off work and escorted me all the way across town to the ticket office. Michael, you are da bomb.
Please don’t tell Michael I’m not a guest.
And a final thanks to the restaurant staff, who ran around fetching hot water to refill my now skanky Fuguang cup.
Part of me feels that it is the right, nay, the duty, of every backpacker to occasionally drop in on the lobby of a luxury hotel. Rattle the class system a little; savor the muzak; befoul the bathroom; muss the cushions; swipe a free newspaper and some fruit; and just generally test the hospitality. Hotels, after all, are part of the hospitality industry. If no one is around to enjoy all the hospitality being manufactured, it just goes to waste.
I considered getting breakfast at the Holiday Inn restaurant as a token of gratitude for the hotel’s services. But cornflakes and eggs cost $11, which, when adjusted for purchasing power parity (PPP) in China, is roughly equivalent to $25,000.
So instead I deigned to have a cup of coffee in the hotel bar. I’m sure Constance, Battie, Trainee, and Michael are delighted I wasted hours of their precious time and then threw a few dollars toward the bottom line of InterContinental Hotels Group International.
Keep it real, guys.
