Snoozing on the Shanghai subway

As some of you might be aware, I'm afflicted with a chronic condition which I call MVIN - or Moving-Vehicle-Induced-Narcolepsy. I've fallen asleep on planes, trains, cars, taxis, buses, ferries and tuk-tuks all over the world. More precisely, I find it virtually impossible to stay awake. My greatest achievement to date was to fall asleep on a very brief sawngthaew trip in Thailand, hugging my big backpack as I shared the hard wooden bench seat with about 20 locals, some chickens and a wild boar .

So now I found myself, blissfully, in China - a land where it is perfectly permissible to fall asleep anywhere, and at anytime. You can fall asleep whilst waiting for your lunch to be served in a restaurant. You can fall asleep whist waiting for some customers to come into your shop. It's okay to pull over slightly to the side of the road , apply the handbrake and snooze in the front seat of your car. The Chinese have discovered that parking your motorbike on the footpath and reclining on the seat is, indeed, an ideal way to catch a bit of shut-eye. Buses and taxis provide endless opportunities for locals to catch up on some sleep before work, or after a long day at the office. I have fallen in love China's embrace of the humble kip.

A sign at the Jjiangsu subway station proudly proclaims that spitting, smoking, urinating and dropping rubbish are all forbidden on the subway; a welcome oasis from the sanitary standards of greater Shanghai. At 3RMB a pop (AU$0.50), the subway is a clean, air-conditioned, efficient and hassle-free way to get around town. When Fletch was in Shanghai in 2006, there were 2 subway lines - that has since expanded to 8 lines which stretch like a cobweb to every corner of the massive city. The subway was our primary means of transport during our 6 day stay in Shangers - the two waiguoren joining the millions of other Shanghaiense traversing the city's underground network. During peak hour, I would often 'lose' Fletchie amongst the heaving crowd, fortunately he is a tad taller than the average Chinaman so it didn't take long to 'find' him and swim towards him again.

But back to the snoozing. There are only about 20 seats lining the walls of the subway trains - unless you're one of the lucky few, chances are that it'll be standing room only for your entire journey. The inside of the carriages resemble a kid's jungle gym, with steel bars assembled in various directions for travellers to grab onto as the train lurches through the subway like an snake with a limp. People rush on and off as the doors slide open impatiently at each station.. The brakes squeal around bends, passengers jolt and sway in an awkward dance, and there is always someone who wants to try out every single one of their mobile phone's polyphonic ringtones at top volume. It would seem an utterly impossible place to sleep. Unless you are Chinese.

The challenge was set by Fletchie on our final subway trip in Shanghai. I had watched in awe, trip after trip, as passengers nodded off all around me as they stood clutching the cheese graters , their knees slightly bent to enhance their balance, their heads drooped into their chests, their eyes closed peacefully and their breathing the slow and steady rhythm of someone who is deep in sweet slumber. Fletchie and I would often chat in hushed whispers, so as not to "disturb the growing grass". Shhhhh.

"Reecey - we have 7 stops 'til we arrive at Jiangsu station. Bet you can't fall asleep standing up?"

It was all the motivation I needed to attempt the impossible. I linked my fingers around the top of the jungle gym, allowed my body to relax and gently closed my eyes. For the first time in my life, I had to actively will myself to fall asleep on a moving vehicle. A few minutes passed, and despite the efforts of Fletchie as my anti-cheerleader ("Sleep Reecey, sleep! You can do it Reecey!") I slipped slowly out of wakefulness. The background noises merged into an incomprehensible mumble, and I became oblivious to the human baton change occuring as we stopped at various stations. I even grew delightfully ignorant of the waft coming from armpits of the handsome man next to me, which were a bit on the bugle (sorry Fletchie!). And it took me more than a few seconds to react when that same man pinched me on the bottom, dragging me from the periphery of consciousness to let me know that - miracle of miracles - two seats had become available!!

I stumbled across and plonked down in the seat next to Fletch. Now, this was child's play. With still 4 stops left until we would arrive at our destination, I rested my head against Fletchie's shoulder and snoozed soundly on the Shanghai subway. I even had a little dream about flying, which ended abruptly when our plane - errr, train - slid into the station and Fletch woke me up with a nudge. We had arrived at Jiangsu station, and I had achieved the unachievable!

I may have been slightly fuzzy- headed, but I swear the little old lady sitting next to me gave me a slight nod of respect as we squeezed past her out of the train doors. Or perhaps, she was just nodding off to sleep.