So, I mentioned recently that I had enjoyed a day I Shanghai last year and that that was partly (largely) due to a trip we took on the Maglev Train to Pudong Airport which is itself a stunning bit of architecture by the way.
I had intended to use the train on that particular day but hadn’t been able to ascertain exactly where the station was in town. On a previous day I had entered a Shanghai subway station and attempted to find the Maglev line on the map but not only was it impossible to communicate with any station staff; we had not a common word between us, even “Maglev” drew a blank expression, but neither the station in question nor the line appeared on the map. The only thing I came away with was another packet of delicious little dried fish. I came to the conclusion that the organisers don’t want to make a big deal of it at the moment. Having travelled on it I can see why, I reckon it would be inundated with thrill hunters who would be justified in travelling half way round the world purely to sample what must be the fastest land speed available for a six pound return ticket.
So having failed to find the station we took the easy option the following morning and asked the doorman at the hotel to sort us out with a taxi to the maglev terminus. This he did and a half hour of interesting cab ride later we arrived in a quiet part of town that featured some large expanses of grass surrounded by new housing, in the middle of which was what could be nothing other than a station for some kind of futuristic transport. There was an eerily low amount of activity, but somehow that didn’t matter, there was a real air of expectation about the place. About forty feet above the ground there was a hundred or so meters of what appeared to be a large “slinky”. Projecting from one end of this there was the concrete track, no sign of a train. The entrance to the station was beneath the slinky where we stepped on to an escalator. At the top we found the place to be almost deserted but the ticket window had a girl behind it. We bought first class tickets because it wasn’t going to be every day that I got to ride on this thing (and also it cost next to nothing). Having passed through the barrier we caught first site of the shiny projectile. It looked very relaxed, like it was taking things all in it’s stride. I remember going to a Lennox Lewis fight, he had that same aura about him before knocking his poor opponent about most effectively.
I have to confess I was excited. I had wondered if I would ever travel on a train that ran using electromagnetism since a physics class when I was thirteen when a sheet of metal had shot across four feet of desk. The teacher had reckoned that we might.
Inside it was like any brand new train except that it was a bit wider and was obviously not mass produced. The seating, for example had an amateurishness about it, like something from a Thunderbirds set, that made the whole thing even wackier.
There was only a handful of passengers. We went to the front where we found the drivers cockpit door open and no one there. No levers, no steering wheel, a couple of screens a few buttons and a mouse were all the consul comprised.
Tempting though that mouse had been, we were installed back in the carriage when we started to move. I couldn’t stay in one seat, I kept trying different ones. The trip takes 8 minutes, most of which is taken up with accelerating and decelerating with a minute and half or so of top speed: 430 kmph (270 mph). There is a speedo above the door between carriages, if it hadn’t been for the awesome spectacle through the windows, that in itself would have been mesmerising. By the time it showed 431 kph I was giddy. I had my picture taken under it and the previously demure Chinese businessmen, the only other occupants of the carriage, started to do the same thing. Outside there was a motorway, we were passing cars travelling parallel with us two hundred miles an hour slower than us. The track banks for turns and you look down on the bizarre sight of that slow motion world.
At the airport we had a very nice cup of tea and skipped back on board the train. This trip was just as much fun. The thing I will remember about the return journey though was the experience of another train coming the other way. On your Intercity 125 your leisurely progress is punctuated by the occasional thump and three of four second woosh as people leaving the place you are going to pass you by on there way to where you have been; I have to say that I find even that quite exciting. However, to be sitting at a table (possibly drinking coffee and reading the magazine of your choice) travelling at 240 miles per hour when you are passed by a train doing the same speed coming the other way is a jolt that induces a split second of full body terror followed by a big grin (well in me anyway).
