Chapter 156: 155, Kunming Guangzhou Airport Joins International Routes, Arrival In Kolkata
Half an hour later, the refueled Boeing 247 took off again.
The airplane flew across Guangxi, and the Shiwan Mountains below drew the attention of everyone inside the aircraft.
This was the most insurmountable natural barrier, completely different from other places.
The mountains in Northern China, though steep, gave way to plains beyond.
The hills in the middle Yangtze River basin were not high but stretched endlessly.
Here, however, the two combined; as far as the eye could see, there were nothing but mountains, one after another, with no end in sight.
This unique terrain left the passengers in awe.
Gu Xingzuo sighed, “Everyone says the Southwest is all mountains. I thought it was just a figure of speech—could it really be steeper than the Great Wall area? But it’s so vast.”
Zhao Jiu scoffed, “That’s because you’ve been to too few places. The Southwest has many mountains; how can you compare them to the mountains on Northern China’s plains.”
Dai Shimiao countered, “The Qinling Mountains are huge, and the Greater Khingan Mountains in the Northeast are not small either.”
Bai Zeshan, who had been reading a book, suddenly interjected: “I see that the Central Plains provinces are already defenseless. Only the Yangtze River, Yellow River, and Qinling Mountains can hold back the Japanese. If the Yangtze and Yellow Rivers fail, then the only place nationwide that can resist the Japanese army is here.”
“Come here? What for?” Flight attendant Cheng Dayou asked puzzled.
The others shared the same thought. Though the Southwest’s mountains made it easy to defend and hard to attack, supplies were extremely scarce. Besides defense, what else could be done? Counterattacking Japan in the future would probably be impossible.
Fang Wen listened to these conversations from the cockpit; he was pondering the matter too.
Could it be that in the future, they’d just watch as large numbers of people fled to the Southwest region, relying on aviation to solve the supply shortages?
He didn’t know either. If that was the only way, then he’d expand international flights and strengthen them, keeping this air route delivering supplies nonstop to Domestic China.
Another three hours of flight time passed.
The Boeing 247 flew over Guangxi’s Shiwan Mountains and arrived in Kunming, Yunnan.
It was now 12:30 p.m.
Here, the airplane would rest for an hour and a half, mainly so Fang Wen could visit the Provincial Government to meet Chairman Long Yun and negotiate using this route for international flight paths.
Meanwhile, the airplane’s passengers and other crew members went to a tavern outside the airport to enjoy some local Yunnan dishes.
Fang Wen got off the airplane, boarded the military vehicle that came to pick him up, and headed to the Kunming Provincial Government.
The car drove along the streets as Fang Wen surveyed the city.
There were gentlemen in Zhongshan suits and round caps, as well as ragged poor people, but mostly ordinary folk dressed plainly yet with decent complexions.
There were also soldiers inside the city maintaining order.
Fang Wen also spotted defensive buildings on the bridgeheads equipped with machine gun firing ports.
And rows of utility poles.
All this gave him the feeling that life here wasn’t worse than in the Central Plains—in fact, because of its isolation, it was doing quite well.
People could eat their fill, the city had widespread electricity, and the security was good, showing that the local managers knew their stuff.
With these thoughts, he felt a bit more anticipation for the meeting with the local officer.
The car entered the Provincial Government compound, and the officer led Fang Wen into the two-story small building in the center.
There, many people were waiting, all there to see him.
Fang Wen checked his wristwatch and said quietly, “Could you let them know in advance? I can only stay a little over an hour, or we’ll arrive in Kolkata after dark, and landing could be dangerous.”
The officer nodded and knocked before going inside.
After a moment, he came out and said, “Follow me.”
He was then led into the room, where an introduction was made: “Taishan Airlines General Manager Fang Wen wishes to see you.”
The man behind the large desk set down his pen and looked at Fang Wen.
He smiled faintly: “Fang Wen, it’s been half a year since we last met. Your company is growing stronger; now you’re even running international flights.”
“It’s all thanks to everyone’s support that we’ve reached this point,” Fang Wen replied with a smile.
“I hear you can’t stay long, so let’s get to the point.”
“It’s about international flights. I’d like to route through Kunming to go abroad, to Kolkata.”
“No problem. I can agree, but you must bring us a batch of supplies every month.”
Fang Wen hadn’t expected such simple terms. Trading part of international flight carrying capacity for secure passage here was a good deal.
He gladly agreed and then left by car.
Now Guangzhou Airport and Yunnan Airport were both sorted; the domestic segment of international flights was fully resolved. It all depended on negotiations abroad.
Fang Wen returned to the airport by car; the others had already finished lunch.
He hadn’t eaten yet, so he had the shop prepare two dishes to tide him over.
After lunch, he remembered something and made a special reminder.
“We’ll overnight in Kolkata tonight. There are lots of mosquitoes at night, and hygiene for food needs attention. I personally suggest you avoid eating outside as much as possible. There’s food stocked on the airplane; if you’re hungry at night, come find me.”
After the reminder, Fang Wen got two packs of Yiliang roast duck to go from the shop, for tonight’s dinner.
Then he led the team to board and continued the flight.
The airplane climbed and flew southwest; this leg was 1,500 kilometers, exceeding the Boeing 247’s maximum normal range.
But this Boeing 247 had an enlarged fuel tank, and under Fang Wen’s mechanical perception ability at the controls, there’d be no issues like deviation.
Over four hours later, the airplane finally landed at Kolkata Airport.
Flight attendant Cheng Dayou opened the hatch and announced warmly: “We’ve arrived in Kolkata. Passengers, please disembark.”
The moment the hatch opened, a wave of heat poured into the airplane.
The passengers, who hadn’t felt hot during the flight, suddenly found it hard to adjust.
“Why is it so hot? Didn’t feel it up in the sky,” Zhao Jiu said puzzled.
Fang Wen explained: “That’s because we’re flying above 3,000 meters altitude. The temperature outside is low, so of course you don’t feel the heat.”
“There’s such a thing?” Zhao Jiu was amazed. So what the elders said was true: the higher you go, the cooler it gets.
Fang Wen’s words made the passengers realize the local climate wasn’t great, but lured by exotic vibes, they still wanted to go out and see.
To their request, Fang Wen replied: “Wait a bit. I have something to do first, then I’ll take you out.”
With that, he led the passengers off the airplane to find their contact.
This time, the contact in Kolkata was Shao Sishen.
Fang Wen spotted Shao Sishen’s limping figure from afar and hurried over.
He asked with concern: “Shao Sishen, have you adapted to life abroad this month?”
“I grew up in South Asia as a kid, so of course I’m adapted,” Shao Sishen replied with a smile.
The two continued talking.
“I went to Yangon, and as soon as I mentioned building an airport, the local Chinese people were all for it and willing to help. With their assistance, I’ve reached an agreement here in Kolkata for airport construction. They’re also building a road between Yangon Airport and the port to facilitate supply transport.”
“How’s the international flight negotiation going here in Kolkata?”
“For international flights, they suggest negotiating with Delhi together. I was planning to take a boat down the Ganges River, but now that your airplane’s here, I can hitch a ride to Delhi.”
“Great. We’ll head out first thing tomorrow morning. Oh, the people who flew here this time all want to see Kolkata’s exotic atmosphere. I’ve never left the airport here, so how about you be the tour guide?”
Hearing this, Shao Sishen readily agreed: “No problem. First, arrange lodging, then head out.”
Then Shao Sishen called over his family’s manager sent to help, arranged local guards to watch the airplane, settled everyone in the airport residence, and only then led the group out.
Unlike the previous two times, Shao Sishen led the group strolling Kolkata’s streets, explaining local customs and vibes.
“From 1772 to 1911, for 140 years, this was the capital of British India. You could say this city was the center of education, science, culture, and politics in British India.”
At this point, Shao Sishen pointed to a building complex.
“Look over there. That’s Victorian-style architecture. This style is common in Kolkata, coexisting with other religious buildings.”
From this angle, contemporary Kolkata was much like Shanghai—both thriving metropolises of the era.
But it had another side.
Shao Sishen led them to the other end of the city: vast slums, people sleeping outdoors naked, children begging along the streets.
“This is Kolkata’s scar: the poor, the low-caste people, who can only live here.”
“What do they live on?” Gu Xingzuo asked puzzled.
Zhao Jiu replied: “Begging, coolie labor, robbery at night. Let’s go see the nice sights; this dirties the eyes.”
These were things Zhao Jiu had experienced before; he had no interest in these foreign poor and felt no pity.
At his suggestion, Shao Sishen led the group to Kolkata’s wealthy district.
There were mostly British people: officers in military uniforms, gentlemen businessmen in tailcoats and top hats, noblewomen in pleated skirts walking tiny dogs.
They greeted each other politely, tipping their hats.
And in this wealthy district was the cleanest food around: a British-style restaurant.
Led by Shao Sishen, the group arrived outside a restaurant.
It was lively, with many people chatting on the street outside, mostly officers.
“This is the Navy Restaurant, opened by a retired naval officer. Their ingredients come by sea, pricey but safe to eat,” Shao Sishen introduced.
“Really?” The passengers were delighted. On their first stop abroad, skipping foreign food would be no fun.
Even Zhao Jiu and flight attendant Cheng Dayou were eager to try.
Thinking of the importance of the flight and his aversion to Indian food, Fang Wen was the only one to decline.
He held up his oiled paper package of Yiliang roast duck: “I’ll go with you, but I’ll eat this.”
Then the group entered the “Navy Restaurant.”
The interior was decent, not noisy. A waiter approached from afar and asked softly: “Are you here for a meal?”
“Yes. Table for seven,” Shao Sishen replied.
“Please follow me.”
Led by the waiter, Fang Wen’s group reached the inner room: an ornate private dining room.
The waiter explained: “Sorry, too many guests today. If you’re willing to pay a 10% tip, I can arrange for you to dine here.”
“Fine,” Fang Wen agreed.
Then everyone sat down to order.
The waiter listed the dishes.
“Today’s dishes include potato beef pie, sausage mashed potatoes, sheep offal pudding, fried fish, french fries.”
The last two were unchanging signature dishes; the first three changed daily.
For guests from China, there wasn’t much choice.
Zhao Jiu said boldly: “Just order everything. Whoever wants what can pick it; add more if needed.”
Good idea; everyone agreed.
Soon, all the dishes arrived.
The semicircular large pie, cut open with a dinner knife, revealed chunks of filling inside: black beef, yellow potato chunks.
Sausage mashed potatoes, as the name implied: a plate of mashed potatoes with two sausages.
Fried fish and french fries were generous: thick golden fries, small palm-length fish fried crispy.
The most distinctive was the sheep offal pudding.
A famous dish from the waiter’s hometown in Scotland, so he introduced the preparation solemnly.
Sheep innards—sheep heart, trachea, liver, lungs—chopped, mixed with suet, onion, oatmeal, salt, parsley, black pepper, and other seasonings, stuffed into the sheep stomach, tied with rope, and boiled for hours.
To eat, slice open the stomach with a dinner knife, and the contents flow out across the plate.
The taste was fine, but the moment the stomach was cut, the gush of granular matter was a bit off-putting.
Of course, this sheep offal was completely different from China’s.
Faced with the table of food, Fang Wen didn’t touch any.
Before eating, Shao Sishen chatted with the waiter and lost his appetite.
He warned: “Sorry, folks, the owner here has sold out; now it’s run by locals. Better not eat it.”
“No problem, these look edible,” Zhao Jiu replied.
Flight attendant Cheng Dayou and the three passengers nodded in agreement.
“Then you eat; I’m not,” Shao Sishen said helplessly.
Fang Wen couldn’t help laughing: “Shao Sishen, you’re not particular—bringing everyone here but not eating yourself.”
“General Manager, I warned you. If anyone gets an upset stomach, don’t blame me; it’s just discomfort, won’t kill you. General Manager, how about sharing half your roast duck?”
“Sure. This is Kunming’s Yiliang roast duck; the boss who sold it to me said it’s good.”
Fang Wen took out the Yiliang roast duck, unwrapped the oiled paper package, and gave Shao Sishen a portion.
The two tore off small pieces and ate with relish.
Crispy skin, tender inside.
Everyone in the room ate their own and found it good.
An hour later, after dinner, the group returned to the airport.
As everyone prepared to rest, Fang Wen fetched a large bag of mugwort from the airplane, distributed it for burning to repel mosquitoes at night, and gave each a bottle of Feng You Jing as backup.
That night, Fang Wen slept in his clothes; with preparations complete, it was tolerable.
But in the latter half of the night.
Muffled groans came from next door, one after another.
Then one by one, they left their rooms to handle personal issues.
One night in Kolkata passed.
Fang Wen got up, stretched, and woke the others.
Shao Sishen came out first, then flight attendant Cheng Dayou on duty, followed by Zhao Jiu.
Flight attendant Cheng Dayou and Zhao Jiu were okay; the three passengers were the ones who hadn’t slept all night.
Zhao Jiu had to admire the local food: “Impressive, impressive. I’ve eaten everything under the sun growing up, yet I got taken down here. Mr. Shao, you’re not straightforward—recommending such tasty stuff to us but not eating it yourself.”
Shao Sishen looked embarrassed: “I warned you; who told you not to believe me.”
Fang Wen intervened: “Enough bickering. Today we fly straight to Tehran. Persia’s delicacies will suit you perfectly. Take the anti-diarrheal meds and board.”
