Riding Beijing's labyrinth

It was 7:45 am on a bright and sunny morning when I got my glimpse of something resembling a sardine can, rolling into the Communication University of China station on the Batong line. The doors opened and an endless queue of nervous and twitching faces waited impatiently while a handful of passengers got off. And then it was chaos. I found myself pushed, knocked, and squeezed into my tin grave while a bulky subway worker used brute force to ram ever more travelers on, until the doors closed with an ear piercing beep and we all breathed out. There I was, now officially a sardine riding the rails under one of the world's most populous cities.

While Beijing's subways might be overcrowded, at least compared to my home city of Philadelphia, these crowded trains provide a great service for the city's residents. For a mere two yuan you can whisk yourself around the city with reliable precision; something that cannot be said of above ground travel on Beijing's overcrowded roads. I would always rather be pressed against the public than pressed for time as bickering drivers scream and yell, unaware of queues forming behind.

When I first visited in Beijing three years ago the subway system was just a shadow of what we have today. At that time, there were only Lines 1 and 2 and the system failed to be a viable relief for Beijing's public transport problems. Since then however, seven lines - including the airport express - have been added to Beijing's subway operations and the numbers of riders have soared into the millions every day. With even more lines planned, Beijing's subway network is not only quickly becoming a vast labyrinth under the bustling city above but also a pragmatic way to reduce transport pressures.