This trip to Hangzhou, what can I say about it? The road wasfull of twists and turns. Just as I felt lost deep in the mountain, I saw a light in the dark. Toke, for example, how I left Zhejiang University for the railway station. When we came out of No. 15 Building in Zhejiang University, a fellow schoolmate led us in the wrong way. As we hurried to the school gate, we just caught sight of No. 16 Bus roaring by. (We needed to take No. 16 bus,then change to No. 52 to go to the station. ) We could do nothing but walk to the change stop No. 52. It happened that the road was under repair. It had rained all day. Now, if you were passing hy the strut in front of Zhejiang University, you would see three girls struggling forward; deep in the mud with bags on their hacks and umbrellas in their hands. However, the three of them were acting abnormally and singing happily, "Shoes worn out, hats worn out, robes wornout,..."!

 

　　To make a long story short. when we got to the No 52 stop, it was already eleven sharp. We waited and waited. Thirty minutes later, a No 52 pulled up, shily. Cheering I dashed onto it and fell on a seat. Closing my eyes, I intended to have a wonderful sleep. As I was dozing off, to sleep,I was wakened by the sold "Get off, Get off! This is the last stop."I opened my eyes and looked around. Tall buildings were everywhere. There was no sight of the railway station. "Why get off when we haven‘t reached the stop?

 

　　"Here is the last stop. Get off and change to No 51. " he said. There was nothing we could do but walk on and on. At last, Bus No. 51 was in sight and was starting to move. We raced desperately to it. After all our feet No. 11 could not surpass No; 51. Looking closely at the sign, the last bus was to leave at 23:45.Looking at my watch,I saw that it was exactly 23:43. At this time, my heart was doing the movement familiar to you and me the free fall. What to do? A taxi passed by. We jmnped in it without hesitation. The driver took advantage of our difficult situation and opened his lion‘s mouth by asking us each to pay 10 yuan. Feeling our pockets we were shy. Poor students could not afford it. The heartless driver drove us off. Standing under the stop sign, we watched cars and buses pass by, one by one. Time passed by. At long last a trolley bus pulled up slowly. Aha, it was No. 51. Long live No. 51! I love you!

 

　　Come to think of it, if No. 51 had not come, and with no city map on me, I would have had a taste of the life of a pauper and slept the street. Maybe it would not be bad.