As our time in Vietnam winds down, we are trying to use our remaining days to visit friends throughout the region. Over the four day weekend at the end of April/beginning of May (Vietnamese Independence Day/May Day), we got to spend four gloriously sunny days in Beijing. Our friends who serve at the Embassy describe Beijing weather as dry sandstorms in the spring, an oven in the summer, and a damp freezer during the winter. Not much evidence of it during our visit when we experienced beautiful, spring-like conditions, complete with flowering trees. Maybe they’ve been making it all up to justify their hardship pay. OK, maybe one day it got thick and hazy, but not so bad.
We stayed at one of the best hotels we have yet experienced – the Opposite House, a stylish and chic boutique hotel in the heart of a newly developed shopping and nightlife area on Sanlitun, near the diplomatic district. Sleek rooms, with lots of wood. Shower was like a Nordic sauna. Excellent dining and, best of all, a free mini-bar. We’d come home stuffed from eating with friends and I’d raid the bar for cookies, just because I could. It’s amazing what can get you excited.
Of course, we did manage to pull ourselves away from the free Toblerone bars to do some sightseeing. Primarily, an outing to the Great Wall. Though I had frequently seen photos of the Wall and should have known better, in my mind, I always pictured softly undulating hills parading off into the horizon. In actuality, it’s closer to a bunch of craggy peaks. We again had a beautiful, clear day as the Beijing haze lifted when the sun reached its apex. Though warm, a nice breeze blew as we took a 10k hike on a part of the wall in a sparsely populated area 80 miles northeast of Beijing, separating historical China from Inner Mongolia. Along with serious trekkers, such as ourselves, we encountered many Chinese families out enjoying the holiday weekend. Kids playing, adults walking dogs, women struggling along the crumbling stone in high-heels. The crowds cleared out after a guard house or two as the wall soared uphill in less well-maintained areas. In a few flat areas, we strolled, but we also had to contend with several areas of dozens of steps marching upward and exposed to winds or we had to scramble down other areas filled with rocky scree.
The Forbidden City most certainly did not live up to its name on the holiday weekend, when it opened its doors wide for tens of thousands of holidaying Chinese, plus me and our friends Mark and Terri. In scope, it’s quite remarkable and I tried to picture how this collection of buildings from the Ming and Qing empires must have towered over the capital, and, indeed, the country. Now, however, it appears that many of the buildings are empty inside and, instead, we got an up-close look at the burgeoning middle-class milling about the grounds, taking photographs, grabbing snacks, and trying to stay out of the mid-afternoon sun.
The morning before our departure, we visited the Temple of Heaven, the park surrounding which is a paradise for the retired. When we arrived at 9 am, the area was jam-packed with the over 70-crowd, busy at a number of activities: dominoes, cards (men’s games, women’s games and mixed), dancing (traditional, central Asian, big band), singing (modern, Chinese opera), calligraphy, calisthenics. Groups enjoying one musician blended in to those listening to an opera performance 15 feet away, yet everyone seemed happy enjoying the spectacle and spending time with friends. I’m not sure how pleasurable it is in the chill of winter or the heat of summer, but it made for a great morning in the spring. The temple, itself, was quite impressive, particularly the Hall of Prayer for Good Harvest, with its bright carvings and paintings towering over the center of the park.
As non-Chinese speakers, we were always on the look out for evidence of English. However, as in my other visits to China, I noted how little English was used. Indeed, when we did see English on signage on the streets or in shops it almost inevitably fell into the category of the bizarre “Chinglish” which makes sense in neither language. By comparison, in Vietnam, many signs look like they’ve been written by someone who studied English as a second language. In China, they seem like they’re written by someone who looked up the words in a dictionary.
We had one or two opportunities to visit areas of Beijing a little bit beyond the primary must-sees. One evening, we joined some friends for a drink at a bar in one of the hutongs, or old, traditional alleys, many (most?) of which have been torn up as city planner creates the new, modern Beijing. Many lament the loss of these communities and the destruction of the city’s history. Others note that these were small, cramped buildings with no heat or indoor plumbing. It’s a trade-off and I hesitate to urge the preservation of the uncomfortable but traditional for my viewing pleasure, though I note that from I’ve read, many Chinese wish that a better balance between the future and the past could be found.
We also spent an afternoon in Dashanze, a former warehouse area transformed into a collection of art galleries, boutiques, and restaurants. It covers several blocks including everything from the traditional to the highly avant garde. Some interesting works of art and some things that I didn’t get. As we wandered around, we joined groups of locals and out-of-towners taking in the artistic scene. I’m not so sure of the artistic purity of the spot, given the large number of knick-knacks on offer, but it certainly had a lively, creative feel.
Thanks to recommendations from friends in Beijing, we ate very well – including dumplings from Taiwan and spicy dishes from the northeast. At one upscale spot seemingly popular with both Beijingers and tourists, we enjoyed roasted duck expertly carved at our table. At the end, the chef split the bird’s head in two and offered me the brains. With all that pressure, I actually ate a bit, though to Liz’s relief I did not immediately go into convulsions. We also ate some terrific noodles at a literal hole in the wall – you have to enter via a courtyard, through the back door of the building and then travel through the tiny kitchen to get to the dining area. Of course, a local chef had highlighted the place in a magazine for Beijing expats, so we can hardly claim to be unique. That said, there are a few places I’m glad we missed, most importantly, the restaurant whose sign said “Beef Noodles to Explode Stomach.” Not sure how many customers that attracts.
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