I had originally intended to do a tour out to the Great Wall today, but certain (yes you, BBC) weather sites had been telling me all week that it was going to rain. This turned out to be complete nonsense and I was greeted by a glorious sunny morning when I rose this morning after a challenging nights sleep at my new digs.
I’d booked a dorm room at a hostel close to Tiananmen Square, based largely on good reviews of their Great Wall tours. I haven’t done a dorm room for a very long time, but I’d realised that I had been both wasting cash and missing the opportunity to meet people by insisting on private rooms for my recent travels. So, despite the fact that I am gainfully employed on a pretty decent salary, have a per diem for this trip that I’ve barely touched, and had spent the last two nights in what claimed to be a five star hotel, I happily checked in to my A$10 a night room.
This didn’t go quite to the original plan though. I’d assumed that I would be able to take my leave from the conference at about 6pm, get changed and head over to my hostel. Instead, my boss and I were invited out to dinner by the representatives of an agency of the Chinese government, who were keen, it appeared, to use our services. This was a very strange experience – a ‘proper’ Chinese business meal complete with private room, dozens of dishes and dozens of toasts for which I was expected to down a shot of very potent smelling rice spirit. I pretended to drink this for the first few shots then outright refused once my juice arrived. My boss, meanwhile, was downing this petrol-like substance throughout the meal, as required by protocol. Our hosts (two men and five women) had evidently done copious research in preparation for this meeting and knew about as much about our company as I did, which was a little unnerving, especially as we’d only become aware of their existence that morning and still weren’t sure what they did. They were also very knowledgeable about the industry and drilled us for a solid couple of hours, only finally letting us go when it became clear that my boss was about to pass out into his shark fin soup.
Anyway, the upshot of this was that I turned up my hostel wearing a suit not once but twice, the first time when I dropped off my bags before dinner and again afterwards. I got some very odd looks, as you’d expect and did no end of harm to my traveller cred.
The challenging nature of the night related to the quality of the bedding. I’d heard some complaints about the hardness of the beds at the allegedly five star hotel the conference was held at. They were nothing compared to the plywood and inch and a bit of cheap foam that I spent the night on. Actually it wasn’t too bad, and was arguably pretty good for me, as long as I slept on my back. I tend to be pretty noisy when I sleep on my back though so I’m not sure the other people in the dorm would have appreciated it too much.
The hostel is pretty cool though. It has a good vibe and a great restaurant/bar/lounge complete with wide screen tv and sound system. The staff are very friendly and it’s about a ten minute walk from Tiananmen Square, in a Hutong area. They weren’t kidding when they noted on their website that ‘our street is under construction’ – the place is a bombsite! I actually don’t mind it though – it is pretty interesting to watch the workers doing their thing and it introduces a significantly random element to the area which I appreciate.
The bombsite outside my hostel

So, back to Saturday morning. I walked over to Qianmen, at the southern end of Tiananmen Square, before another wander through the square itself. On this glorious sunny morning, it was teeming with people, many of whom were in the world’s longest queue, waiting to see Uncle Mao. I don’t like big queues at the best of times, and queuing up to see the pickled remains of ultimately maniacal demogogues really isn’t my thing. Anyway, I’d missed Uncle Ho in Hanoi so it only seemed fair to avoid Uncle Mao as well. Here’s a picture of just one section of the aforementioned queue though.
Queuing up to see Uncle Mao

A quick ride on the subway took me around to the Lama Temple, the largest Tibetan Buddist temple in town and somewhere I’d been advised to check out by someone I met a while ago who used to work in the embassy here. This consisted of a series of largely identical temples lined up one behind the other. I’m glad I persisted to the final one though (there were about half a dozen) as the reward was an 18 metre tall Buddha, carved (according to the Guinness Book of Records plaque affixed outside) out of a single piece of sandalwood. I’m not sure what a sandalwood tree looks like, but it would have to be up there with the Californian redwoods in terms of size for this claim to be true, unless there’s some other definition of ‘one piece’ that I’m not aware of. Regardless, it is an impressive piece of work.
Big Buddha

Guinness Certificate

The temple is at the edge of a large hutong area which I proceeded through, in search of a guidebook-recommended t-shirt shop, on my way to Jingshan Park, which promised sweeping views over the Forbidden City. The gear on offer at the t-shirt shop was really good, though by no means cheap, and I left with a new t-shirt and a poster that is going to be a pain to carry home and expensive to frame. This hutong is a lovely area with some great shopping, bars and restaurants. The Beijing Downtown hostel is right in the middle of it and may be worth checking out next time I’m in town.
Jingshan Park delivered on its promise, with some awesome views down over the Forbidden City and around the rest of the city as well.
Forbidden City from Jingshan Park

Another Forbidden City shot

Later on, after a shower and an after-lunch nap back at the hostel, I set off in search of the last remaining section of the Ming-era city wall, which I’d studied briefly in my Cities and Technology course a couple of years ago. This was worth the trip and I wandered the length of the very pleasant park that had been built along the southern side, right down to the southeastern tower, which promised more views over the city. Sadly, this was just closing as I got there so I continued on my way.
Ming wall

I had arranged with the Kiwis to meet at an expat bar in the embassy area to watch the Bledisloe Cup match from Sydney, and kick-off time was now rapidly approaching so I began looking for a taxi.
As I was just around the back of Beijing train station, it quickly became clear that this was not going to be straightforward, so I thought I would head over to the train station where all the taxis were heading.
With the benefit of hindsight, I can see what a bad idea this was. Beijing train station is really more of a vortex of humanity than a normal train station and the taxi queue was far too long to contemplate. The ticket queue at the subway station was similarly daunting and I was beginning to despair of getting to the game at all. I finally found another entrance to the subway though and after some ‘Chinese queuing’ (walking straight to the front of the queue and shoving my money through the window) I got a ticket and was on my way.
Beijing Railway Station

My new plan was to get off at the nearest station to the bar I was heading to, which was across the road from the Workers Stadium. Little did I know that there was a large concert tonight at the stadium, and it was quickly clear that there were no taxis for me here either. I reluctantly followed the crowds headed for the stadium, past dozens of offers of tickets, glow sticks and binoculars.
I had changed into my new t-shirt and had noticed earlier that I was getting a few more stares than normal. This became even more pronounced as I made my way through the crowds, and I began to suspect that what I thought was an ironically amusing message was in fact something else entirely (it’s in Chinese, of course, so I have no actual idea what it says).
The description of the message I was wearing is this (from their website):
Second Hand Drugs – This is an illegal sticker advert found on the streets of Beijing. Call the number if you have any pharmaceutical drugs lying around the house you don’t need and sell them. They’ll be repackaged and sold again.
Given the volume of stares this was generating, I won’t be wearing it to the airport.
I finally found the expat bar, just a little after kick-off, and while it was a great game, I won’t say I enjoyed it as, even though it went down to the wire, we lost by a solitary point.
As soon as the game ended, the TV was switched to another game, involving willow and leather, that as of very recently I no longer have any interest in, so I quickly took my leave.
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Beijing - August 2009