Beijing: Let the Proper Travelling Commence

---

Hong Kong's efficiency continued until the end, with us checking-in and dropping off our bags for our flight to Beijing at the central station. This meant we were free to make the journey to the airport at our leisure, unlaidened by our luggage.

Before the narrative sees us leave Hong Kong altogether, I'm going to shoehorn some thoughts about Hong Kong's MTR system in here:

Upon our arrival in Hong Kong we had purchased an octopus card that allowed three days' unlimited travel on the MTR system and a return journey to the airport. It was the ideal purchase that reflected the convenience of Hong Kong's transport system. While the metro may not have had the almost unnatural cleanliness of the Singapore system, it is up there with the best I have experienced. To be fair I include the Tube in that, although where Hong Kong may have the edge is in the ability for Octopus cards to be used for purchases in outlets all over the city, be it convenience stores or McDonalds. I wonder whether this may be the next step for Oyster cards, or if the development of contactless credit and debit cards with Oyster cards built-in may actually supersede the Octopus system. I can foresee a system where people cease to have Oyster pay-and-go balances, and instead journeys are merely instantly deducted from their bank accounts.

Back to the travel, the flight between Hong Kong and Beijing onboard a China Southern A330-300 was uneventful. It's pretty rare to find yourself in a mere pair of seats while on a wide-bodied aircraft, but thanks to the 2-4-2 layout, that's what we did, having the window to ourselves. It would seem that my sub-conscious flying nerves are also a bit xenophobic. The appearance of safety cards and emergency exits labelled in mandarin as opposed to English eliciting a few more butterflies than normal. Still, the comfort of the flight soon put those uncultured nerves back in their box.

I think a lot of the time it is possible to build a place up in your mind somewhat. Most of the time you find there are far more similarities than differences. Stepping off the plane and onto Chinese tarmac, you're not suddenly forced to swear your allegiance to Mao, use a squat toilet and spit out the contents of your lungs. (That comes later!)

In fact, the biggest difference as we walked through a tired airport terminal that could have been Manchester was the speed and ease at which we passed through passport control and customs. I had 100 times the grief from the authorities in Dubai, where they searched my hand luggage presumably looking for any traces of reasonably priced fun.

The airport express train took us from the airport to town in an express manner, and the metro was like all other metros (except Dubai's) - overcrowded, but ultimately convenient. We could almost be at home...

Well, perhaps if it wasn't for the stares. Certain Chinese people do like to stare at an invading western face, and it something that Sophie and I noticed from the moment we stepped on the Beijing subway. The initial assumption is that we must be something of a novelty. However, China's relative liberalisation and opening of its doors is approaching two decades old. Plus they have had an Olympic Games in that period. Therefore I'm more inclined to believe that any staring is not because western faces are a massive novelty anymore in urban Beijing, and more that cultural differences mean that staring isn't seen as taboo.

Thanks to the well drawn map provided by our hostel, we found our accommodation with ease. We were immediately pleased by the large and busy bar that adorned its frontage. Sophie and I would be spending some time in there as the next few days, and that night for that matter, unfolded.

The hostel was located in a touristy area immediately south of Tiananmen Square. However, it was not so touristy so as to have lost its charm. Think more Portobello Market than Leicester Square. It was a warren of streets and back alleys populated by tea shops, markets and the customary Golden Arches of McDonalds. These streets led to an extremely clean, well paved main street that contained more upmarket fashion shops, hawkers, and the most uniquely situated Starbucks we've encountered yet.

After a few too many 640ml bottles of Tsing Tao beer (and at less than £1, who could blame us?) at the hostel bar, any further exploration that evening was postponed till morning. Although it would however be generous to still call it morning when we ventured back into the bar for some breakfast the next day. Still, with the heartiest breakfast we had consumed all trip under our belts, it was off to Tiananmen Square to make up for lost time.

So what of Beijing's most famous address? Home of the 1989 and many glorious moments in Chinese history. Well, I'd hoped for a square that could compete with Red Square. In my opinion, Moscow's hub is one of the few world city sights that genuinely does deserve the hype. A mix of beauty and power that really conveys the significance of the location to the visitor. Unfortunately, I didn't get quite the same impression from Tiananmen.

Firstly, there is its size. By some counts it is the biggest square in the world. However, I feel the sheer impact of space is lost somewhat by Mao's mausoleum being plonked in the middle. Surely for a square to be a square, you need to be able to see from one diagonal to the other? Notwithstanding this, there is no doubting it is a big old open space. But the best things do not necessarily come in the biggest packages. Those of you will know me for example, will testify that what I may lack in height, I make up in travel-blogging ability. Similarly Red Square is not gargantuan, but it is the nature of the buildings surrounding it that give it its might. For me, the buildings surrounding and contained within Tiananmen didn't feel as significant as perhaps they might. Mao's mausoleum is unsightly, and the buildings to the east and west are sufficiently distant to not give the square an imposing enclosed feel. The exceptions are the gates to the north and south. Qianmen to the south is a perfect example of a Chinese gatehouse, and is flanked by an archers tower. Meanwhile the Tiananmen gate to the Forbidden City in the north is best known by the portrait of Mao that hangs from its centre. It was at this end that the square felt its most iconic. Although it is a shame that traffic runs between the square itself and the Forbidden City.

We posed for photographs around the square, concentrating at its northern end, before formulating a plan for the rest of the day. Having heard that the Forbidden City was at least half a days' affair, we postponed that until the following day, despite our proximity to its entrance. Instead we jumped on the metro and headed to the Temple of Heaven, the former imperial park and worship-ground.

It made for a pleasant afternoon. The Chinese architecture of the various temples in the park was impressive, but more interesting was seeing the locals just hanging out. Their activities ranged from playing keepy-up with shuttlecocks, singing in choirs, or partaking in rowdy games of cards or dominoes.

That evening was to prove a fun one. After a couple of litres of Tsing Tao between us, we ventured from the hostel in search of food and kitsch souvenirs. The first mission was accomplished in a duck restaurant packed with locals. We took the fact that it was packed as a sign it must be quite good, and went for it despite the lack of English menu or western faces inside. Peking duck is Beijing's speciality. Therefore Sophie and I had no problem polishing off a whole duck between us, wrapping the meat up in pancakes alongside spring onion and hoi sin sauce.

Eyes were burning holes in the back of our heads throughout the entire meal, and the locals' curiosity in us even reached the point where they would call our waitress over and ask her about us. Taking it all in good fun, we would respond with a cheeky smile and wave, mouthing "ni hao" (hello). The response tended to be even more bafflement.

Moving on from the restaurant, we had a fun walk around the streets surrounding the hostel containing markets and souvenir shops. Sophie purchased the customary panda hat, while I swore that once I have a place big enough, I'm going to fill a room full of kitsch and tacky souvenirs from the Far East. I was also quite taken by the laser pens being sold by one street hawker. I'm pretty sure they were strong enough to melt steel. They were certainly strong enough to be shone the length of Tiananmen Square, the green dot glowing as brightly over a kilometre away as it did on the pavement at his feet. In a recurring theme of this blog so far: it's a shame the organisers of the Shard's ill-fated laser show didn't use some of this bloke's hardware. He would've given them "good price" too. Unfortunately, the realisation that taking one of them back to the UK would probably result in my swift relocation to Belmarsh negated any chance of a purchase.

We were up in good time the following day to go see Mao's corpse. Unfortunately, upon arrival at his mausoleum it emerged that it is closed each Monday - presumably to touch up his make-up. This came as a crushing blow to our hopes to complete the trilogy of communist cadavers. Having seen Lenin in Moscow last year, seeing Mao in Beijing and Ho Chi Minh in Saigon on this trip would have completed the set. Oh well, life goes on.

We pressed ahead towards the Forbidden City, the former seat of imperial China. The City takes up a vast walled chunk of central Beijing, and was the intimidating home of countless Chinese Emperors through a millennia of dynasties. As one would expect, it is certainly an impressive place. The scale and nature of the architecture is without equal in the east. If I am being 100%!h(MISSING)onest, I perhaps found it all a bit samey after passing through the fifth courtyard and temple hall, but the real problem is the crowds.

See the thing about the Forbidden City nowadays is that it isn't forbidden at all. Quite the opposite. Instead, everybody is allowed to visit. And by everybody, I mean pretty much half of the Chinese population on any given day. The place is rammed - Chinese style. Anyone able to stand still for a moment to take a photograph, without being body checked from all sides by the hordes of tour groups deserves a medal.

Thus, while appreciating the significance of our location, it was relief that Sophie and I reached the end. Keen for some relief from the crowds, we had a wander around the picturesque Beihai Park, climbing upwards to get a birds eye view of the Forbidden City. It was probably from this raised angle that it was most impressive, a sea of ornate orange rooftops rising from the Beijing mist. That mist, or rather hazy pollution may have added some atmosphere to the Forbidden City, but it obscured any real view of wider Beijing. I'm not sure whether Beijing actually gets many clear days though.

Next we braved a local taxi and headed for Gulou, a up-and-coming area where trendy bars, cafes and shops rub shoulders with traditional Beijing life.

Life in Beijing has long centred around the hutong, a narrow single-storied street-cum-alley in which families lived side-by-side. With the ever increasing commercial pressures of modern China, many hutongs have developed a commercial side, with frontages being used for retail, often focused towards tourists. Gulou has no shortage of hutongs in a variety of stages of development.

Sophie and I wandered the completely undeveloped ones first, communities of little more than shacks punctuated by public toilets that they presumably all share. Eventually, and strangely at first, these communities would find themselves accommodating an extremely trendy looking bar, cafe or restaurant. Sophie and I ate in one being run by a young British guy. It seemed a surreal location to be able to get beans on toast. We then found our way back to the main road, crossed it, and found a hutong at the other end of the scale - completely developed for the masses, full of shops, bars and eateries. It then became clear that the fledgling commercial entities the previous side of the main road were striking out a little further in anticipation of the development of the whole area. The developed side of the road is literally a view into the future for the remaining untouched hutongs.

That evening I made a solo pilgrimage into northern Beijing to see the 2008 Olympic Park, and in particular, the Birds Nest Stadium. Sophie was of course invited, but opted to have a relax and a snooze at the hostel as opposed to battling across one of the world's busiest cities at rush hour. Her decision was perhaps vindicated as the commute took well over an hour, and four changes of metro line. Still, having something of a stadium fetish, I was determined to make it up there.

A strange place greeted me on arrival. It seems the Beijing park has been unable to avoid the fate that seems to befit many Olympic Parks. Although there were quite a few people milling around, and plenty of hawkers selling tat, the park had an eerie feeling of faded glory. Many of the original Olympic checkpoints were still up, and looking tired and abandoned. It certainly didn't seem as if any post-Olympic plan had been implemented whatsoever. The circus had left town and that was that. Nothing left but a few opportunist vendors.

Putting all that to one side, the Birds Nest looked amazing. As impressive a stadium as I have seen. Far from just being a high quality cladding, I was impressed to see that the famous 'twigs' that give it the nest look were actually integral to the structure itself. I took numerous photos before embarking on the long journey home, fearful Sophie may have thought I'd gone missing. As it happened, despite being away for over three hours, she was perfectly content and had barely noticed my absence.

Beijing was always going to have a hard act to follow being our next destination after Hong Kong. While Hong Kong may have been China-lite, Beijing was China slapping us straight in the face. You cannot help but be astounded by the people, the noise, the smell, the spitting! I'd be lying if I said it was as sheer fun as Hong Kong, but I don't think our purpose of visiting China was pure enjoyment. We have much of South East Asia for that. What China will offer, and Beijing did offer, is proper travelling. The sort that can be hard work at times, but in return offers huge cultural rewards. Or, at the very least, allows you to look smug when you get home!

---

Photos

Room View
Forgot to take a snap of the room itself, but we spent far more time in here anyway - the hostel bar.

My View
I started writing this blog on the night train from Beijing to Xian. As you can see here, once you've got your beer and your TV programmes, it can be pretty comfortable.