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Published: October 27th 2005
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I was woken up by the loud cries of my fellow companions in the carriage: there was apparently something extraordinary to see, they were filming and staring out of the windows. I looked out with my bleary eyes to see a lanscape of sand and small hills, barely higher than sand dunes, clearly the end of the Gobi. However exciting this may be, I saw little to justify such excitement and thought the British a tad too prone to bursts of unexplained activity and ought to keep out of the sun in the future. But then I saw it myself, the great wall of China. At this stage, little more then a long wall of sand coloured bricks, lazily stretching itself at the foot of the hills but nevertheless an exciting sight. I imagine this is what the weary Mongols must have been faced with after their ardous journey through the Gobi desert, the sign that they have made it to China and the start of plundering and pillaging.
Excitement inevitably makes me hungry, so after a quick wash and a careful shave (dangerous activity in a train), I headed to our new Chinese restaurant. The restaurant was, by its
decoration, a considerable disappointment: it all looked terribly common. Where was the heavy bad taste of the mongols or the fake, vodka impregnated, wood panneling of the Russians? The decoration was non existent, plastic on the walls and plastic on the tables, a world of plastic. The food, on the other hand, was far from being plastic ! What a pleasure, after a week of mutton: sauteed beef and vegetables in a large bowl of flied lice.. what a delightful pleasure indeed.
The next few hours were spent playing chess with Jack, a pleasant activity only broken up by mild discussions and frenzied rushes to the windows in the hope to catch a glimpse of the wall.
Chinese time is one hour back to the time in UB. It is the first time during this journey that I move my watch back and not forward. The Chinese, in their infinite wisdom, have decided to only have one time zone in a country where there should be 7.
The train stopped for 20 minutes at the main section of the wall before we entered the old China. As ever I took my picture, just like all the other
tourists and rejoined the restaurant in an attempt to overdose on chinese food and try the entire menu. 2 hours later, my attempts where foiled by my stomachs' lack of further capacity, so I heavily rejoined my cabin with a view to vegetate until we arrived in Beijing. 1 game and a half of chess later, we arrived at the Beijing North Station. I take a few pictures of the boys and their bikes and then head off to the great city itself.
The ambassador of France, Mr Guelluy is very kind in providing me accomodation for the duration of my stay in Beijing at his residence. I find a cyclomotor to take me and promptly make my way accross to the embassy quarters of Sanlitun. Most foreign embassies of Beijing are located there. The residences and embassies are all next to each other, all simillar and each with its army guards in front of the gates. The friendly countries (Albania, North Korea, Cuba, Vietnam, Russia, etc...) have their own compunds closer to the city. They seem to have much more land than the not so friendly countries. Albania has the biggest embassy in Beijing.
The French residence
is a large, pleasant, well constructed building. It has a lovely garden with a pleasant terrace. Mrs Guelluy very kindly welcomed me in and gave me the studio for the duration of my stay. This is luxury money simply can't buy: the first time, since I left Moscow some 18 days earlier, that I have an actual shower. Since Moscow, I have washed in small handbassins or water containers. The first time since Moscow that I sleep in a room alone. I have, so far, always been either in a dormitory or in a train carriage. What a pleasure, I immediately step into the walk-in shower and indulge in a 10 minute long shower. Follows clean clothes and a drink with the ambassadrice on the terrace. The studio allocated to me also has an office, living room, tv room and private terrace. I am not quite sure what to make of all this space but will find ways.
After such luxury, I go out to see my old Beijing. I go directly to my old place of work, the Novotel Peace Hotel Near Wangfujing (http://www.novotelpeacebj.com/index-e.htm). Unfortunately, all of my old friends are gone and no one is left with
whom I can recall the past.
One of my first reactions, when I arrived in Beijing, was disgust at the pollution present in the ctiy. It is far worse than I remembered it during my last visit 4 years ago. There is no sun, just a constant smog hanging over the city. There are more cars and less bikes, more big gleaming towers and less old Hutongs, more bars and restaurants for foreigners and less small chinese restaurants serving delicious food in 2 square meters.
I return to the embassy in the evening, slightly disapointed and nostalgic at not having found my old pleasant Beijing but rather a large, polluted, traffic jammed metropole. My moral is given a boost when I enter my room to see that a kind servant has left me delicacies of all sorts: fruits, bits of chocolate cakes and other little pastries. Vive la France!
I have a delicious dinner with the ambassador and his wife and retire to my bed with extreme delight in anticipation of a good night.
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