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| Journal - |
| October 14th, 2006 > Oi! Hulloh! |
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| I vaguely remembered my way to the guesthouse from last time I was here, so I walked the two kilometres or so from the bus stop. The truth is, I had intended on splashing out on a taxi; but none of the four I tried wanted to take me. It is a week long national holiday, the streets are alive with domestic tourists, and I dare say they have far more lucrative fares hanging around Tiananmen than with some scummy backpacker, who is going to watch the meter every step of the way.
The temperature was rising to the late twenties and I had just completed a ten-hour flight next to a constantly farting Chinaman. My pack was getting heavier, but I could sense journey¡¯s end. The problem is, when you get among the Hutong (network of residential alleyways) as I was now, you can loose the bearings easily. But I am stubborn, and I pressed on up random streets looking for something I could recognize. ¡°Oi, hulloh!¡± Without even looking, I know a rickshaw driver is tailing me. ¡°Wheh you won goh?¡± he calls out in well-practiced Chinglish. ¡°Ni-hao¡±, I reply, the standard greeting and my Mandarin now exhausted. ¡°Yu won tour oh Tianamen, I tek yu¡±! Wandering the Hutong with a pack on, and anything less than one hundred percent sure of my direction, I am a prime target for the persistent rickshaw driver. ¡°No thank you, I have my pack and I don¡¯t really want a tour at this moment, and I know just where I am going, thanks¡±. I take a sharp right into a narrow alleyway that should connect with the next street; for I know that all Hutong run east to west. ¡°Wheh yu stey?¡±, he has turned his bike around to follow me. ¡°I am in Far East Hostel, nearby, but I know where I am going, thanks¡±. Assuming I was very close to the hostel, I thought that would deal him the deathblow and I could continue on my way, but it served only to excite him even more. ¡°Or no, yu wrong way away, I take you faw twenty¡± he offers. ¡°You kidding? - I can get taxi for less¡± I retaliate. Our banter continues for a while, a few laughs as the price slowly comes down. But do you see how it works now? Fifteen minutes ago, I was quite happy walking and definitely did not need a ride; now I am in intense negotiations. The rickshaw driver knows that now he has me bargaining, he has his customer. Despite the fact that I have covered most of the two kilometres on foot, when a taxi would have only cost 15 Yuan if I could have procured one, I give in when we hit 10 Yuan. I throw my pack on and climb aboard for a high speed, high adrenalin ride through the Hutong that never fails to excite. In the end, I was quite far away. |
| However, I digress. Beijing is an imperial city and its parks are numerous and staggering in scale. Reaching the northern end of the walled Forbidden City, I entered Jingshan Park, which is built on a hill made from the vast amount of soil dug out to create the moat. The Pagoda at the top offers exhilarating views over the Forbidden City and the rest of Beijing (image as the banner at the very top of page with the links). The smog, thinner today after some overnight rain, lends the view a mystical feel, if a little unhealthy. Descending behind the hill to the north, the rest of Jingshan Park awaits to be discovered. I entertained myself for a full hour watching some locals having an impromptu singsong. The assembled old folk had traditional instruments, and it seems anyone can stand up and sing. One old fellow positively murdered whatever it was he was heartily belting out, and everyone fell about laughing. Though I cannot understand the music, it is a lot of fun to watch. I have since come across many such gatherings around the city and they have always made me very welcome to watch, but thankfully spared me the indignity of having to sing. |
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| I have spent nearly two days taking things easy, plenty of reading, some good meals and early nights. The last few weeks on Herm Island were so hectic that I had had little time to think much about a route through China, so this would consume my thoughts over the next few days.
The Far East Hostel, accredited by Hostel International and therefore meeting its standard, is a good choice for Beijing. It is actually a hotel, but the lower half of the building is given over to dorm style accommodation. It is all squeaky clean, with a great range of facilities and very helpful, friendly staff. Across the road, there is more accommodation and a lovely communal area in a traditional courtyard. I have been going through that horrible process, which I have learned, is usual at the start of a trip. Well, at least for me anyway. It takes a few days to get back into the groove; and up until then I go through a stage where I feel most self-conscious and a little lonely. Each evening, I force myself to hang out a while in the communal area, even if I don¡¯t feel like it. I have arrived at a hostel where people already have their little groups and I am just another newcomer. Travellers, you know, can be the biggest snubs of all. I get myself down because I have met few people, and nobody that really interests me. Then all sorts of thoughts enter my head; is it me? Am I boring? Am I too old? Do I smell? On the third day, I wake up very early and get out onto the street. It is warm, and as always, a quiet and interesting time to be out. The sun rises over the cityscape and I already feel better, it is going to be a good day. I am thinking much clearer now, putting things into perspective. Did I come to China to hang out with twenty year olds? Is there any hurry to meet people? Have I ever had any problems making friends? Being a solo traveller is about taking the rough with the smooth, the good times along with the bad. I have to learn not to care what others think of me, and get on with my own trip. I am not here to impress anyone but myself. With those sentiments, I was back in the courtyard in the evening time. Would you know it? A few people have left and new ones arrived, and straight away, I am into a decent conversation with a Frenchman, an Indian, a German woman and a lovely English couple. The evening passes by quickly and it seems I am out of the doldrums. That day was my first official day at work, so to speak, the job being of course to explore the place I am in. I skirted up past Tiananmen, heading north alongside the Forbidden City, saving those for a midweek day when they would be less busy. The weeklong autumn festival is drawing to a close, and the city has been jam-packed with domestic tourists. It starts with China National Day and culminates in the full moon; a time for celebrations, eating moon cakes and young couples smooching on park benches. It is best to avoid the attractions during these times, for the numbers of people can be exhausting. During the week, it was reported on the news, China Railways moved over fifty million people ? just the trains, that does not include buses, private cars or domestic flights. |
| Over the next few days, I would mooch around the markets, not looking for anything in particular, explore some of the many imperial parks and visit the natural history museum. The latter was really a bit of a wild card. I had been tempted there by the guidebook, which listed it under the strictly "don¡¯t bother" category. Anything the Chinese do badly is usually worth a look. There was an impressive collection of assembled dinosaur and whale skeletons, but unfortunately the rest was quite confusing and with almost non-existent English. There were many preserved animals, insects and fish and, interestingly, computer stations with ¡®fun¡¯ games on them for learning. I noticed that kids and adults alike spent more time playing on these than looking at exhibits; quite a thing for a natural history museum, I reckon. Having killed barely a couple of hours, I saved the best for last, the collection of human cadavers. In a dilapidated building with a strange smell, but not one I really wanted to breathe in, were countless jars containing preserved human parts, complete and otherwise. The accompanying information was sparse, tatty and dust covered, leading to the assumption that this display is not so much about learning anything useful of the human body, rather just a jolly good opportunity to see something gruesome. The atmosphere was eerie, with all those dead people looking out at me from their jars, I felt quite guilty for disturbing them. There are complete bodies with cross sections cut away, genitalia (the nearest I have been lately), heads cut in half and limbs with skin or muscle stripped away. After the brains was a collection of foeti in various stages of development, right up to a newborn baby. I found myself drawn to a slightly opened door, imagining a curator in white blood-soaked coat going about his business with a cleaver, dicing up a new arrival. Instead, I inadvertently interrupted the guard taking a nap. After all that lot, I was about ready for some lunch. Beijing, capital of the most populous nation on earth. A metropolis of overwhelming scale, Beijing is unusually located next to neither sea nor major river. Earliest recorded settlements date from 1045 BC, but it did not rise to power until after the collapse of the Mongol Empire. During the twelfth century, the city was razed by Genghis Khan and renamed Dadu. Later Kublai Khan, grandson of Genghis, had become ruler of the Mongol Empire and made Dadu his seat of power, centred on the Drum and Bell towers mentioned earlier. Successive Empires would leave their mark on the city, the Ming in particular redesigning many buildings and walls. Ousted by the Qing Dynasty, the next 120 years would see many power struggles and invasions from foreign forces. In 1949, the People¡¯s Liberation Army entered Beijing, and Mao Zedong (Chairman Mao) declared the ¡®People¡¯s Republic¡¯ to the population. Like those before, the communists added their own touch to the city; Soviet engineers helped to add a Stalinistic flavour and even the ancient city walls were levelled to improve traffic flow. Coincidently, I recently watched ¡°The Last Emperor¡± and would recommend it for some great views of the Forbidden City. The country is still very much under communist rule, though China¡¯s rise to a world power seems very much capitalist in nature. It is a world leader in finance, heavy industry, manufacturing and pollution. It has a history going back to the very dawn of time and some of the worlds most modern cities. It contains many of the last true wild places on the globe, and has seven out of ten of the world¡¯s most polluted cities. As China continues to suffer international criticism over its human rights abuses and secretive government, Beijing leads the way forward in hosting the 2008 Olympics. It is undergoing an extreme makeover in preparation for throwing open its doors to the world. While the city as a whole will certainly benefit from the event, I am not so sure about the older generation who seem dazed at the amount of ¡°tidying up¡± in the more tatty areas. |
| The Forbidden City
With the holiday week over, and hopefully the crowds lessened, I took my chances at one of Beijing¡¯s premier attractions, The Forbidden City. Built from 1406 onwards, it housed two dynasties of emperors, the Ming and the Qing. A completely self contained and self-sufficient city within a city, thousands of servants provided for the emperor, who never left the confines of its walls. Dynastic rule had come to an end in China in the early 1900¡¯s with Sun Yatsen¡¯s Republican Government unseating the Qing, Puyi being the last emperor from the age of two. Sometime during the 1950¡¯s, I am not sure exactly when, the gates were finally thrown open to the people, ending five hundred years as the centre of Chinese power. At nearly one million square metres, the scale of the city demands a full day for viewing; indeed, if you were an enthusiast two or even three would be more appropriate. The mind boggles as to the number of people needed to both build and care for such a place. The intricate artwork on all of the eight hundred buildings, and carefully crafted masonry at every turn, must have taken many thousands of hours to achieve. |
| A bit further north still and I happened upon the Drum & Bell towers. Both built during the twelfth century, they marked the centre of the old Mongol capital, and have been repeatedly destroyed and rebuilt since. Most Buddhist temples in China have their own such towers; they are used to mark the hours of the day. With separate entrance fees for both, I economised and entered only the bell tower. The impossibly steep steps led me fifty metres or so to the top, where hangs the biggest bell in China, cast for Yong Le during the Ming Dynasty. It is nearly six metres high and just under four in diameter, with a thickness up to 25cm. It weighs in at an impressive sixty-three tons, begging the question, how on earth did they get it up there? Unfortunately, my query would go unanswered; I imagine some sort of a pulley system and lots of grunting men would have heaved it up to its resting place upon an intricate system of timbers, where it now hangs. |
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| So what does it cost in China? |
| The Chinese currency is the Renminbi (RMB). It is divided into ten yuan, which is again divided into ten jiao, the latter having so little value it is rarely used. EXCHANGE RATES GBP 1 - 14.6 RMB USD 1 - 7.9 RMB EUR 1 - 9.8 RMB check latest here Typical daily costs in Beijing are around Y50 p/n accommodation. A 630ml bottle of Tsing Tao beer (good) will cost a staggering Y2 (yes, that is true). Bottle of spring water - Y5 Full meal in local eatery Y10 - 20 A ride anywhere, for any distance on metro - Y3 Internet use, per hour Y2 I am living well on Y100 per day, obviously this goes up with travel and attractions. Generally, as capital cities go, it is very cheap indeed. Will get cheaper as I head southwest. Train ticket bought today for 14 hr trip, with bed, cost Y126, |
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| Entering from the south, I passed under The Gate of Heavenly Peace, a potent national symbol to this day that has a portrait of Chairman Mao over the entrance. It is from here that Mao proclaimed the People¡¯s Republic on 1st October 1949, and from where vast military parades are viewed. The turbulent student demonstrations of Tiananmen in 1989 also took place here, when the Mao portrait was pelted with paint-filled eggs. The area immediately through the gate, Zhongshan Park, was enclosed by a wall of it¡¯s own by the Ming in the early 1500¡¯s. To enter the Forbidden City itself, I passed under Meridian Gate. Initially entering a large courtyard, capable of holding an imperial audience of one hundred thousand, it is easy to assume that this is the very centre of the complex. However, you then pass through the next gate into another, and so on several times over, each time getting a little smaller until you reach the residence of the emperor and the real seat of power. |
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| Heading north, with each step you pass further into the intricate network of buildings, alleyways and courtyards. One emperor, for simple tasks such as preparing a speech, changing clothes or thinking, used entire buildings, with grand names such as Hall of Middle Harmony or Eternal Spring Palace. It is easy to find one of many secret courtyards, wandering a labyrinth of alleyways, miniscule in size and perfect to sit and reflect. |
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| The crowds were still large on this day, as I suspect they may be on any, but very quickly, they disperse in the enormity of the city. It is difficult to take in everything you see, but perhaps my most memorable example of the extravagance in its building, is the stone carving behind The Hall of Preserving Harmony. It is a single slab of stone twenty metres long, three metres wide and nearly two metres thick. Carved with nine imperial dragons in the clouds, it formed a carriageway above which the emperor was conveyed, in his sedan chair as he ascended the terrace to the hall. The massive plinth of stone was quarried from the outskirts of Beijing during the early Ming Dynasty. But how did they get it here? During winter, water was poured along the way, to form an ice road, along which it was pulled by man and beast. It took them four months to manoeuvre it into position, before the massive task of carving could even begin. |
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| The Forbidden City, for so long the centre of Chinese power, is a must-see for anyone visiting Beijing. It will cost you Y40 to enter, allow a full day and be prepared for plenty of walking. During the day, countless art students asking you to inspect their work, in a nearby building, will approach you. They speak some English and are most charming, but once in the gallery the hard sell begins. They take the line that you are supporting their work and that of their university by buying something, and as beautiful as the artwork is, it is available all over Beijing for less.
So what is the latest news? I have spent close to two weeks in Beijing, and more or less covered all aspects of interest to me. It is an enjoyable city, and reasonably priced for a capital. I have used the spare time to make onward plans, as always open to frequent change, but taking in the parts of China I wish to explore. I have put together a collection of images for Wander Years Extra, replacing the long standing and still very popular Mongolian ones. However, it may be some time before I can publish the new pages due to my ongoing problems in viewing the site myself. I¡¯ll keep working on it. Meantime, I am also keen to introduce a new feature to the site, random video clips of interest when relevant. Again, I cannot work out the technical aspect until I get better access, but hopefully it will be available soon. Probably one of the worst decisions of my life, I recently sent my old faithful Fujifilm SLR camera home and replaced it with a snazzy Cannon compact. With travelling light the theme for this leg of the journey, I wanted to loose the bulky SLR for something smaller. I have already managed to loose the instruction book, and the images I am getting are very disappointing. The main problems are washed out, lifeless looking colours, and getting the balance correct against bright skies. It may be the relentless smog in Beijing, but I will keep on experimenting and trying to improve. In the meantime, I remain less than impressed with a brand that is supposedly renowned for their quality. If anyone has any advice, please help! You may be wondering why I have rattled on for four thousand words about Beijing, with not a single mention of the Great Wall of China. Doing an organised tour was not for me, and so I found my own way up there. It involved devious avoidance of a guard, a sleep deprived night hiding in a watchtower, on the wall itself, and death-defying climbs at one thousand metres. I marvelled at one of the most amazing sights of my life, and was the first to watch the sunrise over the wall the following morning. I have much to write, and thus it will all be in the next journal, to be posted as soon as possible. For me next, I leave tonight aboard a sleeper train to Pingyao, nine hours southwest. Regarded as China¡¯s best example of a Han Chinese imperial city, it was a thriving merchant town that housed the country¡¯s first banks. Today the banks have long gone, but the town has been preserved as it was then, and with a population of just 40,000 it should be a peaceful place to spend a day or two. ¡°Zaijian¡± (Goodbye)! |
| Need to post me something? Read on... I will be in Bangkok for a few days in early December, and will be able to pick up post restraunte from the Post Office there. Look out soon for details of how to post me stuff.... (money especially welcome)! |
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| NEXT TIME on the Wander Years.... A crazy adventure, sleeping on the Great Wall of China Timos top tips for China And other stuff.... |