We discovered a delicious steamed bun paradise on the way to the Summer Palace but we are in need of some western food…never thought we’d say this. These five bite buns of joy were named after a general who used them as heads in order to disguise his army size. Whatever, they’ve ruined any future bun eating.
The Summer Palace is the 2nd most visited site here. Made for heavenly emperors to escape the heat, its 4x the size of the Forbidden City and is an impressive spread of temples, villas, landscaping, water, and opulence.The last Empress Dowager splurged on this when it was supposed to go to a modern navy. She did however, build a marble boat for her pleasure.
It’s the National Holiday period and Oct 1 is THE special day of celebration–the 60th anniversary of the founding of the PRC. An exit strategy for Beijing has been a struggle. All trains booked. Oh well, this is what improvising is all about.
Even in Canada, Chinatowns never shut down. Incredibly, many businesses here are closed. Lazy buggers!! The exception is our hutong area. It’s as if our village enclave is secluded not only from the noise of the city, but its dictates, and modernity. As we walk around the hutongs and the main roads, all tvs are on the parade. Joyful revolutionaries songs blast away. They all sound like Auld Lang Syne until another verse of how great the wonderful Peoples’ Republic breaks in.
Though its’ taking place at Tiananmen Sq where Mao regularly gave speeches to 1mill comrades, the parade is open only to good commies. Common folk do get to see the overhead jets and tanks rumbling through the streets. The government never misses an op to flex its intimidation and saturate the plebs and foreigners with propaganda. Must confess, even on tv its impressive–the 200,000 performers, the light show, the fireworks, the parading—-way more over the top than the Olympics.
Trish takes her first day off in 3 weeks, I rent a bike. On this holiday, traffic is sparse and being on a bike is absolutely brilliant on the wide, empty roads.
On our last day, we and along with half of China are lined up to get into the Forbidden City. We have to remind ourselves the pushing, the shoving, the free for alls, the apparent dis-courteousness is anything but. At one of the temples, masses of people press into the barrier to get the shot of the Empresses’ throne. It is a pick-pocketers’ delight as bodies are locked together, arms with digicams held high, shouts and hollers. Free iPhones couldn’t render such bedlam. I’m more interested in pix of the locals. I’m awed by the normality of the chaos and also love how they typically pose as if they are facing a firing squad, or are doing a GQ or Vanity Fair shoot.
We say our goodbyes to Bobby, and our dear Kamloops boys Frank and Darcy, who we know we will see again. We head to Shanghai, the largest and most western city in China.
A burger would be real nice.
Still looking for our travel legs. Must learn to pace ourselves, be wary of touts and scams who sense when we are tired and pounce on us with can’t miss offers.
Best Beijing eats?: Not the Beijing duck surprisingly (had better with Mary Gallagher in Toronto)
The sweetest little snowpeas south of heaven, the perfect broccoli heads in garlic sauce–all local fare for pennies.
