Day 15: The Forbidden City - Forbidden No More

At long last, I had reached my final day in China (for this time, anyways). My flight was scheduled to leave from Beijing Capital International Airport at 4:30 in the afternoon, so I still had over half a day to spend sightseeing before I had to go. When it comes to Beijing, two major historical attractions come to mind - the Great Wall and the Forbidden City. Having conquered the Great Wall, there was one obvious choice for this day.

The Forbidden City, or Imperial Palace ('Gu Gong' for all of you wannabe Mandarin scholars), was the residence of China's emperors from 1420 until the fall of the dynasty system in the early 1900's. Located in the direct center of old Beijing, many emperors did not leave these grounds at all throughout their entire lives. Like everything else in Beijing, it's big - really big. Check out this satellite photo. For reference, you can see Tiananmen Square (remember, 82 football fields big) in the lower half of the picture.

I arrived at the Meridian Gate (that would be the pay entrance) at about 9:30, which gave me about 3 hours to see what I could before I had to get going. I bought my entrance ticket, picked up an audio guide, and headed inside. The map they handed me with my ticket was all in Chinese, except for the title "Imperial Palace Museum Guide Map" at the top. That's helpful. Fortunately, the audio guide comes with one in English, even if many of the buildings weren't labeled. Each area of interest was marked with an LED light on the map. The audio guide was activated by proximity, so as I approached an area, the audio started. After I had visited a place, the light went out, leaving only the places I had not yet been to still illuminated. Technology is great.

The architecture of the Palace is simply stunning. There are hundreds of ancient wooden structures, all topped with intricately tiled golden rooftops. Staircases are ornately carved out of enormous slabs of marble. Bronze dragons glid the doors and walls throughout the palace grounds. The corners of each building are marked with a series of little beasts parading behind the emperor. The more beasties, the more prominent the building. With 11 such creatures, the most important of the buildings is the Hall of Supreme Harmony. This is where the emperor's throne is located, and where he would typically host important visitors and conduct matters of state.

Beyond the Hall of Supreme Harmony is the Gate of Heavenly Purity. This is the entrance to the inner court, where the emperor and his family lived. I explored around the various halls and palaces for quite some time. Many of the hallways were narrow, sometimes leading to another palace or courtyard. Sometimes there was only one way in our out of these places. It was easy to get lost. Many of the smaller, side buildings contained exhibits of various historical artifacts or cultural exhibits.

The Hall of Supreme Harmony

The Emperor's throne, inside the Hall of Supreme Harmony

The little roof beasties

Somewhere in the courtyard outside some important Hall

Behind the inner court was an elaborate garden. One area had a rock garden with many ornately formed rocks. To the north end of the garden was a large rock with a pavillion perched on top. This was the highest point in the compound. Frequently, the emperors and their wives would climb up to the top and look out over Beijing.

In advance of the 2008 olympics coming Beijing, the city is in the midst a massive facelift. Many of the structures inside the Forbidden City are part of this enormous restoration project. While some buildings sported a bright, fresh coat of paint, others were faded and cracked, with peeling paint and rotted wood to reveal the true age and character of this place. In all honesty, I preferred the old to the new. It just gave me more a sense of the history that these walls have witnessed.

One of the many garden pavillions

Evidence of the true age of the City

I spent three hours there, and only managed to hit the highlights. It would be easy to spend an entire day there if you wanted to be thorough. But I had a date with an airplane that I was intent on keeping, so I caught the subway back to the hotel to pack and check out.

I was running low on time, so I decided to abandon the bus-to-airport plan and take a taxi. I asked the concierge how much this would cost and was told 120-150RMB. I only had 120 left, so I asked her to ask the taxi driver if this would be enough. After a brief exchange, she told me that it was no problem - this driver would take me. She also explained that there was a 10RMB road toll near the airport that would be included in the price. I got in the taxi and we took off.

Feeling a little uneasy, I decided to tell the cab driver how much I had just to make sure it would be okay - in Mandarin, of course (no he didn't speak English!).

"I only have 120RMB. Is that enough?"

"It's enough."

"Thank you."

"No problem. Wahd ajfkda sjkdh jdhg jatkah sjfhkj fjkaslfkds fjka;f asja waur iwon dkgas ajk fhasfjslgai ghajkdskjfl......."

Uh oh...

"Sorry, my Mandarin is not very good. I didn't understand."

3 more rounds of this and the driver was finally resigned to the fact that I did not, in fact, really speak Mandarin. We hit the toll booth and he motioned for me to give him money. I handed him 10RMB and soon we reached the airport. Out of curiosity, I had been monitoring the fare meter to see how much the tally would reach on the trip. As we pulled up to the sidewaly at the airport, the meter stopped on 114RMB. I got out and handed the driver the last 110RMB that I had, certain that we had established the limits of my funding capability. He looked at me funny and waved his hands saying (in Mandarin) "4 Renminbi! I need 4 more Renminbi!"

I said, "I don't have any more! No more!" We both kept saying the same thing back and forth to each other until the driver just waved me off and just drove away. I shook my head, thinking that I couldn't have been clearer about my cash situation. I should mention that 4RMB is about 50 cents.

With no money for food, I was thrilled to be a business class passenger with access to the lounge and it's free food and drink ameneties. As I sat and filled my belly, I reflected on my time in the capital city. Beijing was big. And old. And full of tourist traps and people trying to make a quick buck off of the "rich American traveller." Lots of culture, in some ways tied to propaganda of the past, and in some, marching towards modernization. All in all, it's been great to have had a front row seat to the rebirth of a nation.

It had been an exciting adventure with plenty of memorable moments. I was glad I had come, but was somewhat "gladder" that I was heading home. I used the wireless internet in the lounge to post a brief trip update, with the idea that I would play catch up once I had arrived home. A month and a half later, here is the final post of this trip. Sorry it took so long, but I hope that the stories made you feel like you were there, so that, in some vicarious way, you could take part in my experiences. I don't mind traveling alone, but the one thing I do miss is having someone to share the moment with me. So in that sense, thanks for reading along with me.

I will be home in the States until November, but rest assured I have a lot to write about here until my next China excursion. I also have tons more photos from this last trip, so I might put together another photo gallery at some point. And of course, I'll have another installment of language humor. Until next time...

Day 14: The Great Wall

"If you haven't been to the Great Wall, you are not a real man."
- Mao Zedong


7:20am – The tour bus rumbled through the streets of Beijing. Despite being full to capacity with 40 passengers, there was a strange quietness in the cabin. I double checked my supplies for the day – 2 bottles of water, 2 Pocari Sweats, a package of dried mango, some spicy dried beef, and a sleeve of Ritz crackers.

At a total length of about 5000km, the Great Wall of China stretches the equivalent length of Boston to San Francisco. From Beijing, there are several places where you can go to see it. The easiest, closest, and most popular place is the Badaling section of the wall, but this was not where I was heading.

The Great Wall was built over a long period of time, with the oldest sections being over 500 years old. As you may imagine, maintaining a structure of such magnitude is somewhat problematic. As a result, about 85% of the wall is currently in poor condition. For this reason, the Badaling section of the wall was restored about 50 years ago by the Chinese government – reconstructed to resemble its past glory so visitors could marvel at its splendor. Thousands of people come to visit this section of the wall every day. They feast on Chinese delicacies like… McDonalds? KFC? They go… shopping at the mall? Wait a minute… This wasn’t what I had in mind - I was hoping for something more… Old. Authentic. Raw. I wanted to see the real wall.

So I started to research my options. Many people described hiking along the wall as a way to get away from the masses of tourists and see some incredible sections of the unrestored wall. The Simatai section was often cited as having the most spectacular terrain and scenery. Nearby was the Jinshanling section, which appeared to be an “unspoiled” stretch of the wall with few tourists. I found a couple of outfits online that combined both areas into one outing, and seemed reputable and affordable. China Adventure advertised 3 options for a one-day Great Wall hike:

1. Super Hiker – Get dropped off at the Jinshanling section and hike 10km to the Simatai section. Then, climb another 5km to the top of Simatai.
2. Regular Hiker – Same as #1, but skip straight to the parking lot at the end instead of scaling the Simatai portion.
3. Leisure Hiker – Skip straight to the Simatai section only, no hiking.

Map of Great Wall areas near Beijing, courtesy of China Adventure

I was a little worried about the Super Hiker option. I am not a Super Hiker. But, this was my only trip to the wall, so I wanted to make the most of it. No one had forced me to decide yet, so as we were driving the 130km from Beijing to the wall, I was weighing my options. Even with no hiking, you would still get to see the real wall and spectacular scenery. The weather was cloudy and spitty, not the best for beautiful mountain vistas, but it would do. After 3 hours in a bumpy bus with 40 strangers, we had arrived at Simatai. The guide stood up and barked out in broken English something like “Anyone for no hiking get off now!” This was the moment of decision. I looked around to see what everyone else was going to do. I noticed a couple of guys maybe a little younger and a little skinnier than me jump up and say, “No hiking! That’s what I’m about!” They quickly ran out of the bus. This did not help my confidence. But everyone else stayed put - even the old lady. I was sure I could outwalk her. Before I could make up my mind, the bus drove away. Decision made, for better or worse. At this point, I tentatively titled this post “Rue the Day.” Mentally, I shifted gears and began to psych myself up for the hike.

We arrived at the Jinshanling section and got out of the bus. Since I was alone, I surveyed the crowd for some people who might be good to buddy up with (read: no triathletes or grandmas). The bus was going to be waiting for us at the Simatai section in about 4 hours and I didn’t want to lose my group and get left behind. Most of the people who came this day were couples, but there were a few loners like myself. As we hit the trail up the mountain to the wall, everyone kind of took off at their own pace. I just went with the flow, trying to make sure I stayed somewhere in the middle of the pack, remembering the faces of the other group members. My legs were already burning as we made the steep climb up the mountain to the wall. I kept thinking I was going to regret staying on that bus.

And then, all of a sudden, there it was. A few more steps, and I was standing on the Great Wall. I looked out and saw this continuous stretch of brick and stone, strung across the peaks and valleys of the mountains, snaking like the mythical dragon into the clouds. It was quite a sight.

Awesome view of the Great Wall.

Viva Pocari!

Like every other giddy tourist there, I began snapping photos at a dizzying pace. In every direction around me were bare mountains showing little evidence of human development. The thick clouds hung like a mist, giving an air of mystery and intrigue to the landscape. Buoyed by the spectacular view, I was reenergized and started walking.

Soon, the entrance disappeared behind me and the condition of the wall began to worsen somewhat (it seemed obvious that the entrance area must be fairly well maintained). The top surface of the wall was uneven with bricks broken and missing here and there. Wild vegetation was growing from the cracks between the bricks. The wall itself was not very wide – maybe about 10-15 feet at most, just enough for two people to walk comfortably side by side.

At first, the stretch of wall was fairly flat, sometimes slightly uphill, sometimes slightly downhill. However, as the nature of mountains tends to be, I soon came upon a steep climb. At this point, the wall became like a giant set of stairs. Navigating them was particularly tough because the steps were all different sizes. Some of the bricks were loose and unstable. And the steps were steep – some up to a 70 degree slope, making it tough to make it up without using your hands to steady yourself (more like climbing a ladder than stairs). At some points, the wall was in such poor condition that there were no sidewalls at all. I couldn’t help but think that there is no way they would allow access to a place like this in the States. Too many lawyers.

Watchtowers were located at regular intervals along the wall. Each one served as a marker of progress and offered a place to rest for a moment before continuing on. Up the stairs… Down the stairs… Up the stairs… Down the stairs…

A typical stretch of steps along the wall.

Some of the guard towers have been reduced to rubble.

There were lots of steep areas like this one.

After a couple of hours, I crossed into the Simatai section of the wall. It had begun to rain lightly, which was kind of refreshing given how hot I had been the day before. I was a little hungry so I stopped in a guard tower and pulled out my dried mango. I opened the package and grabbed a tantalizing piece of yellow… wait, brown mango flesh??? What was this garbage? I tasted it… Crap. It’s that nasty, sour, salted stuff. At least I have this jerkey… Hmmm, the dried pork(?) was hard and chewey with little redeeming flavor. Guess that’s what I get for not being able to read Chinese characters. Fortunately, anything tastes okay washed down with a little Pocari Sweat.

A while later, I reached a narrow footbridge suspended over a river. Walking across it was a little spooky – it was a small suspension bridge anchored to the sides of the mountains on either of the river. The floorboards were small wooden planks, and the bridge swayed back and forth with each step. On the other side of the bridge, was the path to the parking lot – I had made it! Of course, this brought on another decision – head to the bus, or continue to the top of Simatai.

The summit was shrouded in clouds, which meant that even if I was able to reach the top, I wouldn’t be able to see much. By now, the rain was steady and I was pretty wet. I still had an hour until the bus left, but my legs were not happy. Ahead of me was the longest, steepest stretch of steps that I had come across on the hike. These steps were serious. These steps were pain. Nevertheless, I had come this far, so I decided to give it a try

The impressive Simatai section of the Great Wall.

Slowly and deliberately, I trekked up the stairs. My legs burned with each and every step. I could only go a short while before having to stop and catch my breath. I hit the first guard tower, which was pretty high up. Just past the tower was a short stretch of stairs that leveled out on a ridge for a bit before shooting straight up to the top. I checked the time – 40 minutes till bus departure. Even if I were to make it to the top, I would still have to turn around and come back. I just didn’t have the time. I headed up to at least hit the ridge so I could see the view before I headed back down. There I stood, at the edge of the clouds, watching the wall dance across the mountains, disappearing in the mist. Standing there alone in the pouring rain, I raised my hands to the heavens and let the wind and rain kiss my face. What an experience.

The steep climb to the first Simatai guard tower.

The view from the highest point I hit. I had hiked across all of the wall visible in this photo. Hope the wind doesn't blow my camera over the side!

I climbed back down the stairs carefully – the rocky steps were steep and very slippery. On the way to the parking lot, I stopped at a small souvenir shop and picked up a cheesy “I climbed the Great Wall” T-shirt for $2. What a deal. The thunderstorm continued, but at this point, I was already completely soaked through, so it didn’t really matter. I found the bus, climbed on, and collapsed in my seat. I was so glad to be still. I had survived the day, and was anxious to get back to the hotel and crash. In 3 short hours, I would be there.

Well, almost.

The first sign of trouble was when we pulled out of the parking lot of Simatai and traffic on this small two lane road was at a dead stop. We waited about 10 minutes without moving when the driver decided to make a U-turn. With a tour bus. Did I say it was a two lane road? After another 10 minutes (spent coercing the cars behind us to move, and then executing the turn), we headed back towards the parking lot. This time we went out the back way. I had no idea if it would actually be faster or not, but since we were moving, it at least felt like progress. About 15 minutes later there was a very loud bang on the back right side of the bus, followed by a mass turning of heads and furrowing of brows. The driver pulled over to inspect the damage. “Flat tire,” he said as if it were no problem at all (I should point out that this bus had the dual tire configuration, so there was still one good tire left on that side). He climbed back in the driver’s seat and continued down the road. A couple of minutes later, we began to hear a thump-thump-thump-thump sound coming from said tire. It seemed to be increasing in frequency and loudness as the speed of the bus increased. We had no choice at this point, the tire would have to be fixed.

The problem was that we were in an area of small villages with modest brick houses, where corn fields, bicycles, and dirt paths were more common than more modern things, like for example, auto parts. We pulled over on the side of the road near this small building that had handwritten signs posted on the outside.

Apparently this sign says something like, "Tire Repair." I'm not making this stuff up.

The driver got out and put a piece of wood behind the rear wheel. He then backed the bus up onto the wood, suspending the bad tire in the air. At this point, the bus emptied as all of us passengers had to get out and take a look at the damage. The driver went to talk with one of the villagers, who then went into one of the small buildings and extended a compressed air hose out to the bus. Then, he connected a massive air-driven torque driver to unscrew the bolts from the wheel. What do you know, I guess they do have auto shops out there! As the mechanic worked to remove the wheel, shutters clicked and flash bulbs strobed as all of us curious passengers supervised the proceedings. Everyone got quite a chuckle out of the situation. Fortunately, the bus was equipped with a spare tire and within 15 short minutes, we were ready to roll again. I got back on the bus and realized that it was warm, humid, and stunk like a locker room. Only 3 more hours.

The busted tire and the "jack"

A village boy plays outside.

There was an interesting mix of people in the group. It seemed that of all the people there, I was the short timer – “You’ve only been in China for two weeks?” Well ‘scuse me people. I also was one of the precious few who were staying in an actual hotel. There were scores of crunchy earth, hostel-going euro types. I only ran into one or two other Americans. There were Aussies, Germans, Danish, Norwegians, Brits, Italians, Canadians and Belgians to name a few. Everyone was extremely friendly. On the wall, I had met a German software manager who was in his 9th month of a 2 year assignment living in Beijing and a Canadian couple living in Beijing teaching English. On the bus, I sat next to a Norwegian seismologist who had just spent two weeks in Tibet and was one of the very first to travel on the new high altitude train to Lahsa. There was a Belgian girl who had traveled from Europe via the Trans Siberian Railroad. There was a foreign-born Chinese girl who had made the long trip to Asia to learn about her heritage. A British woman had brought her 7 year old son who kept asking “Are we almost done?” And there was a young Belgian couple who had spent a month in China traveling around the country, planning each day only as it arrived. All of these people I spent some time with as I made my way along the wall and on the bus.

Eventually, I arrived at the drop-off for the subway station. I said goodbye to my new friends and hopped off the bus. I’m sure the other train passengers weren’t happy to have a wet stinky tourist on board with them, but I was thrilled to be heading “home.” It was after 10pm by the time I reached the hotel. I was dead tired, soaking wet, and in desparate need of a foot transplant. As I opened my backpack and started unpacking my stuff, I realized that everything inside was soaked through. I lost some postcards, a nice Beijing guide book, and had a scare with my passport. Oh well, nothing I could do about that stuff now. I got cleaned up and changed and hit the pillow hard. Needless to say, I slept like a rock.

Day 13: Beijing – Tiananmen, Hutongs, and Beijing Duck

No rest for the weary, I thought as the wake-up call blared at 6am. Just enough time to jump in the shower, grab a quick brekkie, and meet my driver to get a lift to the airport. I had to catch a flight to Beijing, where I would spend two days exploring the history and culture of the capital city.

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I was sitting on the upper deck of an Air China 747, peering into the massive bird’s cockpit. I had just spent the past two weeks trying desperately to communicate important technical subtleties to my Chinese associates, only to find that there were significant misunderstandings despite my best efforts. Conversations frequently went something like “So when can you have this completed?” followed by the answer of “Yes, no problem.” At this particular moment, I was trying not to think about how the Chinese pilot may have received his flight training, from whom, and if he understood everything clearly. I was also thinking about how I would have preferred to have some company on this part of the trip instead of flying solo. A small part of me thought that I would be very glad when my Beijing adventure was over and I was on my way home.

The flight from Shenzhen to Beijing was completed without incident.

When I got off the plane, the first thing I noticed was the heat. Despite the overcast sky (mix of thick smog and clouds), the temperature and humidity were oppressive. Navigating the airport was not as straightforward as I expected, but eventually I found my way to the bus ticket counter and purchased a ticket for the bus that (I hoped) would bring me into downtown where I could hook up with a subway station. After a half hour ride, I arrived at my stop and got out. Funny thing was, I didn’t see any subway station where I was. Just lots of Chinese people walking and riding bicycles. Most of them seemed to be heading in one particular direction, so I decided to go that way too. Its amazing how you can be surrounded by thousands of people, and yet still be completely and utterly alone. Here I was in Beijing with no one to meet me, no one to help guide me around, and no one to talk to. Wherever I went I was completely conspicuous with my white skin and round eyes (not to mention that I was tall at 5’11”). No one had my back. I was truly alone and I could feel it in my bones. A couple of blocks later, I spotted something that looked suspiciously like a set of stairs heading underground – the Dongzhimen subway station.

In my haste, I had forgotten to print out directions to the hotel, a map, or even just the Chinese characters for the name. All I knew was the street address. I had remembered reading online that it was 0.12 miles away from a subway stop, but I wasn’t sure which one. I was hoping that I could recognize the name when I looked at the subway map. Hmmm….. Fuchengmen sounded familiar, so let’s give that a whirl, I thought.

The Beijing subway was clean and cheap, but modern it was not. In many ways it reminded me of the T in Boston. The stations were old and devoid of air conditioning (did I mention that it was hot?). The train cars were cooled, fortunately. On the door, there was a sign that I assumed said something like “Keep your hands away from the door.” There was a graphic of a hand with the index finger outstretched with a bleeding flesh wound. Let’s not be overly dramatic or anything…

I got off on what I thought was the right stop and I went to find the map. There it was, clearly labeled “Map of Fuchengmen Station.” That’s great, but that was the only English on the entire map! All the street names were in Chinese characters only, all the points of interest too. As little Mandarin as I speak, I can read even less. But of the 4 characters in the street name I was searching for (Beilishilu), I happened to know 3. Ah – here was one that read “Bei-something-shilu.” Hope that one I don’t know is “li.” I headed up to street level and walked that way. Not even 100 yards from the station, there it was. And only one block up from there was my hotel. Boo yah!

I walked into the lobby and felt a huge sense of relief, almost like an undercover CIA agent who has just reached a safehouse. The Holiday Inn Downtown Beijing was clean, cheap, safe, and the staff spoke English. But it was definitely not as nice as it looked on the web. Oh well, I was more than happy to be there, and I didn’t plan on spending much time there anyways.

I quickly tossed my stuff into the room and headed back out. I jumped back on the subway and took a quick ride to Qianmen (literally, Front Gate) where I got out and entered Tiananmen Square, the largest public square in the world. I don’t really know how to describe the scale of this place. I could tell you that it’s 880 meters long by 500 meters wide (that’s over 4.7 million square feet, the equivalent of about 82 football fields), but that only begins to pass along the sensation of standing there. The layout is stark – no trees, benches, or grass. The only structures rising above the pavement are the lampposts, the Monument to the People’s Heroes, and the Mausoleum housing Mao Zedong’s preserved body. Many families were out strolling through the square. Several children were flying kites. Although famous throughout most of the world as the site of pro-democracy demonstrations in 1989, the history of this place is unknown to many Chinese due to government censorship (for a good primer on these events, read this short write-up - it’s a good commentary on the culture of the current Chinese government). It was an eerie feeling to be standing in a place of such dubious historical significance.

Qianmen - the first of the 3 main gates of ancient Beijing


About 25% of the square is visible in this photo


The Mausoleum where Mao is on display. No cameras allowed inside.


The Chinese flag, flying high over Tiananmen Square

I made my way through the square, shooing away many “art students” wanting me to buy their paintings, and crossed Changan Road to the Tiananmen, which means, Gate of Heavenly Peace (ironic, isn’t it?). Through this gate is the Meridian Gate, which is the front entrance to the Imperial Palace, or Forbidden City (more on that later).

A lion guards Tiananmen


Looking through Tiananmen to the Meridian Gate. Notice the people touching the brass knobs on the door for luck.


Some Chinese soldiers marching towards Tiananmen Square to do... something

Since it was too late to get in the Forbidden City, I walked around the outside of it, through some special Beijing streets and neighborhoods known as Hutongs. A Hutong is a long, narrow street with courtyard style residences. Some have roads only 3 feet wide! These places are old, and represent a vanishing way of life. Many have been destroyed to make way for new roads or high rises. Fortunately, some have been protected by the government, although it is still common to see bulldozers clearing them out.

The destruction of Hutongs is, unfortunately, a common sight

After a few miles of walking, I had made my way over to the east side of downtown where I found the Donghuamen night market – the perfect place to grab a snack.

I’m usually the guy who says he’ll try anything. This place really holds your feet to the fire on that one. Stall after stall of all manner of – things – on skewers, ready to grill to order. There was not a single item above $2. I could describe the things I saw there to you, but the impact is more visceral if you click on the photo below and see for yourself. Go ahead… Just do it already!

Mmmmm... Nothing is more mouthwatering than this fine collection of tasties.

I have to say, if I was with some friends and someone said, “Hey, let’s all get scorpion kebobs!” and then they actually did, I would have to eat one. So there, I guess I would try this stuff. Well, maybe not the grubs. Or the centipedes. The locusts would be tough too. How are you supposed to eat the starfish anyways? It just so happened that on this particular day, I had a genuine reason to pass up the opportunity to sample these delicacies. The following day I had a date with the Great Wall (6 hours on a bus and 4 hours hiking, with no facilities available). I couldn’t afford the need to be chained to the thunder bucket all day. Yeah, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Instead, I opted for the more civilized option – The world famous Quanjude Roast Duck Restaurant. No, no, no, no. Not like that, you’ll sound like an idiot. It sounds something like Chuan-jyu-duah. It’s world famous you know. I skipped the mustard duck webs and stir fried duck tounges and went straight for the “Masterwork Duck,” along with a side of braised Chinese cabbage with chestnuts.

The skill of the master carver on display, tableside


Now that's how you make duck. Absolutely brilliant.

I spent the rest of the evening shopping on Wanfujing Avenue, which has a huge variety of plazas, restaurants, and shops, including many high end Western stores. After picking up a couple of cheap souveniers, I hit the subway and headed for “home.” My head hit the pillow and I crashed for the night. I would need my rest – tomorrow was going to be a big day.