She must not have gotten the memo. "What memo?" you say. I thought you'd never ask.
In light of the upcoming (at the time) Olympics, the Chinese government in its infinite wisdom, prepared a pamphlet for helping Chinese deal with foreigners. It was a thick booklet on things from etiquette to helping disabled guests to fashion tips. Common-sense things like "Don't spit" and "Don't stare at disabled people or say things like 'cripple' or 'lame' even if you are joking" were painstakingly listed. The best, though, was the fashion section. It said, in part:
Seriously, a nation of 1 billion people received these thoughtful tips. You'd think for all the money they spent printing those things, they would actually clean the air.
Alas I digress. Last time we met, I told you about our Great Wall adventure. Hiking 10 kilometers on the Great Wall has got to be the coolest thing I have ever done, hands down. I may have b*tched and moaned about 75% of the time but I did it and I loved it. I felt such a sense of accomplishment when we finished that I just wanted to keep going. So, our driver drove us back into town and dropped us off at the Temple of Heaven.
For those of you who watched the Olympics, you may remember that the marathon path passed by many of Beijings historic landmarks like Tiananmen Square, the Forbidden City and even the Great Wall. A lesser known landmark also en route was the Temple of Heaven which sits in the southeast corner of the city. We had arrived late in the day so the buildings were closed but we were able to take pictures and walk through the 267-hectare park. The temple itself is a perfect example of Ming design and it originally served as "a stage for solemn rites performed by the Son of Heaven, who prayed here for good harvests, and sought divine clearance and atonement for the sins of the people," according to Lonely Planet. We didn't see any elaborate rites being performed but we did note the architecture of odd numbered round tiers which supposedly represent heaven. All this math (and the back-breaking hike) was making my head hurt, so we headed back to the good old Holiday Inn for a well-deserved meal.
You can't go to Beijing without partaking in the local delicacy of Peking Duck. By the way, Peking is the old-school way of saying Beijing and many older Chinese still call it Peking. As they say in China, it is "same same." After washing the day's (and thousands of years' old rubble) away, we rushed back downstairs to see where Storm had arranged for us to feast.
Also waiting downstairs (yes, we were late, surprise, surprise) was an American brother-sister couple who were going to the same duck joint. The brother is one of America's finest serving in Korea and his sister had come to visit him from the States. They found themselves with an empty weekend and decided to pop over to Beijing to see the sights. We made fast friends with them and ended up having dinner together.
We rode together in a taxi and had to laugh when we realized that we were no longer on a major road but instead were being led into a hutong alley with only painted ducks on the wall to lead the way.
At the end of the alley, a large group of locals were waiting outside for a table. "This place *must* be good if all these people are lining up to eat here," I remarked. And, as always, I was not disappointed.
The Li Qun Roast Duck Restaurant isn't listed in any guidebook and it doesn't even really have a sign, just a few words scrawled on a brick wall indicating they "Welcome Overseas Guests Enjoying Traditional Cuisine in Old Chinese Courtyard." Pictures of celebrities from foreign heads of state to Al Gore lined the walls but the main attraction was the brick oven roasting our delicious long-necked friends.
That night we feasted on local beer, melt-in-your-mouth duck, fluffy pancakes, tarot root and steamed vegetables until we were too stuffed to move. So, imagine our surprise when, as we were finishing our meal, Storm showed up. Let me repeat: Our #1 Beijing Concierge SHOWED UP to the duck restaurant to make sure we had a good meal! It was 9pm people and he had been at work for 15 hours prior. We even asked him if he lived close by, to which he replied simply, "No." He had come to check on us and to get some duck bones for his dog. The man is amazing.
After a full night's sleep caused by a duck-induced coma, we awoke to our last day. After everything we had already done in 2 days, it must be hard to imagine what else was on our to-do list but alas we still had the Summer Palace and the Olympic buildings to see before our late afternoon flight.
The Summer Palace is 12 km out of the city and realistically should be considered a day trip. We had a few hours. In the spirit of National Lampoon's European Vacation ("Look kids, there's Buddhist Fragrance Pavilion and the Hall of Benevolence and Longevity!"), we sped through the immense 3 square kilometers of grounds, including the massive Kunmin Lake, that Chinese Emperors called home during the sweltering summer months. While Chinese families lazily picnicked on the lawns or paddle-boated on the lake, we ran from one important building to another, snapping pic's of Buddhas and beautiful architecture. OK, ok, you got me, they were taking pictures too.
The Summer Palace was decidedly cooler than in the city, so I could see why royalty took refuge here especially before the advent of air conditioning!
The one thing that really confused me was the Marble Boat at the north end of the lake. It doesn't move yet it doesn't sink. How does it do that!?!?!?
Finally, on our way to the airport, our driver (arranged by who else? Storm) drove us past the Olympic buildings. We weren't allowed in but we still managed to snap a few pictures of Birds Nest Stadium and the Water Cube. Our short but jam-packed trip was over and not a moment too soon. After a weekend of breathing Beijing's brownish-yellow haze, I stepped off the plane and took a long deep breath of Honky Town's hazy, cigarette-smoke and moth-ball scented air and declared "Hallelujah, I can breathe!"
