I visited
Beijing in summer. It was hotter than the seven brass hinges of hell, more humid than
Houston, and the air pollution was the worse I have seen anywhere on the globe. It was
like breathing under water. I showered three times daily. Now that I’ve got that off
my chest, I must add that the visit was most satisfying.
This was my first visit to China, and I got a taste
early of what the English-only members of the groups that I organize and lead to Europe
must feel when they try to communicate with Europeans. However, most Europeans that
travelers encounter speak or understand some English. Not so in China. Shopkeepers and
taxi drivers typically speak no English. At the front desk at my hotel, which caters to
foreign tours, a basic question, like “should I leave my key here when I go out?”--a
document in the room said that one should--was received with an embarrassed blank stare.
After a huddle with four other clerks, the answer was a polite “no”.
I had heard that Chinese students like to practice their
English with visitors. I had hardly stepped into Tiananmen Square when I was approached by
a beginning college student who stayed with me for the next hour. He told me a bit about
the square and commented on the exhibits in the adjacent Chinese Revolution History Museum
as we strolled through. Afterwards we sat on the steps of the Museum, eating popsicles,
and he ruined the encounter by asking for "help" with lunch money and bus fare,
an amount that would have taken him halfway to Shanghai. Do what I did not do. Tell the
student that you would enjoy talking, but that you don’t need a guide.
My spirits were lifted later when two young girls in white
dresses and sun hats approached me. They said hello,
asked if I was enjoying my  visit to Beijing, and could they take my picture. We talked a
few minutes, and they quickly exhausted their store of English. Each had her picture made
with me, they said goodbye and left, chattering. In the Forbidden City, I had a pleasant
conversation with five cheerful Korean college students who were on holiday. Later in the
Wangfujing shopping district, I felt like a visiting dignitary when a whole class of seven
or eight year old children crowded around me to say hello, how-are-you, it-is-hot, and
Michael Jordan. Their teacher shooed them away, then stayed to talk.
The Chinese are confident in their English. Remember those
instructions for the made-in-China VCR? I had hardly left the Wangfujing conversation when
a man walked by wearing a T-shirt bearing a large picture of a basketball and the words,
"MAERICAN BASKETBALL". English captions on exhibits, and even brass tablets
fixed to the walls of structures in the Forbidden City and elsewhere, often are riddled
with misspellings and incorrect grammar.
The unpleasant weather did not prevent me and tens of
thousands of others, mostly Chinese, from visiting the attractions of Beijing. The
Forbidden City, officially the Palace Museum, was crowded with tourists. Originally built
in the early fifteenth century, the complex was home and seat of government to emperors.
It was not open to the public. Any citizen who strayed inside the walls of the city was
subject to death. The public was invited inside in 1949 following the successful communist
revolution.
Enter at the south entrance. Don’t stop at the kiosk
labeled "Tickets for Foreigners" near Tiananmen Gate. It lies. I stood in line
and was waved off by the clerk. Keep walking north, looking to the right for the ticket
office. The Y85 price (Y8.30=US$l at this writing) includes the rental of cassette player
and tape in English for the self-guided tour. It’s worth the price. They will ask for
a non-monetary security deposit which is returned at the check-in point at the north gate.
I left my California driver’s license.
 The buildings of the Forbidden City, mostly faithful
eighteenth and nineteenth century restorations and reconstructions, evoke a
civilization unfamiliar to most westerners. Spend the better part of a day here, stopping
the audio tape often to visit secondary structures not described by the narrator.
Don’t try to see them all; there are 800 buildings here.
South of the Forbidden City--a brisk walk or short taxi
ride--and associated with it in imperial history, is Tiantan Park. Here the emperor each
year presided over ceremonies that were meant to influence the fortunes of the coming
year. The rites particularly focused on supplications for good harvests. Enter at the
south entrance and visit the three principal structures: the marble three-tiered Round
Alter; the Imperial Vault of Heaven; and finally the magnificent Hall of Prayer for Good
Harvests, whose image is seen all over Beijing.
The park is the best place to see taiji (tai chi). Arrive
between, say, 6:00 a.m. and 7:30 a.m. to see Beijingers perform this gentle, fascinating
combination of dance, exercise, and meditation. Admission to the park is Y.50. I
mistakenly offered Y5. and the clerk accepted it. It was the only time in Beijing that I
was ripped off. The all-inclusive Y30 tourist ticket includes admission to all attractions
in the park. There is an acoustiguide, but I did not learn of it until halfway through my
visit so cannot comment on its worth.
The Natural History Museum is immediately west of Tiantan
Park and can be conveniently visited in conjunction with the park. The museum contains a
good dinosaur exhibit and the usual halls of local flora and fauna. Visitors, Chinese and
foreign alike, are fascinated with the pickled human cadavers that are cut open to show
internal structure and organs. Admission Y10.
The Lama Temple, smaller than the Forbidden City and not so
crowded with visitors, is equally interesting. The temple entrance is around the corner
and a short walk from the Yonghegong subway station. The temple is laid out as a wide
corridor which contains three elaborate archways and five principal halls that house
statues of Buddha in his various aspects. Formal gardens surround the structures. The
buildings and interiors, of different size and style, show a distinct Tibetan influence.
The temple in the mid-eighteenth century was designated as a lamasery and was administered
by Tibetan monks. Most of the monks today are Mongolian. Admission Y10, a real bargain.
No one should leave Beijing without walking on the Great
Wall. Three sites are accessible from the city. Most visitors see the wall at Badaling,
about forty-two miles northwest of the capital. This is the carefully reconstructed part
of the wall with guard rails that one sees so often in pictures of China. It is the
closest, most commercialized, comparatively expensive, and invariably crowded.
I opted for Simatai. Of the three sites that can be
visited, this section of the wall is the most isolated, least restored, most romantic,
and, I found to my dismay, the most difficult. When I stepped down from the bus, I looked
around and saw no wall. I followed the gaze of my co-passengers, and saw it. The wall ran
on the ridge line of a high mountain range a few miles away. My spirits sank.
"Pas de problème," said a French woman from the
bus. "There is a cable lift." I did not discover until near the top of the lift
that it covered only about two-thirds of the distance to the wall. The last third was a
trail of switchbacks up a slope that must have approached forty-five degrees.
After an exhausting climb, I reached the top and was
rewarded with a magnificent view of the wall snaking down the mountainside and up and over
the range beyond. With the cable lift at my back, I faced what had been enemy
territory: Mongolia. The wall here has no rails and is very steep and slippery in places.
As I climbed down from the wall, a party of French young people were moving their gear
into a watchtower where they would spend the night.
The best place for independent travelers to visit the
Great Wall is at Mutianyu. It is a compromise in all respects between the two other sites.
It is closer and less difficult than Simatai, less crowded and developed than Badaling.
There is a cable car. It is about fifty-four miles from Beijing.
The Summer Palace is another rewarding excursion from the
city. Here in the hills and gardens, around a  lake and in temples and
pavilions, the imperial court escaped the heat of the city. Today citizens and tourists
can visit the Hall of Benevolence & Longevity, Precious Clouds Pavilion, and Temple of
the Sea of Wisdom. One can also stroll, or do whatever one does, in the Garden of
Harmonious Pleasure. There is no way to escape crowds at the Summer Palace, but go on a
weekday anyway. Or in February, if you can avoid frostbite.
Beijing has a reputation for being expensive, but it need
not be. My hotel, the Qianmen Hotel, is conveniently located and priced at about $75.00
for a single, including tax. One can dine well and inexpensively. My dinners from the a la
carte menu at the Qianmen Hotel averaged $6-8. A sumptuous buffet breakfast was about $4.
Even a half duck and side dishes at the famous Qianmen Quanjude Roast Duck Restaurant was
only $11. Expect to be discriminated against when buying admission tickets for
attractions. Prices for foreigners are many times the price for Chinese. It’s
official policy to milk the tourist cow.
Transportation is reasonable. The subway is a flat Y2. My
typical taxi ride cost Y10.40, little more than $1. Look for the yellow taxis that have a
Y1.00 sign in the back window. For a bit more comfort and air conditioning, opt for the
taxi with a Y1.60 sign. The Y2.00 taxis are more upscale, but they typically do not have
meters, and you must bargain for the rate. I find that annoying. Avoid the pedicabs
altogether. I offered a pedicab driver Y10 to take me to a restaurant, a distance that
would have cost Y10.40 by taxi. He demanded Y30 and stalked away when I declined.
I was baffled a number of times when taxi drivers refused
to take me to a named destination. It must have something to do with the one-way street
system or their concern that they might not find a return fare. One driver, after first
refusing to take me to my hotel, about two miles away, relented and motioned me to get in.
For the next twenty minutes, he drove through deep Beijing, through twisting narrow lanes
of a residential district where food and wares of all sorts were offered for sale on the
pavement at the edge of the roadway and people sat in front of their houses, talking,
fanning, playing card games, trying to escape the heat. The drive was most interesting.
Finally arriving at the hotel, the meter showed Y10.40. I offered the driver Y15 since the
route had been long and difficult. He returned Y5 and pointed to the meter.
Tip: always take a good map, with both English and Chinese
place names. Also ask a hotel clerk to write the name of your destination in Chinese
characters. You’ll often need to show these to taxi drivers and others from whom you
request directions.
Some guide books suggest that biking is a good way to see
Beijing. Good luck. I wouldn’t advise it unless you have a death wish. Bicyclists and
pedestrians mix with moving vehicles as if they had the right of way. They do not. The
westerners that I saw riding bicycles did not look confident. One woman was stranded in
the middle of fast-moving cars and trucks that missed her by inches. She was laughing
hysterically. She’s probably there yet.
Buy the Lonely Planet Beijing
guide, the only reference you’ll need. By the way, if you must travel in summer, go
to Norway. Save Beijing for October.
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