Franks travels

The Great Wall of China Finally in 2012, I made it to The Great Wall of China, a lifetime ambition, which I had failed in my two previous attempts. Sometimes the best laid plans fail; my two previous attempts were both mileage trips. The first was in 2008, prior to the Olympics. I was in line at the Chinese embassy for my visa, when I learned from a courier, that they had increased the fees, yesterday, from thirty to one hundred and twenty dollars. I tore up my application in disgust and walked out. The second attempt, I had planned flying into Shanghai for five days, then taking the new bullet train to Beijing for four days and meeting up with my friend, Rob Faulkner, who had come across an all in package to Beijing for twelve hundred dollars. (He was going with another friend of his from Brooklyn.) After I had booked it, I began thinking, it was all a bit to short on time, then three months prior to departure, one of the bullet trains crashed and the service was suspended. That sealed it, I cancelled everything. This trip on the other hand was very spontaneous, while looking on Continental’s website in February, for a fare deal to Japan, I spotted a bargain to Beijing for $752 round-trip, as I had a $100 voucher from the airline, it would bring the fare down to $652, an absolute steal. It is a thirteen hour flight, but having the right seat is the key. The aircraft was a Boeing 777 and row 32 is an emergency exit with a bulkhead, giving you not only plenty of leg room, but also space to get up and stretch. My favoured seats, window outbound to sleep, and aisle return, were both available, so I booked it immediately, for late March. The morning of Wednesday, March 21st, came around very quick. I arose at 4am in an attempt to adjust my body clock. After a good walk to limber up and a light breakfast, I headed off on my odyssey at 9am, leaving early due to my having to present my entry visa before check-in at the counter. Newark airport was amazingly quiet at ten thirty on a Wednesday morning; I virtually walked straight through security and into an empty Presidents lounge for a couple of gin Bloody Mary’s. My flight was scheduled for 1pm, so there was plenty of time for a good lunch before boarding. The great thing about taking long haul flights out of terminal C, is being able to dine at Gallagher’s steak house. Their steak sandwich is legendary, that, washed down with a couple of glasses of California cabernet, set me up perfectly for the thirteen hour flight. This was a similar routine that I had followed two years ago prior to a twelve hour flight to Honolulu. As we flew into Beijing, I was watching the movie, Easy Rider, on my Zune. I found this very amusing, a sixties movie about the drug and bike culture of America, as I flew into the supposed capital of communism. Customs and immigration was a breeze, I had planned on taking the train and subway into the city, which would require three changes, but I was feeling pretty knackered, so I got in line for a taxi. I had written to my hotel and requested their address in Mandarin characters for just such a situation. The driver did not recognize the address, so he called them on his cell phone, after a few nods and grunts we were off. Despite the traffic we got to my hotel in forty five minutes and the meter read ninety five Yuan (¥95), as my friend Rob, had I told me, it should. Beijing weather is very similar to New York City, the unusual warm spell that we had been experiencing in NYC, was even warmer there, the next five days were all forecast to be sunny with temperatures in the mid seventies Fahrenheit, low twenties, Celsius. I was checked in and unpacked by 5pm, it was a beautiful evening, so I decided to go explore the neighbourhood. Although rather tired I need to soldier on until at least 9pm. When I came out of the lane to the hotel, I turned left and past a few restaurants, the first one was a shabu shabu, also known as Chinese Hot Pot, it looked very nice, had an English menu in the window, so I would try it another day. After about ten or twelve minutes I came upon Rob’s, hotel, The Red Wall, now I knew I had walked north from the hotel, it was a very uninteresting looking area so I turned on my heel and headed back. When I got to my lane I kept heading south which would take me towards Tiananmen Square, but I did not want to get there in dusk, I wanted to see it for the first time in brilliant sunshine, tomorrow morning. I walked down to the next major intersection, where the taxi driver had made a wrong turn earlier, he had turned into The Jade Garden Hotel, I was at The Jade Hotel, close! It was getting dark quiet quickly, so I turned for home, when I was approached by a rickshaw driver, who wanted to take me to Tiananmen Square. He would not take no for an answer, I was surprised how good his English was, he inquired where I was from, where I lived, what hotel I was staying at, how long I was staying, had I been to China before. It was an inquisition, finally I told him I would return in the morning and he accepted that. Back at the hotel, there was a large sign as you entered the bar/restaurant, proclaiming their roast duck as “one of the best”, at the bar I got a beer and inquired about the duck. It was a whole duck, sliced with pancakes and fixings, I was planning on going to bed soon and that would be too much food. While I sipped my ½ liter bottle of Tsingtao beer (¥6, $.85) I saw a plate of dumplings come out of the kitchen, they would be perfect to quell my appetite. I ordered them and a Tiger beer, not realizing that it was four times the price of Tsingtao, they were both delicious, but I had a little sticker shock when I got the bill, ¥48, Tsingtao ¥6, Food ¥20, Tiger ¥22. Oh well, it’s not like I’m getting ripped off, $7:50!! Friday morning, I awoke at 7am after a solid ten hour sleep, I was now on Beijing time and ready to face the city, first stop Tiananmen Square. At the end of the Jade’s alley, I turned right on Beihayan Jie (street), as I walked south, I was joined by a polite young man, who inquired if I spoke English, when I said I was from England, he asked if he could walk and talk with me, sure. He said he was an art student from Mongolia, I said, ah, Ulaan Baatar, (the capital of Mongolia) he did not respond, so I knew immediately, it was just a story. I have heard all the art student rouse stories, but I needed to speak English with someone, so I pumped him for some information. After about ten or fifteen minutes, we got to the building which contained his gallery, but I just made my apologies and kept going. A few minutes later, I arrived at Dong Chang An Jie, a huge ten lane boulevard that traverses the city east to west. I turned right toward Tiananmen, on my right was a huge wall, but across the street were two huge public buildings, the first was the Ministry of Public Security, the second, The Museum of China. As I passed the entrance to Tiananmen East subway station, I got my first view of the Square and I was awed, it made the Plaza Mayor in Madrid or Trafalgar Square in London, look like children’s playgrounds. It was only 8:30am and already the area was packed with tourists, mostly Chinese, all following a tour guide, holding a flag on a long pole. I paused by the underpass entrance to take a photo, just as a Caucasian tour group came up, following their guide. A lot of them gave me strange questioning looks, was I lost? How could you be here on your own? Ha-ha. I walked in through the Tiananmen gate under the giant portrait of Mao Zedong, which leads to the southern entrance to The Forbidden City. This I was saving for another day, so I made a left into Zhongshan Park and was immediately enveloped into a quiet serene setting, far from the maddening crowd. I spent almost an hour enjoying the sculpted gardens and water features. One thing that did surprise was, a beautiful traditional one story building, that upon further investigation turned out to be a bumper car rink, all the cars were painted with the stars and stripes of the USA. Rather strange!! Exiting the park beside Tiananmen West subway, I used the pedestrian underpass to the main center of the square, I had expected to see food stands, considering the vast number of tourists, but there were none and I was starting to feel rather peckish, due to only having a cereal bar for breakfast in my haste. Wandering around, amid mostly Chinese tourists, (they all wear caps that match the tour guides flag) you begin to think about the student demonstrations in 1989 and the consequent killings. I wonder how many of these people have ever heard about it, probably very few. Further down the square is the magnificent mausoleum that houses Mao’s tomb, it was only 10am and the lines were absolutely enormous, or so I thought while standing in front, I moved to the left (east) and when I got to the corner, I saw the line extended and 200 yards and looped back on itself about eight times, wow. As I walked along the line, I remembered, that you cannot take anything inside with you. There were signs in English for lockers, but most notable, were the tour guides standing with their flags, guarding huge piles of backpacks and purses. When I got the end of the building, the same lines were repeated along the back and presumably along the west wall, there had to be somewhere in the order of 20,000 people in line. Next stop was the Temple of Heaven, which required two subways, first one stop east on the #2 line from Quinmen to Chongwenmen, then, two stops south on the #5 line to Tianmen East Gate. This was my first experience, but it proved to be easier to navigate than New York City’s subway, and infinitely cleaner. As I exited the station, I saw the Beijing Pearl Market, diagonally across the highway, with a pedestrian walkway connecting it. Surely I could find something to eat over there, if nothing else, I would get a view from the crosswalk. When I entered the market, I was greeted by a cacophony of young sales girls, “you likey, you buy here, best prices”, it was horrific, I turned on my heel and walked out, the hunger could wait, but realistically it could not. I had seen, from the crosswalk, that there was a Kentucky Fried Chicken down the street, but I really did not want American fast food. I walked that way in the hope that there would be other options, low and behold as I passed the end of the market, there was a little shack selling snacks and drinks. Most of the edible offerings were cake and candy so opted for a snickers bar and a can of Nespresso, protein and caffeine that would keep me going till lunch. I crossed back over the highway and entered the eastern gate; it was surprisingly quiet after Tiananmen, I walked west towards the temple passing a walled garden on the way. Sitting in the bright sunshine, on the low outer wall, were hundreds of people, segregated into male and female groups. All the men were congregated around card games, the women were split between mahjong (tile game) and knitting, a few were offering their brightly knit doilies for sale. The gathering had a jovial, family party, atmosphere about it. I came to a large wall with no gate through it, but I could see the impressive triple round turret roofs of the temple, (formal name, Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests, 祈年殿), with its glistening blue tiles (representing heaven) and intricate green/blue paintwork topped with a golden orb. I moved to my right, towards where there should be a north gate, but there was none. I carried on, anti clockwise, and came upon the west gate. As I entered, I got to view the temple in all its ancient oriental magnificence. The building sits atop a three tiered marble dais, with six sets of stairs leading up to the red wooden structure decorated with gold leaf, a work of art. People are not allowed inside the structure, but, there are three open doorways that you can look in to see the alter, where the emperor spent the night on the winter solstice, praying for good harvests. The interior is more ornately decorated than the exterior, in wonderful bright multi coloured paints, but predominantly, red and green, very pleasing on the eye. Walking south on the central pathway, I came upon a smaller version of the previous temple, The House of Heavenly Lord (or formal name, Imperial Vault of Heaven, 皇穹宇), this is surrounded by the Echo Wall, much like the whispering gallery at St. Paul’s cathedral, in London, in each, you can whisper something on one side of the circle and it will be heard on the other. It works in both. Further on, I came to the Round Alter, the raised center stone of which was considered the center of the earth. Interesting how they figured that one out? It was now lunch-time and I was starving. I was next to the south gate and nearer to the west than the east, but neither of them had a subway. As there was no food by the east gate, there was no reason to think there would be any at the others, so I made the long trek back to the subway. There is a subway station 10/15 minutes walk from the Jade, Dengshikou, which is four stops on the 5 line. When I came out of the station, I could not believe it, I was surrounded by five star hotels in every direction, The Legendale, The Regent, The Peninsula, Raffles, and Marriott. I was a little discombobulated, so I turned left opposite the Legendale and low and behold, there in front of me, was the Rolls Royce showroom, with Ferrari and Maserati next door. Oh yeah, this is a communist country. I looked back behind me, and saw the W hotel, several blocks away, so I knew I was heading north. I had seen the W, that morning while walking south to Tiananmen, with my Mongolian artist friend. I turned left and west at the next corner, by the Mercedes showroom; there were a few small restaurants, with several taxi’s parked in front. In most big cities, where the cabbies eat, is a good source of cheap, wholesome food and outsiders are welcome, but I doubted whether a western tourist, with no Chinese, would be welcome here, so I pushed on. Walking towards the Jade, I decided to have Shabu, Shabu. On the way, I pasted several fast food joints, KFC, Micky Dee’s and Burger King, I also past what was going to end up being my favourite duck restaurant. Maybe it was just as well that I did not go in that first day, or I would not have eaten anything else. Lunch was winding down when I got there, only a few tables were occupied and an army of young waitresses, dressed in bright red uniforms with gold epilates and buttons, were running around clearing tables. They were a little startled, when I walked in and indicated a table for one. I ordered a large beer while I perused the menu, which was in English. There were a few things I did not understand, but undeterred, I ordered, pork belly, mutton and tongue, all of which came with bean sprouts, noodles, cabbage and various dipping sauces. The gas ring in the middle of my table was fired up and the boiling stock pot was placed above it in readiness for the meat. All the waitresses started to attend to the already cleaned and set tables around me, snickering to each other; I guess I was the afternoon’s entertainment! A few minutes later the food was presented and there was an expectant hush, followed by an audible sight, as I nimbly chose a piece of meat with my chopsticks and dumped it into the broth followed by a leaf of cabbage and some noodles. They were very disappointed and all wandered off to finish their cleaning chores. I was feeling very chuffed with myself, having eaten Shabu-Shabu in Tokyo and New York City’s, Korea-town, really paid off. Completely sated and totally wrecked, it was time for a nap and I was very glad my bed was just around the corner. After a ninety minute power nap, I arose and felt totally refreshed, it was about 4:30pm and sunset would be at approximately 6:30. I had read in some guide book, that the sunset from the hilltop in Jingshan Park, overlooking The Forbidden City, was spectacular, so, as it was only a thirty minute walk, no time like the present. Leaving the Jade, I turned right this time, zigzagging my way through the hutong alleys, towards the eastern wall of the Forbidden City (aka, Palace Museum). I had expected to come out at the moat, but the whole far side of the street (Jie) was lined with one and two story buildings, housing an assortment of businesses from bar/restaurants to auto/bicycle repair shops. Very shoddy looking compared to the gated residences that lined my side of the street. I turned right and north, within a few minutes, I arrived at the end of the shoddy buildings and a beautiful panorama opened in front of my eyes. Stretched out westward, towards the setting sun, was the northern section of the moat, running from the imperial North East tower, past the regal North gate to the equally imperial North West tower. It was breath-taking. Of course, being such a beautiful spot, I was immediately set upon by a gaggle of entrepreneurs offering their wares and rickshaw rides. Nobody takes, NO, for an answer, you actually feel like hitting them, but the best thing, is to scurry away as fast as possible, even then the rickshaws follow you. I walked along the bank of the moat till I got to the palace gate, then crossed the jie to the park entrance, which was another, very elaborately decorated building with what appeared to be an equally elaborate temple up on the summit behind it. When I finally climbed my way up there, I started to think all the old buildings were identical! This is the highest natural point in the city and the view over the Forbidden City was spectacular, but unfortunately, whoever had written the article I had read about the sunset had taken some literary liberties. The Palace was directly south of me and the setting sun was far off to my right/west, never the less, I drank in the view, Beijing has some of the most cutting edge architecture in the world. I traversed down the hill to exit the west gate, I knew it was just a short walk to Beihai Park, which is set on an island in Beihai lake. All of the temples were closed, so I just walked around the perimeter path, past, what now seemed the exact same design of building. The island is dominated by a white pagoda that resembles an old hand bell. I exited the south gate and looked for a taxi, but of course it was now rush hour and there were none to be had. I walked back along the north moat, which was crowded with photographers looking for the perfect sunset shot reflecting in the moat, I got mine at the northeast corner. By now, my feet were killing me. A rickshaw man persistently kept offering to take me to my hotel for just ¥2, so against my better judgment, I got in. Off we went and I’m thinking, “how can he do this for just ¥2”, if there was no con involved, I would give him a good tip. After just a couple of minutes we were at my hotel, I jumped off and went for my wallet; he also jumped off and reached to get his wallet out. I thought, why? He is not going to give change, but he produced a fare card and pointed out, hotel ¥200. I said, no, no-no, and pulled out ¥40, he started to scream and jump up and down. At this point, the lane/alley matron (woman dressed in military jacket that sits in a guard hut) came up and started to laugh at him. I looked at her and got the picture, she has seen this stunt before. I gave her a wink and threw a ¥20 note at him, he went ballistic, but I just turned on my heel and walked into the hotel. There was nothing he could do, the matron was killing herself with laughter and I was feeling rather chuffed with myself. I rewarded myself with a large bottle of Tsingtao beer, it went down so smooth. I had planned going out to find a good duck restaurant, but I was totally knackered and my feet were killing me. I inquired from the waiter about their Peking Duck, it was a whole duck for ¥72 and had to be ordered one hour in advance. Perfect, I ordered it, grabbed another beer and went upstairs for a shower. Upon my return, I ordered a bottle of Great Wall cabernet and a few minutes later, my duck was served. It was presented on two swan like platters, my first impression was swans, but upon reflection, I suppose they were meant to represent ducks. They were long white oval platters with curved necks to a head at one end and a feather decoration at the other. The duck was sliced into very thin pieces, but they had discarded the legs and wings, very disappointing. It was accompanied by a basket of thin pancakes, scallions, celery and hoisin sauce. I dipped a piece of duck in the sauce and rolled it in a pancake with pieces of celery and scallion, delicious. I was getting some very envious looks from the other diners, most of whom were backpackers, for whom this would be a large splurge. After dinner, I went over to the couchette area to talk with an older gentleman, whom I had briefly said hello to, the previous evening. His name was Bob, and he was a retired school teacher, from Pittsburg, he had grown bored with retirement and decided to come to China in search of a job, teaching English. I was amazed at his pluck; he was seventy six years old and had never traveled before. His grand-daughter, had given him an I-Pad to stay in touch, but he had no idea how to use it. The first fact he had found out was; the Chinese government would not issue a work permit to anyone over fifty nine. Now he was thinking about a private tutor work, but had no idea how to go about it. I borrowed his I-Pad, opened the Google app and typed in, “private English tutor positions”, it came back with thousands of results, he was astounded!! Bob, had been in Beijing two weeks and had hardly been anywhere, only places within walking distance, he was completely intimidated by any form of public transit, but I explained the subway is super easy, just ¥2 flat rate, even easier than New York City, which he had been on, so he promised to try it. Likewise, buses are only ¥1, for taxis, just get reception to write the address in Mandarin and take a card for the return trip. Saturday morning I was up bright and early, as I was in no hurry, I stuck my head into the restaurant to see what the breakfast buffet had to offer. The western offering was bacon and scrambled eggs, the Chinese looked like chow mien. For ¥20, I decided to give it a go, how bad could it be, actually, it turned out to be good value. As I finished up, Bob, arrived and inquired where I was off to? When I told him the Winter Palace, he was awed; I explained it was an easy subway ride and would give him details later. I set off for Dengshikou subway station, from there it would be seven stops on the #5 line to Huixinxijue Nankou, then eight stops on the #10 line to Haidian Huagzhuang, then three stops on the #4 line to, Beigongmen, Old Summer Palace, it took just under an hour, but I did not get a seat until near the end of the #10 line and got one on a virtually empty #4. I had hoped that this far out of the city, the line might have gone above ground, but it didn’t. Exiting the station, I was confronted with a familiar dilemma, left or right. More people were going left than right, so I went left, but then realized most of them were going to bus stops. A few were carrying on, so I figured I’d follow them past the traffic light, where the road forked and see what was ahead. I lucked out, there was the north gate entrance and no lines. I bought the multi attraction ticket, I had no idea what I was getting, but it was only ¥50. After walking through the gate there was a bridge over a river, upon closer inspection, there was a small village on the banks, called Suzhou Street, this was the first attraction, so good job I had purchased the multi pass. It was a very steep, winding stone staircase, down to the river, which I navigated with great trepidation, some of the steps were 15 to 18 inches high and there was no railing, just granite walls. Two thousand years ago, things were not built tourist friendly. Amazingly, there ware still great sheets of ice on the river, even though the temperature was in the seventies, Fahrenheit. Although all the buildings on both banks were now restaurants and souvenir shops, back in the day, when they were built, they would have housed the boat builders and sailors to maintain the vessels for the emperor’s enjoyment of Lake Kunming. Across the river was a wide stone staircase leading up to what looked like the back of the Summer Palace, at the top of the first big staircase, there was a corrugated iron fence, but one section had been ripped away and people were pouring through it. Naturally, I followed suit, but I could not help feeling, something was wrong. Sure enough, after climbing several steeper stone staircase, there were more corrugated iron fences, which had been more securely erected. A few young fit guys were able to scale them and they were passing their girlfriends over, but for most people, myself included, it was the turn around point. I did manage to scale a large rock formation, for a peek over the fence and could see the Buddha temple on the other side, facing the lake and another series of smaller temples on the lake shore to my left (east). I trudged back down to Suzhou Street and turned right along the river, it was a really nice shaded rolling path that finally, after about twenty minutes, came to another small Suzhou style village at the end of the river. It was not one of the multi attractions on my ticket, but because of the beautiful ponds and gardens, I found it much more interesting than Suzhou Street. After a brief respite I continued down the path to the lake, where it was a lot more crowded. This was the east gate entrance and there was a large bus parking lot, this was obviously the tour drop off point and there were long lines for tickets. From the small pier, there was a very good view of the actual palace and Buddha Temple, but it was a long walk around the lake and a lot more climbing. There was a lot of construction around the east gate and having seen the barriers at the back of the palace, it was only reasonable to assume there would be more at the front, so, I decided to call it a day. Exiting via the east gate, I followed the palace walls back around to the subway. Returning to the city center, I went one more stop on the subway to Dongdan station, which is on the main east-west artery. Coming up the escalators, I found myself in a very upscale mall, which turned out to be Oriental Plaza, it reminded me instantly of Tokyo. I instinctively started to look for an exit, when I got the wafting smell of beef curry. It was lunchtime and I was starving, I just happened to be standing in front of the entrance to the food hall. I followed the scent and just a few stores down, I came upon a curry fast food counter, I ordered beef curry with rice and a beer, perfect. Exiting the mall on Dong Chang An Jie, I turned right towards Wangfujing Street, which is closed off to vehicular traffic and is famous for its night street food market, huge varieties of fish and all sorts of bugs and insects are roasted on sticks. With this in mind, I was totally deflated when I made the right turn into Wangfujing and was confronted with a thirty foot high, McDonalds sign, followed by an equally sized KFC sign, both stores had huge lines of people at the counters, unbelievable. After a few blocks, with the exception of no traffic, I could have been walking on Fifth Avenue in New York or Regent Street in London, such was the array of foreign brand stores, Rolex, Zara, Nike, Tag Heuer, Coach, Armani, Cartier etc, a heavy lean towards watches, but all the European designers were present, communism at it’s finest! Wandering up the street, I was twice approached by Tibetan artists. Two just wanted to take me to look at their work, but the third wanted to go for a drink and a chat to practice his English. This is one of the worst scams, they already have an arrangement with the proprietor of either the pub or coffee shop, after a few rounds, they go to the bathroom and never come back, you are then presented with a hugely inflated check and have no choice but to pay it. At the end of the pedestrian part of Wangfujing, my feet were aching and my throat partched. I had looked up Irish pubs in Beijing before leaving New York and had found Molly Malone’s, which I remembered was in this neighbourhood. I had had the fortitude to put the address, in Mandarin, in my phone. I showed it to the traffic cop standing at the corner and he pointed to his right. I walked a few blocks, but still saw nothing, I was walking past the Novotel, so I popped in to ask the concierge, I was on the right track, he directed me to go past the next major intersection and then the next left, it should be right there. When I got down to the intersection, I recognized it as the same one I was at yesterday, the next left was the Legendale Hotel on the left side and the Rolls Royce dealership opposite, maybe it’s in the hotel. I walked up and showed my phone to the doorman, he smiled and opened the huge wooden door, beckoning to a bellman. After a few words, he bade me to follow him through the plush lobby, down a flight of stairs across an alley, up another flight of stairs and viola, I was in the back of any upscale Irish pub, I could have been in New York, London or Dublin. Oh well, might as well have a beer while I’m here. I was not about to try the Guinness, so I ordered a Carlsberg. The place was virtually empty, except for another Caucasian a few stools away. When I got my beer, I toasted it towards him and said cheers, not knowing if he would understand, but he said cheers back, with a Scandinavian twang. I inquired where he was from, he told me a town in Norway, which I had never heard of, he said it was in the far north, above the Arctic Circle. I inquired about the Aurora Borealis, he said it is a daily show during the winter nights, which last twenty hours. He then went on to complain how much he hated Beijing, how people were trying to sell him things all the time and others trying to rip him off. Ha ha, I just laughed at him, its life in any big city, why did you come here? He explained he was getting married and someone told him this is the best place to get a great deal on a diamond and platinum engagement ring. I was puzzled, he came half way around the world, spending thousands of dollars or krone to save a few on a ring, when Antwerp, Belgium, the wholesale capital of diamonds was just down the road! This guy was an idiot! I called for my check and was a bit surprised, it was ¥100, two Carlsbergs ¥50 each. I wandered out the front door into the bright afternoon sunshine and, voila, there was the Rolls Royce dealership across the street, I had been blinded by the bling. After a nice nap, it was time to head across town to another Irish pub, Paddy O’Shea’s, which my friend, Rob Faulkner, had found on his trip. I needed to see the Premier League game, Chelsea vs Tottenham Hotspurs from London, I was not sure what time it started 7:45pm or 8:45pm, so I wanted to be there by 7:30pm to get a good seat and eat. The directions I had downloaded from the website, in Mandarin, included the notation, that the pub was located across the street from the Canadian Embassy. When I hailed a taxi and gave the woman the address, it included the notation. I had looked up the location, so I knew approximately where I was going, when she turned into the express lane of Dong Zhi Men Da Jie, I had a feeling something was wrong. Sure enough, a couple of lights later, we were in the outside express lane as we flashed past the pub, but it was on the inside service road. I indicated for the driver to take the next left U turn and she looked very agitated. I think she had read the directions as being to the Canadian Embassy, I indicated for her to pullover as soon as we made the U turn, which further agitated her, she pointed out that the address was further up. I managed to convince her I was okay by offering cash for the fare, which was very reasonable, ¥22 for a twenty minute trip, much better than the rickshaw, I gave her ¥30 and she was delighted. I crossed back over the intersection, got some money out of the Bank of China, ATM, and then walked up the street to the pub. I walked in and it was like walking into one of the Irish football bars in New York, shirts, scarves and flags representing all the major European clubs, hanging everywhere, but there was a predominance of Manchester United. The chalkboard indicated that the game was on at 8:45pm, so I had over an hour to kill. A quick glance at the menu, confirmed there was nothing on it that I would eat, except in an emergency. As I turned to leave, the Irish manager, Sean, approached to ask what I needed, I explained, I was here for the Spurs game and was going to get something to eat. He asked where I was from, I briefly explained my New York-London-Irish lineage, he inquired, which county my family was from? I told him, Longford, but I visit Kildare more, and was there last week. Great, he said, “I’m from Wicklow”. “Wow, what a coincidence”, I said, we went to Brittas Bay last Sunday week, do you know it? “Know it”, he said, “we used to go there every year for our summer holidays and stayed in a caravan”. I bade him adios and headed out the door, thinking, maybe I should have asked him where to go, but nah, winging it is more fun. I turned left out the door, continuing in the direction I had come from, towards a brightly lite junction, at which, I instinctively turned left again. Sure enough, there were several restaurants, but all were virtually empty and all were very high decor. I was looking for the local mom n’ pop joint, but of course this was the Embassy district, they were catering to diplomats and their staff. I pressed on for another few hundred yards and suddenly got a powerful smell of BBQ. I looked around and across the street in a parking lot; a guy was flipping meats on a large grill. Naturally I wandered over, there was an open terrace with a few patrons sat at plastic furniture. The table nearest the fire was empty, I wonder why? I indicated that I wanted to sit and the grillman waved me to go ahead, I got a few strange looks, but what the hell. The waiter came over and I indicated one beer, he nodded, then I pointed at the grill, where he was cooking large chicken wings and indicated six, again he nodded, no problem. The ice cold large ½ liter can of beer came almost immediately, after about ten minutes, a plastic basket of huge wings, with BBQ sauce, was plopped in front of me, they smelled delicious, but were way to hot to handle, it was probably another ten minutes before I could pick one up, they were fantastic, I ordered another beer. If it had not been Spurs playing, I would have blown off the game and just stayed there, he now had pork strips on the grill, but I was running out of time, damn. I called for the bill, which the busboy brought, wow, ¥18, six each for the beers and one each for the wings, I gave him ¥20 and he beamed a huge smile at me, another wow, that had been such a wonderful experience, I was beaming from ear to ear. When I returned to the pub, Sean, was behind the bar and waved me to one of two free stools right in front of the screen, which he was going to show the Spurs game on. He inquired if I would like to try the Guinness? What the hell, I gave it a go. I’m sure if you are away for a long time it would be fine, but having just been in Ireland, it was very bitter, Sean noticed my wince, he said “you get used to it”, not tonight I won’t, said I, “I’ll have a Carlsberg next”. He then inquired where I went to eat. He was most surprised when I told him about the BBQ place, “best BBQ in town” he said, “but did not think you would end up there, I’m always the only westerner”. Just then, another chirpy cockney sat on the stool next to me and inquired, “Sean, is the Spurs game on”, right here I replied. We introduced ourselves, Jonathon, was from Hackney, not a place I have fond memories of, but it’s still North London. I asked how he knew Sean? He explained he work for the Bank of China in London and regularly got sent to Beijing and Shanghai. I had assumed he was a fellow Spurs supporter, but he wagged his finger at me, no, no, no. Oh no, he was a gooner, an Arsenal fan, our sworn enemies. This happens so often, our two clubs are only a few miles apart in North London, oh well, it was good to talk to a fellow Londoner. Turned out he was not as anti Spurs as most gooners, he actually had some good opinions. The game ended in a nil, nil draw, which was a pretty good result for Spurs, we usually lose at Chelsea. Jonathon, left as soon as the game was over, I asked why he was not staying for the arsenal game at 11pm, he said he was going to watch it in bed at his hotel, he was staying at the Ritz Carlton, which he was not impressed by. I watched the post game show while I finished my beer and got my tab, not as bad as Molly Malone’s, but still very expensive for China, ¥55 for the Guinness and ¥30 for the Carlsberg. I crossed the boulevard and caught a taxi going in the right direction, I was home in twenty minutes, again the meter read ¥22, so again I gave him ¥30. When I got to my room, I checked the TV to see which game I could get, sure enough, it was Arsenal vs Aston Villa, but I was too tired and didn’t really care. Sunday morning I was up bright and early, The Forbidden City opened at 9am and I wanted to be there before the crowds. I bounced downstairs for breakfast at 7:30am, looking forward to more bacon and eggs but this mornings offering was not as appealing, small Vienna style sausages (frankfurters), which I’m not to keen on and fried eggs, which were almost cold. I made two fresh slices of toast, buttered them and plopped an egg on each, voile, two decent egg sandwiches, which would last me the morning. I got to the main gate at 8:45am and there were no lines at the ticket windows, but there were huge lines of organized tours, all wearing colour coordinated baseball caps, lined up behind, pennant waving tour guides. Luckily, there was a barrier corridor in the middle of all the tours for individuals, hurray. Upon entry through the gate, you are immediately confronted by a huge central palace with smaller buildings and courtyards on either side. I was struck by the symmetrical nature of all these structures, which was confirmed by my inspections of both left and right sides. This would substantially cut down on the time and walking distances to explore the whole Palace, a good thing. I developed a plan; most of the large groups were staying in the middle, up and down the steps of the large Palaces, so I would stay on the periphery, checking out the courtesan quarters and then just cutting in and out to see the main Palaces. It worked like a charm and I got to see some beautiful exhibitions of, clothing, armor, pottery and jewelry. All the outer courtyards were different, whereas the central Palaces were much of the same. Eventually, I came upon a small garden with the inevitable gift shop. Normally I would give this a miss, but, this is the Forbidden City. I went in to take a look and was presently surprised, they had some very nice items, perfect for my God-daughter and siblings, at very reasonable prices, I loaded up, why not, these were quality goods, compared to the crap on Wangfujing Street. Exiting through the North Gate, I immediately realized most of the people were being ushered towards their tour buses, which were protected by a barrier and a line of police. I on the other hand, along with a few other small groups, had to run the gauntlet of the souvenir hawkers and inevitable rickshaw drivers, outside the barrier. I instantly had the horrible vision of being spotted by my driver from Friday night, but then thought, I would not know him, so, why should he recognize me. One rickshaw guy did latch on to me, but after ten minutes of walking and ignoring him, he finally gave up. I walked back to The Jade with my souvenirs; put my feet up with a beer to contemplate lunch. As I sipped my beer, I started to write some of the postcards I had purchased at the gift shop. I had noticed a post box at the end of the lane, but where to buy stamps, that was the question, so I popped down to the front desk. I was directed to walk towards the subway, at Wangfujing Street, turn right and just past the Catholic Church was the Post Office on the left. A Catholic Church in Beijing? That I have to see and Wangfujing Street could solve lunch. I headed out immediately and found the church in ten minutes, but unfortunately it was closed, but it was Sunday! I walked across the square and there was the Post Office and it was open!! A dozen stamps were ¥60, ¥5 each, not bad. Walking down Wangfujing, I came upon two duck restaurants, each proclaimed to be Beijing #1, but both were overly gaudy, so I passed. Further on, I was tempted by Kentucky Fried Chicken, how would it taste? I thought twice, but what the hell, in I went. Only to turn right around and back down the stairs, it was jammed and the decibel level was comparable to a Jumbo jet taking off. Now what? Two blocks down was the Galleria where I had curry yesterday, it had a huge food court, so I headed there. Sure enough, after just a few minutes, I came upon a Japanese fast food counter, which smelled delicious. I opted for the Teriyaki Salmon, brown rice, edema and a ginseng tea, healthy fast food, it was delicious. Wandering out into the bright afternoon sun, I wanted nothing more to do with Wangfujing Street, so I figured I would take the #1 subway line east to the World Trade Center, where I had glimpsed some amazing architecture on the way in from the airport. It was only four stops to Guomao, naturally I came out of the wrong exit, I was in front of the Beijing Park Grand Hyatt, a very impressive hotel, but I would have to negotiate a rather complex intersection to get a good picture of the main building I had come to see, the new CCTV HQ. I could not believe it, on the island under the flyover, was a McDonald’s, incredibly they are everywhere. When I finally got to the other side the World Trade center, it was not very impressive, just another convention center, but when I turned the corner of the Beijing Kerry Center, my breath was taken away by the sight of the CCTV building. It is just about the most complex modern building that I have ever seen, resembling a large N, two fifty story towers, the bases, built approx one hundred and twenty meters apart at forty five degree angles, tilting towards each other at approx twenty degree angles and connected atop, by a twelve story, forty five degree canopy, very unusual. I decided not to investigate The Kerry Center, although I knew it had some unique shopping destinations, but, it was still just another mall. Returning to the subway, I caught the #10 line north eleven stops to Beitucheng, where I changed to the #8 line, for one stop to the Olympic sport complex. I must say, I have seen a lot of stadiums in my life, but the Birds Nest takes the cake, it is a very impressive arena. On the other hand, the aquatic center, which had looked so impressive on television, looked down right drab. When I finally got back to the Jade, I was exhausted, I had planned going out to find another duck restaurant, but there was no way I could take one more step. I had a 7:30am appointment to go to the wall on Monday and that was the trip priority. After chilling out with a cold beer, I ordered the in-house duck and went to have a shower. Returning an hour later, I found Bob sitting on the couch, playing with his I Pad. I stopped to say hello and enquire where he had been for the day, nowhere, he had been going through the search results I had found for him. Full marks, he was determined to find some interviews for the upcoming week. After I finished my duck, I took the remains of my Great Wall wine and joined Bob on the couch, he had been to the Forbidden City so we could compare notes, but he was intrigued how I had gotten to the Olympic Village and also wanted details, how to get to the Summer Palace via subway, I was only to glad to make notes in his I Pad. I told him about my impending trip to the wall in the morning which I had booked through the front desk, I promised to report back to him tomorrow evening. It was time for an early night, tomorrow was the highlight of the whole trip. I was scheduled to be picked up at 7:30am, so I set my alarm for 6am, but I beat it by fifteen minutes, I was so excited. Showered, I was down waiting for breakfast to be set up at five to seven, I was hoping it would be bacon and eggs again, but unfortunately, it was warm ham and hard boiled eggs, so I just made a couple of egg and ham sandwiches. As I tucked into my brekkie, three American teenage girls came in, chatting about how excited they were to be going to The Wall. Almost immediately, they were followed by several more, all of a sudden the room was full of American high school kids and the volume was deafening. I had a frightening flashback to my horrific bus trip into Denali National Park in Alaska, several years ago with a group of high school seniors. I hurriedly finished my breakfast and went to inquire at the desk, if they were on the same trip as me? The girl knew nothing about their plans. Just as panic started to set in and I was thinking, “this cannot not happen to me again”, a small minibus pull up at the front door and the desk clerk motioned for me to go out and meet it. It was indeed my tour and from the size of the bus, obviously not theirs, I heaved a huge sigh of relief. A few blocks down the road, we stopped at The Forbidden City Hotel where about another seven people joined us. I judged this was the tours HQ, as our tour guide, Lucy, took all her paperwork inside, while the new guests boarded. I immediately noticed three girls who were all in their twenties and obviously Irish, two of them sat in the seat opposite me, the other in front. Had his not been such a one off trip, I would have done the gentlemanly thing and swapped seats with he one in front, but I had the only solo seat with a clear window (no partition) and a shade that rolled all the way up. Lucy got back on and explained the trip, it would take approx two hours to get there, our ticket included the bus, entrance to the wall and lunch at a local restaurant, it did not include the cable car/chair lift to the top of the wall. She had an arrangement with the chair lift for discount tickets but no deal with the cable car. You could of course travel with either or indeed buy a one way on each, but we all went with Lucy’s suggestion. We set off at ten to eight and everyone gave a big, hurrah, but it was sort lived. Lucy’s phone rang and she announced that another of their buses was over loaded, so we would have to meet them. Our moods were tempered during the wait for the other bus (by an outdoor exercise park, which at first looked like a children’s playground, but upon closer examination, it was elderly people doing their morning calisthenics, brilliant idea. All the equipment was big brightly coloured plastic apparatus). With his lull, I asked the two opposite me, what part of Ireland they were from? One of them said, the middle, I asked, could you be more specific? She elaborated, Athlone, ah said I, Westmeath. They were shocked that I knew this; I explained the usual, born in London, parents from Longford, living in New York City. They were fascinated and intrigued that I had come so far for just five days, but I was more intrigued, how they were there on a two week holiday, when Ireland was in such dire financial straits. They explained that they were all school teachers working in Dubai, instead of taking their contracted flights home for half term, they exchanged them for tickets to China. Flying into Beijing and return from Shanghai, they were taking the bullet train to Shanghai, my previous plan. But what a coincidence this was, last Christmas, I had flown to Ireland via Frankfurt, Germany (cheaper fare and more elite miles), on my Lufthansa flight to Dublin, I was sat next to a young girl from Bray, County Wicklow and she was really excited about going home and seeing her family. I asked if she worked in Germany. No, she said, I am a school teacher in Dubai. I told the story to the girls and they could not believe it, they did not know her intimately, but did know of a girl in another school who was from Wicklow. They would look her up when they went back. I would love to have seen the look on her face when they explain this. We eventually got to the Mutianyu section of the wall just after 10am, virtually everyone on he bus slept, but I found the scenery fascinating. After passing the airport, the traffic thinned out to almost nothing, especially after we passed a couple of retail and industrial parks, whose vast parking lots were almost empty. After that we only saw the occasional three wheel pick-up or truck, even in the towns an villages we passed through, there were very few cars, quiet a contrast to Beijing. Upon arrival, Lucy announced that lunch would be served in the little restaurant she had pointed out down the road, at 2:30pm. The bus would leave at 4pm sharp, and we had till then to do what we wanted. Lucy stood by the chair lift ticket window, while we bought our discounted tickets, (¥80 instead of ¥120) and handed out the Wall passes. Some people actually inquired if they could walk up, sure Lucy said, but it will take you a while. Although we were high up in the mountains, only small parts of the wall were visible from the parking lot, it was much higher up a very steep grade. I learned later that they had not only scaled the step gradient, they also ran the length of the Mutianyu section of wall, while not very long, only two and a half kilometers, it is all up and down, but also climbed back down. This section of the wall is the furthest from Beijing and gets the least amount of tourists, which suits me fine, this morning, by Chinese standards, it was virtually deserted. The two and a half kilometers covers twenty two watch towers, the chair lifts goes up to tower five, while the cable car goes to tower fourteen. The choices upon reaching tower five were completely opposites, the wall down to tower four was extremely steep with an even steeper climb up to tower three, my knee hurt just looking at it. Turning towards towers six, seven and eight, while still very undulating were nowhere near as extreme as what lay behind me. It was a glorious sunny spring day, not a cloud in the sky and temperatures heading towards the low 80’s F (high 20’s C), with this in mind, I had brought a 2 liter bottle of vitamin fortified water with me, much to the chagrin of a little lady sitting in the shade of tower six, who was selling refreshments (beer, soda & water) and snacks. A young guy was arguing with her over the price of a snicker bar, she wanted ¥30, he said it should be ¥3, she was winning, of course. I climbed onto the roof of tower six and could see the three Irish girls far in the distance, between towers eight and nine. The view from the top of the tower was even more magnificent than from the wall, even though it was only twenty feet higher. It was obviously strategic, as one could see the base of the wall and there for direct defenses. The wall appeared to be on the ridge of every mountain, in every direction, making the engineering feat more impressive than it already was. I have seen documentaries on television about how the wall was built on the borders with Mongolia, where the terrain is flatter, but how they built this colossus on top of all these mountains is truly mind boggling. After passing tower eight, I sat down to rest and was joined by a gentleman who had been sat in the back seat of the bus, he introduced himself as Lars, he was from Finland (my second Scandinavian in two days!) and in Beijing on business. We made some small talk about travel and then I moved on, I was anxious to make it as far as I could. Naturally I was snapping photos of everything in sight, but as I approached tower twelve, the perfect picture was framed in front of me. Tower twelve with the wall rising up behind it to towers thirteen and fourteen on the next ridge. I took some self portraits but then an Indian woman and her daughter walked up and offered to take some of me, I in turn took a few of them. When I exited twelve, up a very steep but short staircase, I was confronted with a rather daunting sight, ahead of me there was a monstrous staircase up to thirteen, my knee twitched, that was it, the end of my walk on the wall. I sat down on a large stone, (that had been situated to house a small cannon), to contemplate my achievement so far, I was quiet proud of myself. Within moments I was jointed by my huffing and puffing Finnish friend, he was way over dressed for the weather and terrain. I myself had worn a lightweight all-weather jacket for the morning chill, which I now had tied around my waist and I was now sporting my 2006 Chinese Formula One polo shirt, which I had bought at the race in Shanghai. It was getting some very quizzical and admiring looks. Despite the heat, Lars was not deterred by the stairs ahead, he purchased a beer (¥40, cheap for Finland) from the little old lady who had set up shop in the shadow of twelve, he downed it in one gulp and bid me adieu. I watched jealously as he lurched off into the distance, such is the price of only having one good knee. I took a swig of my vitamin water and headed back. Upon my arrival back at Tower five, I again contemplated the steep steps down to four, but thought better of it. The chair lift had an alternative means of descending down to the base, a toboggan sled that ran in a snaking concrete trough. It sounded exciting, but after watching for about ten minutes from the wall, it was very anti-climactic. Very stop start, as most people could not figure out how to apply the brakes gently going around the bends, there for clogging up the track and forcing the operators to suspend service every few minutes. If you could have a clear run, with nobody in front of you, it would be very exhilarating, so long as you did not crash! Of course, there was a very long line, which was another deterrent, besides, the view from the chair lift looking out into the valleys and the village below, was quiet breath taking. I opted for the chair. While descending and enjoying the panoramic views, I was not paying much attention to the people coming up, but a blond woman dressed in red, caught my attention. Not because of her blond hair, but because she was clutching twin blond boys, approx three years old. In the chair behind her, was her equally blond husband, clutching a huge backpack and a double stroller. I admired their gusto, but they were not going to get very far with that lot. Below me on the toboggan run, there were a lot of angry voices, nobody was getting up to speed for long. I had taken note of the guy with the brightly coloured ski jacket, who set off at the same time that I got in the chair lift, he arrived just before me. I had meant to buy a can of beer from the old lady at tower six, but I had breezed right past her, not realizing it until I back at five. Now, I was parched, so I headed for the Italian Expresso/Ice Cream parlor, where I got a ½ liter bottle Tsingtao for ¥30, a much better deal than the ¥40 per can up top. I took my beer outside to where all the coach drivers were smoking, drinking coffee and playing cards, they were almost as loud as the American teenage girls earlier, so I did not get to relax, enjoy my beer and revel in the moment. After looking around all the souvenir stands, most of whom were selling the same tat, I was in the mood for another beer but not the commotion, so I carried on down the hill towards the restaurant Lucy had pointed out. On the way I came across a Subway sandwich shop, there was no way I was crossing that threshold, I carried on and low and behold, I came upon a London taxi, I had seen one in Beijing on Saturday, surely this could not be the same one: Just around the bend was the restaurant, it was not even 1:30pm yet, so I had a long wait. All the outdoor tables were full, so I wandered inside hoping there was a bar, there was none, but there was a large display refrigerator case with Tsingtao in it. I grabbed one and offered some money to a waitress, she looked a little bemused, but took a twenty and gave me back a five change, I motioned for an opener and that I wanted to take it outside, she popped it open and smiled, nice. When I came out, there was a chef with a net trying to catch a fish out of a large holding tank, which I had not noticed on the way in. I have no idea what type of fish they were, but they were big and fast, it took him a few minutes to snag one, I secretly hoped some of him would end up in our lunch. Outside, the afternoon temperature had to be in the high eighties, with not a cloud in the sky, nor was there any shade in the parking lot, save for a small, almost leafless tree, that cast the flimsiest of shadows. Nearby was a small table and chairs, which I pulled over, I sat back to enjoy my cold beer and reflect on my life. Sitting here with a cold beer in the shadow of The Great Wall of China, pretty good for a boy from Tottenham, if I may say so myself. I was brought back to reality by the soft tones of woman’s voice, asking, can we share your table? I opened my eyes to see a beautiful young blond woman smiling at me, she had an equally beautiful young girl with her, I said “of course”. I inquired if they were waiting for lunch, no she said, “they were waiting for their driver to take them back to Beijing. She went on to explain, that this was her daughter and they were on the final day of a six month journey through, Cambodia, Vietnam and China. I commented “that was an amazing education for a ten year old, it’s going to be pretty tough going back to an ordinary school”. I asked where home was. She said Montreal, but they were moving to France in the summer, must be nice. Just as I was about to mention, that I had vacationed in France for the past three years, Lucy showed up, as did the blonds driver, I never got her name, but what a gutsy lady to go travelling around the Orient with a ten year old girl in tow. We were shown to two round tables upstairs and served a series of platters featuring rice, and noodle dishes, some vegetarian others with either chicken, pork, beef or shrimp, but no duck or fish. It was all very tasty, exuding more flavour than any Chinese food I have ever had in the U.S. or U.K. In fact since my first visit to China in 2005, I have eaten very little Chinese cuisine in the west. There were several absentees from lunch, notably Lars and the three Irish girls, Lars arrived half way through and had to settle for leftovers with his beer. The girls were coming down the roads as we finished. I was sat next to two guys from New Zealand, who were on a six week tour of China. Beijing was their first stop, then they were heading to Xian, Sichuan, and Shanghai, ending in Hong Kong, nice little jaunt. They were staying at a hostel that I had seriously considered on my last trip, Sitting on the City Walls Courtyard House, which had been in the reckoning for this trip, until Continental came up with a great rate for The Jade. The older of the two, who I think was the uncle, was originally from England, when I enquired more, he was actually from Stanmore, Middlesex, just north of London, where I went to junior high school, while I lived in Cricklewood, London NW2. Although the school was long gone, he remembered it, St. Thomas’s on Marsh Lane. Opposite me, were two girls (I think they were a couple) from Brighton, England, they had started out in Shanghai and taken the bullet train, which they raved about. As soon as the bus pulled out of the parking lot, everyone, except moi, fell asleep. I had managed to get the same seat as the ride out, so I would get a closer look at the other side of the road, I was really hoping the driver would take a different route back, but in hindsight, I suppose there was only one road to Beijing, however, when we got to the airport expressway it was at a standstill, so he made a left and I was delighted. It’s not that the scenery was anything spectacular, far from it, in the countryside the land was brown and the trees stark awaiting the buds of spring. In the outer suburbs, it was shiny new retail outlets next to shanty towns, as we approached the inner suburbs it was all tall towers of apartments and offices, a sea of concrete and glass. At this point I dozed off; next thing I knew, Lucy was shaking me awake, we were at the bottom of the The Jade’s lane, my great adventure over, sigh. I floated into the lobby and grabbed a beer from the fridge, what a day, I had to top it off with a roast duck dinner, so, as I paid for my beer at the desk, I asked the clerk “where is a really good duck restaurant”, she said, “we have a good duck here”, I told her I had tried it and wanted to experience some where else. Indicating straight with her arm, she said, “down the lane, cross the road and go one hundred meters on the right, Chenyu Changs. I said I knew where it was and thanked her. Indeed, I had looked in the window on my first day, it had been virtually empty and the menu in the window was only in Chinese, so I had no idea what kind of food they served. Upon entering the restaurant, I was immediately impressed by a warm wood paneled room with white table clothes, high backed wooden chairs and the delicious aroma of roasted meats in the air, my sense of expectation soared, I felt that I had reached Nirvana. I was shown to a fourtop table in the middle of the room and handed a large menu, I obviously only had eyes for one thing and high lightened at the top of the page was Roast Peking Duck, whole or half, carved tableside, A waitress appeared almost instantaneously and inquired in broken English, drinkie? I ordered a gin and tonic, this would be interesting, I thought, but she came back with a very good cocktail and smiled broadly when I nodded my approval. She indicated towards the menu and I pointed at the half duck with all its condiments, plus a bottle of Great Wall red wine, which seemed to surprise her. I sat back to enjoy my gin n’ tonic and soak up the ambiance, noticing that most of the gentlemen were drinking beer while the some of the ladies appeared to be drinking plain hot water, rather strange I thought, not even a teabag in it. My ears then picked up on some English being spoken louder than the general conversation level; I honed in on a party of approx ten American’s, mostly women, having dinner at a round table on the platform in the corner of the room. I then understood why my waitresses was surprised at the red wine, they were all passing around 2 liter bottles of Coca Cola, which is the normal beverage with Chinese food in the USA. A few minutes later, a young man in a chef’s uniform arrived at my table with a full roast duck on a cart; it was magnificent looking, crispy golden brown and smelt even better. With a few quick slashes of his knife he dissected the duck in half, then deboned all the lean meat onto two beds of lettuce and placed the leg and wing in a bowl. While he did this, the waitress brought a large tureen of cabbage soup, a sectional platter of condiments including scallions, celery, pickles, peppers and onions with hoisin sauce, a bamboo steamer full of paper thin pancakes, a basket of three hollow sesame rolls with watercress and the piece de resistance, a blue platter of tiny fruits set amid a cloud of dry ice. The presentation was absolutely beautiful and impeccably presented, I felt like an emperor. I ladled out some of the soup, which was the least appetizing item on the table, a milky liquid with pieces of cabbage floating on top, but I was very pleasantly surprised, it had a mild spicy nuttiness that did not over power, but merely complemented the on coming feast with its near blandness. Just then, the waitress re-appeared with my bottle of wine, as I tasted it, she demonstrated how to make the perfect Peking duck roll. She took one pancake (they were not easy to separate), spread a little hoisin sauce in the center, a piece of duck, one piece each off celery & scallion, a tiny bit each of pepper & onion, folded the bottom over the mixture, then the sides and presented it to me, I bit the top off and was immediately in seventh heaven, the taste sensations were over whelming. I was grinning like a Cheshire cat, as I thanked her over and over. As I finished the second, bite, she then showed me how to used the sesame buns, she broke one open, dabbed a little hoisin sauce inside, followed by two small pieces of duck and finished off with some watercress. As I bit into the bun my mouth again exploded with a savory eruption, if I died now, my life was complete. As my waitress departed I was left to ponder my dilemma, it was my last night, I needed so much more of this. Surveying the feast before me whilst cleansing my palate with a glass of the Great Wall cabernet, I realised I should take a photograph of this for posterity. As I took the shot, the lady at the table across from me gave me quizzical look, so I took her photo as well, which really surprised her! It was my last night in Beijing, my flight home was at 2:45pm and I had a car booked at the hotel for noon. My original plan was to go out bar hopping in the Sanlitun area and sleep late but that all went out the window after dinner. I checked what time the restaurant open for lunch, 11am. Sold, I was having a duck lunch before I left and in order to enjoy it properly, I would have to be up early to work up a good appetite. The alarm went off at 7am, after a quick cup of green tea; I headed off for my last walk around Beijing. It was an absolutely beautiful morning, clear blue skies and sixty degrees F., turning south on Beihayan Jie, I had no particular destination in mind, just a desire to build a good appetite for my duck lunch. Turning right on Donghuamen Jie towards the Forbidden City, there are two parks either side of the walkway from Tiananmen, I had explored one of them on my first morning so the other deserved investigation. It was nowhere near as interesting and I was back at the Tiananmen in a few minutes, swimming against the tide, I battled my way out through the gate for a last look at the vast square. The first thing I noticed was a proliferation of Irish flags, where there had only been Chinese last week, maybe some dignitary was visiting? And the vast crowds were already forming lines at Mao’s tomb. I headed west along Dong Chang An Jie, then right up Nan Chi Zi Da Jie, which brought me up behind the Jade and a last walk through the Hutong, perfect. I checked out at ten thirty, leaving my bag at reception and confirming my taxi for noon. I was a little early for the restaurant but it would not hurt to try the door, sure enough it opened, there were already quiet a few people having an early lunch. With great anticipation, I ordered the ½ duck lunch with a Tsingtao beer. The beer arrived immediately and I sat back to await my feast. As per the night before, it was not long before a young man in a chef’s uniform arrived with a full roast duck on a cart beside my table; just like his predecessor, in moments half of it was dissected and on my table. The waitress arrived with the assorted condiments, pancakes and the all important sesame rolls. There was no soup or fruit plate with the lunch, which was fine by me; I had approx forty five minutes to enjoy my last meal in Beijing and I was going to savor every morsel. When I walked back to the hotel I found my taxi waiting for me, oh well, the long trek home starts now, but you have to go home to leave again. This was the most awesome trip of my life.