A crazy stopover, or 24 hours in Beijing
China is full of mysteries, and some of them can be unravelled by numerology. My crazy one-day stopover in Beijing can be described by three numbers: "23", "48" and "-14".
China Airlines has recently been offering interesting connections to Asia via Beijing. I too was tempted by a trip to northern Thailand via the capital of the Middle Kingdom. On the way out, the journey involved a 4-hour stop in Beijing and an onward flight to Chiang Mai. On the way back, the plane landed at 4.50 in the morning and took off at 3.50 the following day, which gave exactly 23 hours for Beijing. And so I solved the first of the mysterious numbers.
My first impression after landing was the overwhelming, all-penetrating frost. The previous day in Thailand it had been +34 degrees; after a 4-hour-30-minute flight we found ourselves in surroundings chilled to -14. If it was minus 14, the temperature difference was 48 degrees. And all is clear: the numerological riddles are solved. But read on; this is only the beginning of the story.
Visa-free transit and the drive to Mutianyu
For the Boeing 737 jet, although it is not one of the smallest, there was no space at an air bridge; it was parked far from the terminal: steps, a dash across the apron to a bus, then a hop into the building and phew... a little warmer. For some time now it has been possible to leave the airport in Beijing (and other Chinese cities) without a visa. All you have to do is wait your turn in the queue, fill in a form, show a ticket for your onward journey (it has to be an international connection) and you are free to explore Beijing.
An hour and a half after touchdown we buy hot coffee and a takeaway breakfast at Starbuck's in the arrivals hall, and 15 minutes later we are pulling out of the airport car park. It is 7.00 on a Sunday morning. Our driver is a friendly guy who wants to be called "Kevin". Kevin is Chinese, he was waiting for us right by Starbuck's, and he works for "celinatourservice", with whom I had agreed the terms by email: for 8 hours of transport and Kevin's help (he speaks good English) we are to hand over 480 yuan. Forgetting the frost outside, we fall into a deep sleep in a warm Chinese-made van whose name is impossible to pronounce correctly. We are woken by a jolt: in record time, a few minutes after 8.00, we reach Mutianyu. It is one of three places near Beijing set up for tourists who want to see the famous wonder of the world, the Great Wall. Most tourists staying in Beijing take day trips to Badaling, 70 km north-west of the city. That section is considered the most commercialised and geared to the crowds who arrive by coach. The section at Simatai is the furthest from the city (110 km north-east) but also the most authentic and the least crowded. Mutianyu is the easiest to reach from the airport (90 km to the north) and sits somewhere between the commercialism and the authenticity of the other two. Judging by the infrastructure here, you can only imagine with horror what the organisation at Badaling must look like.
The Great Wall at Mutianyu - tickets and the gondola
The first thing that greets us is a huge, monumental ticket hall. Kevin says there are two companies offering two packages, both at the same price. Still half asleep, we don't go into details and simply choose the recommended option, which includes a shuttle bus to the "tourist relocation centre" closer to the wall, a gondola ride right up to the wall and the same way back. Alternatively, after getting off the shuttle bus, you can take a chairlift up to the wall at a slightly different spot and come back down on special single-seat toboggans which, equipped only with a brake, slide down hairpin bends made of steel chutes. Given the weather, we are sure we have made the right choice, but at the same time we notice that you can only buy your means of transport once you get off at the upper bus station, and you can even try covering part of the distance on foot. Note: cash only; there are two cash machines in the hall, one of which accepted our Polish card.
On this frosty Sunday morning we stand on the Great Wall of China. It is eight o'clock and we are almost alone. The gondolas have only just started running and some are even going up empty. It is freezing but sunny and windless, and the air is not saturated with moisture. The heat packs we bought earlier start working and neutralise the cold creeping into our feet and hands. The wall has been restored over a length of several kilometres and you can sense a lack of authenticity, a bit like Warsaw's rebuilt Old Town, but that doesn't diminish its appeal or uniqueness. It winds over the surrounding hills, interrupted every so often by a watchtower. In places it is very steep; if it were covered in snow or ice, you could have quite a slide.
You need to allow at least 2 hours for a walk on the Wall and all the procedures involved. On the way down we stop at one of the eateries in the arcade and fill up on hearty Chinese dumplings. We leave the Wall exactly 3 hours after arriving.
Tiananmen Square and security checks
It is 11.00, and we are heading for Beijing. Another nap in the car, a drive of just under 2 hours, and we arrive at the monstrous, socialist-realist Tiananmen Square. Kevin parks in an underground car park in one of the side streets and leads us to the main ticket offices for the Forbidden City. Every dozen metres or so there is a uniformed officer, and between them many plain-clothes officers dressed in black from head to toe. A quick stop at the toilet and a fresh set of chemical heat packs, which last up to 5 hours.
After a few hundred metres we come to the first checkpoint. It turns out that Kevin has forgotten his ID card, without which he has no chance of going any further with us. We settle up, and he turns back, released from any further duties, while we know we can manage on our own. There will be several checks: first passports, then X-rays of bags and rucksacks. Since the bloodily suppressed student protests of 1989, the square has been under special surveillance. We furtively watch a policeman (or militiaman?) demand to see a young Chinese man's camera and look through the photos he has taken. A shiver runs down our spines when we see pairs of officers equipped with kits for restraining anyone attempting self-immolation: a shield, a fire extinguisher and huge tongs with which such a person can be held or moved.
Visiting the Forbidden City
Most tourists heading for the Forbidden City are organised Chinese groups who have made sure to buy their tickets in advance. We find the ticket offices, and we manage to pay by card, as one window accepts them. Further on, at the actual entrance, you can hire an audio guide in Polish. Together with hundreds of other visitors we enter the grounds once reserved only for the emperors and their closest circle. The 32 hectares, where construction began in 1421, are visited from south to north, passing through one courtyard after another, looking at palaces and halls and peeking inside some of them. The architecture is very consistent, postcard-perfect Chinese, with stone-paved squares, a few free-standing sculptures and charming little bridges. The buildings differ in proportions but are very similar to one another, which after a while becomes tiresome. Leaving by the north exit, you pass the imperial gardens, with trees whose bark has been polished smooth by millions of visitors' hands, even though each one has a "do not touch" sign.
We leave the Forbidden City: the minimum plan is done! We have seen Beijing's two greatest attractions.
Hutongs, a tuk-tuk and Peking duck
A few vendors stand by the barriers at the exit. Blood-red strawberries coated in sugar glaze and skewered on sticks like kebabs look tempting... a moment later it turns out they are frozen solid. Not what we expected: we lick off the glaze, but the rest freezes our teeth. Right next to the strawberry seller stands an unassuming woman: "Tuk-tuk? Hutong? Tuk-tuk?" Hmm... Hutongs are Beijing's traditional, densely packed neighbourhoods. Surely they are worth seeing, we think. We strike a deal and wait to see what happens next; there is no tuk-tuk in sight. The woman leads us briskly on and on, we wind our way, turning into a wider street, then a narrower one. Finally, to our surprise, there it is: a pedal tuk-tuk, with a chain, pedals and a small bench at the back. Three people? After just a few metres it turns out that neither the woman, nor the chain, nor we, squeezed in behind her, can manage like this. I walk, the others ride, and the woman has an ambitious plan to show us everything she had planned. Hutong means alley in Mandarin. A car would barely fit, and two tuk-tuks pass each other with millimetres to spare. The alley runs between long walls that enclose blocks of very dense housing. Stretches of wall are 200 - 300 metres long, and at their corners you can read (in English) what special things lie inside and what history is associated with that section. I peek inside through one of the entrances: you can see the crush and the mess, some parcels, a bicycle, a small door and a grimy little window, and a winding path leading further in.
When we finally finish our pitiful tuk-tuk ride, we stumble, somewhat by chance, on a revitalised part of the hutongs. There are alleys here too, but no walls; instead there are shops and little restaurants. In one place we watch craftsmen making silver jewellery, in another we fill up on a fast-food version of duck: pieces of duck meat with vegetables wrapped in thin pancakes, reminiscent of the kebabs we know. You eat it quickly and at the same time... tick off another Beijing attraction; it is, after all, "Peking duck"...
The Temple of Heaven and the airport train
It is starting to get dark, and the long day is taking its toll. We throw ourselves at the last attraction, the Temple of Heaven. Although the Beijing metro is a tangle of many intersecting lines, buying a ticket and finding your way are relatively easy. The machines at the stations can be switched to the language of Shakespeare, and once you have selected your starting and destination stations, the fare is displayed, with the option of choosing the number of people travelling together.
We reach the park surrounding the temple at dusk; the park is still open, but unfortunately the temple is not. We can see it behind a big wall: from a distance its silhouette is visible, but the closer we get, the more it is hidden. Some compensation for the temple we couldn't visit is watching people playing Chinese board games; we admire them, because the shelter they are huddled under offers no protection from the cold at all.
Well, it is time to say goodbye to the capital of the Middle Kingdom. We take the metro towards the airport: a few stops, and then we change to a special train that goes straight to the airport. Its route intersects with the metro network at two points, and the fare is fixed at 25 yuan.
It is worth taking advantage of China Airlines' promotional fares when flying further afield and seeing Beijing on the way. Entry without a visa, and the vast, mystery-filled capital of China is yours to explore. I think it offers fascinating experiences at any time of year and lets you discover your own secrets of Chinese numerology...
