Dour, 電通-controlled, family-centric Belgian Neocolonialism, enthusiastically jaded observations, support for state-owned neoliberalist media and occasional rants from the twisted mind of a privileged middle-class expatriate atheist projecting some leftist ideals with my ridicule of Tucker Carlson (from The Blogs Formerly Known As Sponge Bear and Kaminoge 物語)
*see disclaimer below
Beijing 北京 is a large city, with a population approaching 22 million. When you think of China's capital city, images of Tiananmen Square, the Forbidden City and the Temple of Heaven probably come to mind. Getting away from the urban areas might conjure up visions of the Great Wall of China 长城, like the popular restored section at Badaling. But there is another, unexpected side to Beijing, that of dramatic mountains, clear rivers and small villages. This past weekend we drove for over three hours on Saturday morning to the Baili Landscape Gallery Scenic Spot 百里山水画廊, located in the northwest Yanqing District 延庆区 of the Beijing municipality. All that time on the road, in traffic that wasn't particularly heavy, and yet we never left the city:
Getting out of town was my wife's idea, for autumn has come and Shu-E loves seeing fall foliage, be it in Japan, Taiwan, Virginia or, yes, China. But as we reached the region containing the densest collection of autumn colors, it was the remains of one of the more original (i.e. unrestored) sections of the Great Wall that stood out for me, as we stopped for lunch in a small settlement beside the road:
"North African-style" hotpot:
Not much remained of the wall in this area:
The scenery as seen from the car. The weather was uncharacteristically (for Beijing) gorgeous:
A short walk uphill led to the Dishuihu Lianhua Cave 滴水壶莲花洞. Again, I'll defer to the signs for a description of what we were about to see:
The cave was short and cramped, and visiting it was not much of a pleasant experience, especially as the way in was also the route out, creating logjams in narrow openings. The lighting was meant to make the cavern more spectacular in appearance than it actually was:
Much better was the view of the landscape from outside the entrance to the cave:
The girls make their way back down to the lake:
We crossed the stone bridge pictured above to "Squirrel Island", an artificial isle located in the artificial lake. Amber was amused by the residents, who scurried around inside elevated caged walkways connecting several trees, occasionally stopping to have a look at the tourists with their phones:
Back on the road as the mountains began to close in:
Shu-E stopped the car at several points to get out and have a look at the kind of scenery you don't get to see in central Beijing:
In the late afternoon we reached the village of Qianjiadian 千家店, the largest settlement we came across that weekend, where my wife had reserved a room for us in one of the many mínsù 民宿 (similar to B&B's) located there. Ours was called Qianbaimo 千百陌
Having dinner at the end of a long day of driving:
Sunday was another clear day, but the morning was chilly, just 4°C/39°F. Shu-E had made a mistake with the starting time for breakfast, thinking it was 0700 instead of 0730, so we took a walk around the village while we waited for the dining room to open:
Breakfast was Chinese-style, which I normally don't much care for (see the below photo for evidence as to why), but hunger has a way of changing minds:
As we were putting our things in the car in preparation for continuing our trip, Amber made friends with one of the locals:
The proprietress of the minsu suggested we visit a "red village" called Huapen 花盆, the site of a fierce battle during the Second Sino-Japanese War 中国抗日战争, and around a 20-minute drive from Qianjiadian. I was expecting a rustic rural relic, the walls of which adorned with fading four-character slogans 成语 left over from the Cultural Revolution 文化大革命. Instead, all I could see were modern-day renditions of Communist propaganda, complete with inspiring quotes from Xi Jinping 习近平. It was a bit of a letdown for a Cold War buff such as myself:
All three of us were wondering why the Guandi Temple 关帝庙 was still standing in a village so supposedly "red":
Stopping to take in the view from a lookout as we made our way back to the main road:
With Shu-E behind the wheel, we would make frequent stops:
We eventually reached the opposite end of the Baili Landscape Gallery Scenic Area, which was actually the starting point for the majority of visitors from the urban and suburban parts of Beijing:
Making sure only my wife would be behind the wheel for the rest of this day:
"Love live Chairman Mao!" Finally!:
I was impressed with the efforts made by the tourism authorities to explain what it was we were seeing as we drove through the region:
Stopping at a large reservoir created by a small dam:
Facing one side of the dam...:
...and the other side:
As we began the long drive back into the city, we drove through some pleasantly lowkey scenery. I do hope for more opportunities to see the rural side of China, instead of just its teeming urban environments:
Eventually, though, we found ourselves back in the concrete jungle, crawling along in traffic as everyone and their dogs made their way home on the expressways on a Sunday afternoon:
It was at this point that we learned of the coffee icon on our dashboard, a signal to the driver that they might want to take a break. By this point we were almost home, however:
Driving through the northeast reaches of Beijing was the undoubted highlight of our time since the end of the Golden Week holiday, but it wasn't the only thing we've done. The following is a brief roundup of some other recent activities, like when our daughter takes Timi outside for some fresh air and sunshine (the former not always a certainty in this city):
Amber and I rode bikes one weekend afternoon to Taikoo Li Sanlitun 三里屯太古里, one of Beijing's more well-known shopping centers. Here, a crowd lines up outside a bakery:
Another business employs a somewhat bizarre method to attract custom:
Near a sign telling shoppers they have rights if photographed, a gauntlet of middle-aged men with expensive-looking cameras waited for attractive young women to walk by:
Doing some, er, "research" on YouTube, I found evidence of similar activities at the Taikoo Li complex in Chengdu 成都:
These installations were placed in a boutique selling overpriced sunglasses:
Fun with mirrors:
This Hatsune Miku 初音ミク-decorated tuk-tuk is seemingly always parked in our residential compound:
Chaoyang Park 朝阳公园, great for a stroll on those days when I'm free thanks to illness or federal holidays (i.e. on days when most Chinese have school or work):
Bag o' Beer. Takeaway from a neighborhood brew pub:
A Sunday afternoon lunch at a Mongolian restaurant called Mengjya 蒙吉雅:
Meal over, we took advantage of the clothes rack by the cashier to do some dressing up. When in Rome, do as the Han Chinese tourists:
Hu are you? Hu? Hu? Hu? Hu? I really want to know:
The writing was on the walls of a building where I had lunch with some coworkers. From left to right: "Always follow Chairman Mao!"; "Long live Chairman Mao Zedong!"; "Long live the Communist Party of China!"; and "Always follow the Communist Party". For a complex housing some nice restaurants and trendy cafes, one can't help but wonder is these are meant to be ironic:
Locals say fall is the best time to be in Beijing. I would agree, except that the AQI for much of this workweek has been over 170. You know what they say: You can take the PM2.5 out of Beijing, but you can't take Beijing out of the PM2.5.
