A Canadian in Beijing: Being a Tourist at the Summer Palace

by Ember Swift on

I’ve been here for six weeks now and I’ve barely been a tourist. I’ve never been much of a tourist, really, seeing as most of my travelling has been related to my music (i.e. work), but I did imagine that I would do more “tourist-y” things while here in Beijing than I have. That dawned on me this week when I realized that I am half-way through my trip and I have yet to take the bus just ten minutes down the road to check out a major tourist attraction and historic landmark:

The Summer Palace (Yi He Yuan Gong Yuan)

Today, my friend David and I hopped the #726 bus from outside of the university and we headed for the site with cameras in hand. I slathered on the sunscreen (despite the hazy skies) and we geared up to be tourists for once, agreeing to rent the self-guided tour headsets and buy the tourist guides. I even declared that this would be the first occasion that I would buy postcards from the relentless vendors. And so I did. (Successfully bargaining down from 20 kuai to 5 kuai for a package of 10, I might add!)

When we got to the site, it began to rain. It didn’t last long, however, and the freshness in the air combined with the expanse of green (and therefore, oxygen) that surrounds this gorgeous landmark made the air feel light in my lungs. I breathed deeply. Even with the slight chill in the air, I was certain that a bit of cool rain was going to be good for my health.

We bought our tickets, maps and rented our headsets and then started the tour by following our noses, almost ignoring the maps altogether. We went through the east gates and turned right first, finding ourselves walking through beautiful gardens and mounting the “Longevity Hill.” This took us up to a beautiful pagoda that overlooked the grounds. Here, we could see the Kunming Lake and the tips of several other ornate pagodas and towers.

The headsets were configured to sense where you were and then provide a brief history lesson about your surroundings while you’re there. The contraption dangled around our necks like backstage passes and the headset fit on one ear. I felt like a security staff person or something and we laughed at the fact that our sensors were spaced differently so that suddenly mine would start talking when Dave’s hadn’t registered yet. It made for some awkward conversation stoppers. I’d have to interrupt what he was saying with: “oops, uh, someone’s talkin’ in my ear again! Sorry!” and then try to concentrate on what was being said.

We found that most of the content of this self-guided tour was replicated on the signs which were written in both English and Chinese. Still, I didn’t mind the storytelling. For just $40 kuai (less than $6 Canadian), I got the luxury of not having to push my way to the front of the crowd to read every sign.

One of the most magnificent structures was the “Tower of the Fragrance of the Buddha” which stretches 41 metres high and is a three-storied octagonal building with four tiers of eaves. The headsets told us that successfully ascending the one-hundred steps leading up to the tower would represent a long life of at least one-hundred years. Since we had come upon this tower from the opposite side, I wondered if descending these steps would have the opposite effect. Let’s hope not!

We walked down them and eventually found ourselves next to the water’s edge and the “Long Corridor.” This is a raised, covered walkway that enabled the Emperor and then the Empress Dowager to walk along the lake without risking the elements. It stretches 728 metres long with 14,000 pictures painted on its ceiling. They are magnificent pictures full of exquisite detail and intricate designs. It is known as the longest painted gallery in the world.

Of course we followed this corridor to its end where we found the stone “boat” pavilion, a structure that was used for leisure and entertainment purposes that looks like a boat but is made entirely of marble and stone — definitely not gearing to float away anytime soon! Behind this ironic relic, we decided to cross over the water by the stone bridge to find out what was on the other side.

What stretched before us then were some of the most beautiful trees I have seen in a long time, the oldest willow and mulberry trees in the Beijing area. The willows were first planted during Qian Long’s reign (1735-1796) and nineteen of these trees still remain. I was touched to see evidence of preservation efforts; a crew was working on one tree while we passed and some of the other trees were propped up with permanent braces as though their age had crippled them and they need canes to stand upright. It struck me as a merciful sight.

On either side of this stone walkway were waterways that were breathtaking. Small inlets with lotus flowers on the right-side or the wide expanse of the Kunming Lake stretching back towards the palace buildings on the left. Small bridges with intricate stone carvings and wide steps. Everything was so beautiful that it was hard not to photograph something new with every step.

It was about here that I started to get really tired. We had walked endlessly and the beauty was remarkable, but I was losing my ability to concentrate and take any more in. We hopped in a boat that took (weary) people across the lake rather than having to walk around and then we checked out just a few more buildings that we’d missed in the beginning before returning our headsets and heading home.

One of the last buildings we entered was one that housed an old car that was bought for the Empress Dowager and is purported to be an early Benz. It was surrounded by four rickshaws and on display behind iron bars. On the other side of this room were several personal items of the Empress Dowager’s including her famous portrait and a few pianos and pieces of furniture.

Two young girls on either side of these displays stood in period costumes including (what appeared to be) extremely uncomfortable high-heeled shoes. They had wide headdresses and looked gorgeous in their outfits, but their eyes were tired and bored and I wanted to take them by the hand and lead them out of there. What a job to have to stand there and be beautiful all day, smiling for photographs and pacing slowly behind iron bars! Of course, I didn’t take their pictures. I smiled at them with a look of sympathy and I received a flash of appreciation from one of the girls, as though she registered my meaning. I wish I’d had something to offer them, but all I could give them was my shy retreat and the silent respect of a lowered camera lens.

When we hopped in a cab for “home,” I was ready for a long nap – being a tourist is exhausting! I highly recommend seeing this landmark, though, because it felt like a moment of countryside in the middle of a bustling city. It’s wonderful that Beijing has preserved such a stunning site. The Summer Palace should definitely be on your list of places to see if you’re passing through Beijing.


(This is us posing before the famous statue of the Bronz Ox, said to be the controller of floods. It was cast during Qian Long’s reign, 1735-1796.)

A Canadian in Beijing: Veggie Restaurant Redemption

by Ember Swift on

I thought it appropriate that I redeem the vegetarian restaurant that was the site of my “bad day” a few weeks ago.

First off, my friend Traci (an American and thirteen-year resident of Beijing) read my blog and had the following to say to me: “everyone has bad China days, Ember, so rest-assured you’re not alone.” That was good to hear. She said that even she has days when she struggles with the cultural differences and when she feels excluded or misunderstood because she’s a foreigner.

Last night, my friend Wei asked me if I was interested in going out for vegetarian food with him and since I feel like my cold is lifting and I’m feeling better, I accepted. He was the one who had originally told me about the “Lotus in Moonlight Vegetarian Restaurant” and I hadn’t realized that he meant we should go to that same one in particular. Of course that makes sense, though, since it was his recommendation in the first place. He picked me up in a taxi and I didn’t notice our destination until I got out of the taxi and saw the same line of bicycles that had been my parking spot just a couple weeks ago.
I didn’t indicate to him that I had been here before, but I did think to myself that it was a good opportunity to redeem the experience and I coached my open mind to remain that way. I’m so glad it complied.

The food was excellent and the service was impeccable. I saw no sign of the previous waitress and I would definitely return to eat there again, even though it was rather pricey.

Wei is Chinese and his English is pretty terrible. His pronunciation is painful and I find him more comprehensible in Chinese than I do in English. When he tried to use his English, I often have to hear what he’s trying to say in Mandarin before I can understand him (or correct him) in English. He and I met at a live music venue the second week I had arrived and he was really helpful in explaining some words to me and writing them down. We became friends and have since spent a bit of time together. When we hang out, it forces me to speak only in Chinese, which is something that is really important for my language development.

He taught me this very valuable expression “dabao” which means “I want it to go.” It’s apparently more colloquial than “na zou” (literally: take to go) and is a request for your food to be packaged up and sent home with you. I used it with the waitress who gave me a huge smile before nodding and returning with the container and a small bag with handles.

I have to admit that I can only spend about two hours in Wei’s company before I feel like my brain is going to stage a mutiny, carve an exit from my skull and then roll off my head and out the door. It’s not his company, of course, but the forced constancy of speaking Chinese that draws that feeling. The mental exhaustion feels physical and it’s a kind of tired that I’ve only experienced when I’ve been in immersion settings in my second or third language. Thankfully, it doesn’t happen to me anymore in French and I will eagerly await the day when it stops happening in Mandarin!

He treated me dinner (which was very sweet) and then I had to take my leave because I could no longer function in a conversation. He was understanding and waved me into a taxi. We’ll likely hang out again in the next couple of weeks. He remarked on my improvement with the language, so he’s a good gauge of my development. We’ll see if he says the same thing to me next time!

Chinese Disneyland Clone Scares the Kids

by Justin Glow on

No, it’s not Disneyland China, it’s Shijingshan Amusement Park located in Beijing. This Disney knock-off could be very frightening for a child who is used to seeing the American version of Walt’s lovable characters — Donald’s got a spare tire, and Minnie doesn’t look quite right herself. I don’t even know what to say about the Snow White-themed ticket booth. Even the “Magic Kingdom” looks like it belongs in Legoland, rather than a Chinese Disneyland clone-park.

“None of this is authorized by Disney,” explains China’s English-language business newspaper, The Standard. “but that has not stopped the state-owned park from creating its own counterfeit version of the Magic Kingdom in a brazen example of the sort of open and widespread copyright piracy that has Washington fuming.”

Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, they say.

[via boingboing]

A Canadian in Beijing: Escape to Shanghai

by Ember Swift on

The overnight train to Shanghai was like an adult summer camp on wheels. Beds three bunks high and six to a cubicle with only about three feet between each stack and it was clear that we were going to make friends with whomever was nearby. And we did!

But first, I was shocked at the crowds at Beijing Zhan, the principal railway station in the city. When we emerged from the underground of the subway to catch our train, Sarah told me that the crowds weren’t that bad, actually, but I still snapped pictures anyway. I couldn’t believe the density of the front courtyard with people sitting or waiting or milling about with luggage and children in tow. The excited energy was bouncing off the mid-evening lights as we dodged rolling luggage and bicycles, families and travellers in circled, seated mounds that would suddenly nearly trip us in the middle of the courtyard.

We twisted and turned and tried to keep sight of each other as we scurried into the station. We were almost late for our train, actually, and arrived just five minutes before our departure time. I wasn’t worried, though. Somehow I knew that Shanghai was on my horizon for this weekend and I knew that the train wouldn’t leave without us on it.

I was right.

We stepped into railway car number six just in time and turned down a narrow corridor that was about four feet wide. I still hadn’t registered that this wasn’t just a transit passageway to the car we were riding on, but was actually the train car itself and where we would be stationed for the next thirteen hours. We walked about ten feet and then Sarah stopped me and motioned that we had arrived at our home for the night. I turned and saw our travelling home. These were called “hard sleepers,” which is a mid-grade ticket. We were packed in but still comfortable and it looked quite cozy.

Despite the narrowness of the corridor, especially when people are sitting there, the train employees still managed to push the skinniest carts I’ve ever seen down these passageways calling out what they were offering from noodles to soup to hot water to quick snacks and bottled beverages. I had brought a bag stuffed with vegan snacks (I’m learning quickly!) and so we didn’t need to order any food. We were set and ready.

Jenni, Sarah and I were positioned in three bunks one on top of the other about half-way up the car. The top and middle bunks aren’t as expensive as the lower bunks as it is only on the lower bunks that one has enough headroom to sit up. For that reason, most people sit on the lower bench all at once, if they know each other. Otherwise, there are small chairs and tiny tables that fold out in the corridor for when travellers aren’t sleeping. In our case, we just split the cost three ways so it was an equitable travel experience. We all sat together on the lower bunk until it was time to sleep.

We all took dibs on who was sleeping where and I landed in the middle bunk. The highest bunk is probably the most private, but the middle bunk isn’t too bad either. Each one came with a pillow and a warm duvet and mine actually had a wonderful view out the window.

(Sarah snapped this of me this morning as I was watching the Chinese countryside racing past me. It was in these exact moments that I was thinking how much I want to explore more of this country!)


At 10:30pm, the lights went out and we all took to our bunk positions. There were no individual lights for the cubicles, so there was nothing to do but to sleep. Tired from a week of hectic socializing, studying and overall Beijing exploration, I had no trouble falling asleep within minutes. I have always been able to sleep in moving vehicles. It must be all the touring we’ve done.

I woke only to go to the bathroom sometime in the middle of the night. I climbed down, put on my shoes (you can’t use the squatter without them!) and then found that all the restrooms were locked. I was told in rushed Chinese that they were about to stop and that no one could use the bathrooms. It took awhile before I understood that the bathrooms are locked when people get off the train or board the train. Perhaps for security reasons? I’m not sure. Ten minutes later, we were back on our way, they re-opened the facilities, I used the squatter, and then I went back to sleep. I slept soundly until 6:30am when talking from nearby cubicles and the bounce of the sunshine nudged me to consciousness in my suspended cocoon.

A few hours later we pulled into Shanghai and were greeted with “Welcome to Shanghai” signs all throughout the arrivals corridor. I was grinning and rested and emerged into the sunlight with my friends, a full heart…

And a full bladder.

I hadn’t been able to use the facilities while in the train because I waited too long and then discovered again that they had locked the doors just before arriving in Shanghai. While Sarah and Jenni stood in line to book another train ticket for the end of their journey next week, I sought out a public restroom facility and was amazed to find that it cost money to use! An attendant called me back when I entered and gestured that I was to throw my money into a large barrel-like opening. It cost 2 kuai. I reached into my pocket, found the money and obeyed. After all, I had to go! When I had thrown in my money, she handed me a tissue to use.

I considered it a tariff for the tree’s sacrifice.

I re-emerged onto the sidewalk to be reunited with my friends, relieved and believing that anything is possible –

Shanghai had welcomed me.

GADLING’S TAKE FIVE: Week of April 22

by Adrienne Wilson on

Time to catch up on some of what you may have missed over the week… Without delay let’s hop right to it!

5. Write for Wend:
Here is your chance to get your travel writing out there and into a new glossy. Don’t save all those adventure tales for the grandkids – write for Wend and share them with us all.

4. 24 Hours of Flickr:
This May 5th Flickr is calling all around the world to photograph their daily routine and submit one single great photo from the day for an event/project called 24 Hours of Flickr. While something like such has been done before, it is still awesome to participate in if you haven’t before and love the Flickr community.

3. Environmentalist Greats Tour:
Heal the world and make it a better place – Yes? Then why not head out on one of these mean-green-eco-machine type tours… Okay, they aren’t mean, but you get the picture.

2. Underwater Post Offices and Mailboxes Around the World:
I have a hard enough time finding a post office on land and I’m not one of the greatest swimmers, so going underwater to mail off a package isn’t quite my thing. For those who do love exploring the ocean fully clad in scuba gear and discovering new exotic creatures (like underwater mailboxes) please send me a little something when you’re down there. I’d appreciate it.

1. A Canadian In Beijing: Two-Wheeled Matrimony:
Ember doesn’t stop does she? In fact she recently found a bike to keep her going and going in the land where bicycles almost totally rule the road. See what’s happening in Beijing now that she has her first set of wheels.