I arrived on the Beijing sleeper train the only laowai in sight, and was immediate fussed over by the two women in my carriage. They lifted me and my backpack up onto the top bunk with much huffing and puffing, and satisfied smiles when I was safely installed. I'm not sure any middle aged women in the UK would pick up a 17 kilo backpack and a 9 stone white girl (seriously- hands lifted me like the scene in Labyrinth when she falls down the hole.)
Beijing is stunning right now- I spent yesterday wondering around the lakes and Hutongs and today exploring the summer palace with my room mate. They were both the stuff of Chinese poetry- cobbled pathways, cherry blossoms, little arched bridges and intricate gardens. How does such elegance fit with such coarseness in the country? I am vexed, and jealous once again that in Asia, something can be totally contradictory and still understood. Darn Descartes and Derrida.
blossoms
The views to the hills over the lake- the summer palace is only an hour from the centre of Beijing and yet very serene
the view over the lakes at dusk yesterday.
I had a wonderful dinner last night with a guy I knew from Hong Kong who lived here now. Having formally been someone that used to show up when I was drunk (and he was battered) we actually took some time to talk over yummy hot pot. It was a great evening.
I have also realised I've become an avid reader again since I left HK- around 15 books so far I think. I've been given a copy of The Brother Karamazov, which is apparently essential transiberian reading (although apparently no one ever has time to read on the train) by Tom, who has been no where near the train journey (ah, the travel gods...)
But my favourite is my current book, The Snow Leopard: 'Indicating his twisted legs without a trace of self pity or bitterness, as if they belonged to all of us, he [the lama] casts his arms wide to the sky and the snow mountains, the high sun and the dancing sheep and cries, 'Of course I am happy here! It's wonderful! Especially when I have no choice!''
The perfect passage, in a perfect novel, in the perfect place. Perfect.
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