The shrimp, they’re alive aren’t they?
Last night we had fancy hot pot. This didn’t happen by design: having walked through lunch we were hungry and somehow this one restaurant appealed to us more than the others; maybe because there were customers already seated inside. Only when she looked at the menu did we realize it was expensive. As a tourist, cost is always relative. Our meal was ~200 Yuan (25 USD or a good take-out in Seattle). For that we got bottled water and the best hot pot I’ve had yet. Besides the vegetables and tofu, she ordered lamb and I ordered shrimp. It was all ok until they brought the shrimp to the table and I realized that the critters were still alive. Shrimp is said to have one muscle: its back. One is enough for them to deftly dodge the pincers on their way to a boiling death. I’m obviously too soft, to borrow a friend’s expression: I like my meat to grow from a tree.
About the hotel, we’re staying at the Zhejiang Hotel next to the 3rd ring road. We’re on the edge of the map from the Rough Guide. The relatives chose well. I appear to be the only caucasian around in this nice middle-class neighborhood. The shopping center (including a supermarket) is ~200 yards from the hotel. We stopped there this morning for fruits, water and other essentials such as disposable underwear. I also perused their wine selection. There were a few French Cote-du-Rhones, Sauvignon Blanc and Chinese wines. There are also restaurants a plenty within a few minutes walk. Funny thing though: before leaving last Friday I was joking with a Chinese coworker about breakfast. As a North-Americaner, I obviously wouldn’t eat congee; I would hunt for a double tall nonfat latte. Didn’t take long, that shopping center has a Starbucks in addition to a KFC and a DQ. Ah ha! Unlike others, I won’t crack that easily; she came back this evening from a short stroll with a caramel frappucino.
Yesterday we walked around the northeast. We stopped by the Beijing’s 7th book expo. We criss-crossed a few touristy and many non-touristy hutongs. We took a break with expensive frozen drinks at the bridge crossing near the bell and drum towers which we also visited. I have no trust in the guide book. For example, it says tourists should hire rickshaws for the ride in the hutongs near the two towers. What it doesn’t tell you is that the rickshaws will only go in a few of the hutongs: the ones remodeled for the tourists. The real hutongs you’ll have to go visit by foot.
Sadly, although they’re easy to see, they’re also easy to miss. Whereever there’s construction, there’s a wall between it and the sidewalk; you’d never know there were torn down houses right behind it. I’m reminded of the story about Montreal and the 1976 Olympics. Supposedly back then the mayor had blocked off some views from the major roads so tourists wouldn’t realize what the city was going through. The same is happening here in preparation for the 2008 games.
Today we walked the Forbidden City with the relatives. The grandfather is a walking encyclopedia of Chinese history. Plenty of Mandarin speaking tourists would stop to listen whenever he’d speak. I must have gotten one of the more tailored tours possible. About that monument, it’s gigantic. There are more inner-courts than you could visit in a day; most of them are incredible. I especially enjoyed the rock garden. More on all of this later though; pictures say a lot more.
