Finding the Forbidden City.

The Beijing Railway station provides a visual for anyone doubting China’s boggling population. It seemed that all of China was crammed into the exit canals that spilled onto the square outside, into the bright and sweltering sun. It’s a decently good wake up call after a fitful night of sleep on a sleeper train. While there was no loogie alarm clock this go around, there were some chatty Kathy’s that got yaking around 5:30 and continued their conversation until our train made it’s jerkiest and last stop in Beijing. Seriously, the train felt like it was driven by a 4-year-old that was learning the struggling of having terrible hand and eye coordination. Sleep or no sleep, only having only 4 days in this city meant it was time to make the most of it. Yes, during my life of teaching for a handful of hours and eating crazy good noodles and seeing the sites around my own historic city, I also get vacation time to visit places I've only dreamed about, hence the trip to Beijing. I've got it rough, I know. 

Thinking about snatching one of these lions in my suitcase to stash on my own doorstep. 

A quick moment to repack bags at our hostel after taking the metro from the train station and a 10 minute walk led to Tiananmen Square. It’s enormous, by the way, and incredible to see in person. Everyone has seen pictures of the place, so it’s neat to get some first hand context about the events that happened here.  The impressive grounds are no place to lounge (though some did picnic under the streetlight/surveillence poles- a meager slice of shade in the heat) so once our banana ice pops had melted, it was time to move onto the Palace Museum. They are sold by woman shouting Yi Kuia, Yi Kuia on the street and are the best way to beat the heat (and cost about $0.15).  Unbeknownst to us, "The Palace Museum" is  the Chinese colloquial of The Forbidden City which initially caused some confusion. A split between pro-audio guide and anti-audio guide broke the group into sections, and the more historically inclined took the longer route through the maze of golden tiled rooftops. A stunning site to see, these glittering rooftops give a glimpse into the lavish life of the Chinese royalty; I cannot believe people in the past called these intricately detailed, richly decorated, and insanely massive palaces home. H. got an audio guide which meant sharing tidbits of information that only enriched the experience; at one point, I walked on a marble road between two palaces that was only reserved for the emperor....Emperor Emily has a ring to it, don't you think? 

The real win of this picture is not having single tourist in the shot. 

Despite the Beijing heat, it's well worth an afternoon to delve into the small side streets that bridge the main drag of the Palace Museum. The courtyards are smaller, with an old herringbone type stonework where the cracks are inhabited with moss under massive and shady trees, adorned with plaques that literally read "old tree". Unfortunately, there were more sites to see in Beijing so we bid our adieus. A dizzying metro ride later, and it was time to check off a site I had wanted to see since the 2008 Olympics. The Bird's Nest would have to wait until tomorrow, but this afternoon was reserved for the Temple Of Heaven. 

Check out Instagram for the single jumping picture that turned out amidst the
dozens of attempts. 

Though nearly every structure in China has been burned down once or thrice, it's still a marvel to see in person, and older than anything in the United States can boast about. The park itself is a place I wish I could have spent more time in. Huge rows of neatly planted trees shade diagonal pathways where you can hear a smattering of unique comings and goings. Old men are huffing and puffing on the workout park to one corner, while the brassy tune of an accordion plays over the pitched opera sung by a group of women congregated to another side. Small circles of people gather to bounce a feathered shuttlecock around while tourists mill around between pockets of every day life of Beijingers. The sites to see of course were stunning, and merited an embarrassing number of photos trying to get the perfect shot. 

A now-Nanjing-nostalgic dinner of tomato and eggs (you gotta try it) was dinner for the night before give the alleyways behind the hostel some decent exploring time. Rows of restaurants with deep mahogany ducks roasting in the windows while the side streets allowed a glimpse of real life; a man dragging a dog more interested in snuffling in the gutters, a woman giving a reluctant child a bath in a plastic tub, and a group of women playing mahjong at a side table outside of a teeny restaurant roasted kabobs outside, all alight by the neon signs the lit up the dark alleys. As a side note; buy anything that is reminiscent of a circular pastry I adore no matter what city you are in. Beijing's street food version is a flaky crust imbedded with black sesame seeds and studded with a sweet honey type syrup that has soaked into the pastry. De-licious, and the perfect sweet treat before going to bed. The fruit salad ordered by another teacher at the restaurant was less successful. Fruit salad apparently means some sort of pear tossed into straight up mayonnaise. Also, the grapes in the picture apparently can be replaced with tomatoes.