Showing posts with label wangfujing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wangfujing. Show all posts

25 August 2018

How I Ruined My Summer Vacation - 2018 (part 4)

Every time I go to Beijing to teach a summer course at the University of International Business and Economics, my meals are always an adventure. It's not that I don't like Chinese food; I definitely do. And it's not that my choices are limited. In a city of ten million people there must be about 1 million restaurants and cafes and food kiosks. I could also dine in the campus cafeteria like my students, if I wanted to.

Last summer I had problems. I had to keep running to a bathroom, to put it as delicately as possible. That really put a crimp on my relations and on my sightseeing. I diagnosed the problem as either 1) I kept re-infecting myself every time I ate out, or 2) the bug was staying in me no matter what I ate. It was an unpleasant experience, although it did help me lose weight. I finally got some local medicine that treated the symptoms and got me through the long flight home. Once home, I went to my doctor who prescribed a regimen of antibiotics which cleared it right up.

Unagi-don
This summer, I thought I'd be prepared. I went to my doctor pre-emptively and he offered to prescribe antibiotics which I could take if the same problem returned. As it turned out, I did not need it. Everything was fine. In fact, I was able to up my eating game due to the emergence of several new restaurants near my hotel. So I was able to avoid the hole-in-the-wall cafes on the east side of the campus or those to the north of the west gate of the campus which I had gone to often the previous summer at the behest of students and well-meaning friends.

First was a Cantonese restaurant. Having been to Hong Kong, I had the understanding that Cantonese food was mild (not spicy) but the fare here was not bland at all and quite delicious. I tried many dishes on the menu during my four meals there, including dim sum.

They added some bulls on Wangfujing street.
Another major dining destination for me was just a few steps from my hotel door: a Japanese restaurant which specialized in sushi (of course!). Actually, in my six visits, I noticed they seemed to specialize in eel ("unagi" in Japanese), which is cooked rather than served raw. I sampled several dishes as well as a variety of sushi offerings, including the eel "don" (filet of eel, grilled, over a bed of rice). 

At The Sizzler!
I still made  use of the neighborhood 7-Eleven store, purchasing breakfast bread, bananas, bottled yogurt, sodas, and water bottles (can't drink the tap water), and candy - because I was on vacation. My walking balanced out my eating, I learned during my first visit. For nostalgia's sake, I popped into the YongHeGong restaurant on the corner (specializing in pork cutlets on rice) and promptly found myself sporting symptoms of the previous summer's visit. I downed a shot of meds I'd brought from home and no more problem.


A custom of mine, whenever I feel homesick or my stomach craves some good ol' homecooking, is to venture down to the big tourist shopping street known as Wangfujing. There, I can find two huge bookstores to browse away the hours as well as a large food court in an upscale  shopping mall. In that food court is one of America's premier steakhouses: The Sizzler! A proper steak and potato, salad bar, and cheesecake will set everything right again.

Speaking of homecooking, after I noticed a Pizza Hut a few blocks from the campus, I offered my friend the opportunity to experience a real American-style pizza. We went there, perused the menu, and I immediately recognized that this Pizza Hut was not going to serve the usual pizzas like back home. One featured pizza had eel on it, another had Peking duck. We went to the do-it-yourself page and cobbled together something close to American-style: beef and peppers. It sufficed.

And as usual, my faculty colleague treated me to Peking duck at their original location in Qianmen. The show is when the duckmaster carefully slices up the duck and makes a lotus flower with the slices. Then you eat it by wrapping the duck slices in a thin pancake with some spring onions and duck sauce.

Also as usual, my visit ended at the Hilton Hotel by the airport, where all rationality is thrown out the window in order to dine at the expensive restaurant there, where my guest ordered . . . the burger. Now hold on! Being an upscale eatery, the burger was top grade and had exotic ingredients on it, like fois gras (goose liver pate). I ordered a Tandoori dish, mostly because we had been talking about Indian food the past week.

This summer, I was well-served food-wise. I also was blessed with lovely company providing smart conversation and delightful witticisms, as well as a beautiful view across the table. That was the best part: taking pictures of our food - or just as often forgetting to photograph the gustatorial presentation prior to destroying it. After all, photography is half the fun of dining out, isn't it?


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(C) Copyright 2010-2018 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.

20 August 2016

My Ruined Summer Vacation, Part 3

As a writer, I often set up my hero as a stranger in a strange land. Perhaps that's because I know so well what that feels like. Whenever I travel, I usually skip the conventional tours and get right out there walking the streets. I like to pretend I live wherever I am visiting. I wonder how it would be, how I would get along there.

So when I had the opportunity to teach a class at a university in Beijing last July, the little Chinese-style hotel across from the campus became my home sweet home. Having seen all the major sites on previous visits I spent much time in my room writing. However, when I did go out, I usually got myself into some kind of trouble. By my second week, I was ready to go on a longer venture away from my neighborhood.

The entrance to the neighborhood. The traffic barriers are new.
The rain was light when I left the hotel and walked the mile to the nearest subway station so I used an umbrella. Humid and hot, but not as bad as other days. I got some relief inside the station where cool air blew and on the subway train itself. Being a big boy now, I could follow the map and get myself to the right stop. We come to underestimate the need for basic skills when we are thrown into the stranger-in-a-strange-place scenario. I do not read Chinese but I did learn some of the characters while living in Japan in the 90s, so I could guess at the instructions on the ticket machine. (You always want to press the green buttons. Green is good.)

The street from the subway station to the park.
I rode the subway to the Tuanjiehu stop, named for the park near the hotel I stayed at when I first visited Beijing in 2007. The neighborhood looked very different this time, the trees grown out more, changing the lighting of the streets and sidewalks from what I recalled. But I recognized some of the same restaurants and other buildings from before. I took pictures of the park, despite the overcast, then had lunch at a Cantonese restaurant nearby. I had some dim sum and some char siu barbecue pork, which was very delicious. 

Then I walked about three miles over to Wangfujing street, the big tourist shopping area and browsed the book and music sections of the store I always go to there. (Last summer, I was accosted in the mall there by an "art hooker" who lured me into an art store to sell me art, which you can read about here.) Sadly, I found little to buy. I was getting tired of standing and/or walking, too. 

Entrance gate to Tuanjiehu Park on a rainy day.
Taking the subway back to the station near my hotel went according to plan. But somehow I exited the subway station walking the wrong direction. Somehow I always seemed to exit the wrong way, that is, exiting out a different one than I entered. Think of the four directions of the street intersection above the subway station. No problem, I thought. Just one mile more and I would be back at my hotel room.

The neighborhood looked different but that did not alarm me. I thought it was simply that the trees had grown out. I walked on, thinking I was going the right direction. Then I realized I was going in the wrong direction but I thought I would meet up with a cross street that would lead me back to the hotel's street. 

Tuanjiehu Park
But no! I was going the wrong direction. By the strange yellow-brown light in the cloudy/hazy sky I had no sense of north or south, east or west. Suddenly I did not know where I was or which way to go. I got angry rather than frustrated. It took so long to walk on to the next big intersection just to see what the street sign said. When I got to the next intersection, I pulled out my map and determined where I was at that point. I saw on the map that if I kept going this way, the way I was already going, then turned that way, I would be able to return to my hotel from the north instead of the south.

So I kept walking, my feet getting more sore and my hip joint starting to ache - because, as everyone knows, you tend to get older when you keep walking farther and farther away from your destination. By then, I was moving myself solely from sheer willpower, as the evening started to darken. 
Tuanjiehu Park

I got to the next big intersection - another one - and saw the signs of the avenues in each direction and found them on the map. I realized then that I was even farther away from my hotel. It was maddening! It seemed that none of the directions would be the right direction. I looked at the people strolling past me. I stared at my map. I wondered how I might ask for directions, not knowing any of the right words. I considered if I held up my map they would get the idea I was lost. But none of the people passing me looked like the right person to stop and ask.
Tuanjiehu Park

I sat on a bench there along the sidewalk for a few minutes. I was just about out of walking for the day. Although I did not count my steps, like some fitness fanatics might do, I knew when I had reached my limit. I had to save 15 of them to actually walk through the lobby of the hotel and get on the elevator up to my precious room 424. 

So I flagged down a taxi and showed the driver the card from the hotel which had a map on it. Thank goodness I kept that card inside my passport! The driver got the directions from that little map and took me to the hotel. I saw later that I had been getting close to the Beijing Olympic Park!

Tuanjiehu Park
When he stopped for me, he was heading the wrong direction to simply continue on to the hotel so it required a long turn around, getting on the highway a bit, then charging up narrow parked-car-choked streets and popping out somewhere behind my hotel. Took about 7 minutes of harrowing stunt-driving in the heavy traffic of Beijing. Cost me 20 yuan! But worth every jiao (penny) of the price, just to get me back to my home sweet home away from home again.

I stepped out of the taxi a block from the hotel, where there was a place to pull over. Thankfully, that put me right by the 7-Eleven store where I usually bought my drinks and snacks. So I got some drinks and snacks. I also got myself an ice cream bar, because I deserved to be pampered after all the stress I'd endured in the 90 minutes between exiting that subway station and stepping out of that taxi. 

I was sure glad to be home! Kinda embarrassing getting lost in the big city - more so when you actually have a map in your hand!



Sorry, I didn't feel like taking pictures while I was desperately lost so all I have are the pictures from earlier in the day (Tuanjiehu Park). The ice cream bar was good.


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(C) Copyright 2010-2016 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.

23 August 2015

Getting Hooked on Art in Beijing

If you have been following my adventures last month in Beijing, you know I'm telling it backwards. And that is not a metaphor.

So, after my second week's classes were done, I was finally ready to do some serious sightseeing. I checked maps for tourist sites I had not already visited in my two prior trips to Beijing, calculated subway routes, and prepared my knapsack with essential survival products (for example, t-paper for public restrooms).

Then it rained. They said it was the heaviest rain in Beijing in years. So I stayed in my neat little hotel room and worked on my new novel most of the day Thursday and Friday. I put in about 6 hours of original composition each day. The housekeepers came and went without incident (See previous post). By Saturday morning, I wanted to do something, anything so I wouldn't waste these days completely. I decided to return to Wangfujing Avenue, which is a tourist street in the heart of Beijing. If it rained, I could at least be able to spend the hours browsing in one of the two large bookstores there. 
Oriental Plaza shopping mall and hotel, Wangfujing Avenue in Beijing

So I took the subway to the Wangfujing station, which leads directly into the lower level of the shopping plaza near the Wangfujing bookstore. There is a food court on that lower level so part of my plan was to grab brunch there before moving on to the bookstores. I also planned to find some postcards and other souvenirs since I was in the tourist area. I walked casually through the food court area, more a collection of self-contained restaurants than “fast food” as we know it back home. As I passed an escalator, a girl coming down it called to me. She was short and cute, smiling and asking what I was looking for, as though she could help me.


Well, I look like a big dumb tourist but I’m actually an old professor here to teach an English class, so I had no reason not to be polite and respond to her attempt to help me. We had some small talk about food. I asked her what she recommended. She said the Wangfujing bookstore had restaurants in the lower level, too. I thought it would be one-stop shopping.
The main consideration for me was being able to use my credit card because I was getting low on cash; I knew most stores on Wangfujing would take credit cards. So I followed her out of the Oriental Plaza mall and over to the Wangfujing bookstore. By then, she was mentioning an art exhibition featuring Chinese calligraphy. I knew what that was and I had actually bought some beautiful scroll paintings on my previous visit years before. However, she presumed that as a tourist I would be interested in seeing scroll paintings. 
As we went around the corner of the Wangfujing bookstore--but not entering it--she pointed to the entrance to the lower level restaurants and continued on, determined to show me the art exhibit. It was between breakfast and lunch and I saw in the Oriental Plaza that the food court places were just getting ready to open, so it made sense to go ahead and see some art while we waited for the restaurants to open. I followed. 
She led me into the side entrance of the next building to the Wangfujing bookstore, a hotel, definitely not the front door. I thought that was rather strange to be going in the "back way" if we were going to some "important" art exhibit. But there was a sign there announcing the exhibit. She pointed to it. There was also a guard in uniform behind a desk which had the hotel’s name on it. Across from the desk was a service elevator. 
Hmm, I thought, what is this? She even said "Don’t worry" but it was more like "Don’t wooooooorrrry" like she knew just how to emphasize the word. That made me worry, of course. The elevator opened and we stepped on. Then two young men got on and stood in front of me--between me and the elevator doors. At that moment I felt uneasy; if the three of them were working together, they would have had me right there. Elevator robbery. 
But nothing happened. The elevator arrived at the right floor and the two guys stepped off and my escort showed me to the art exhibit a little ways down the corridor.
The so-called art exhibit was just a small room with scroll paintings lining the walls and a screen set up in the middle to divide the small room into two galleries with more space to hang the scrolls. The art was good. I'm no expert but I know what I like. Everything from nature scenes in traditional Chinese style--like the ones I already had back home--to more modern style paintings. Some with calligraphy writing (poem?) or pandas or even female models posing au naturale
I was particularly attracted to a large painting of a nature scene, a river and the rocks along the shore, summer trees and a Chinese temple hidden among them. The canvas painting was maybe 8 feet long. It as very beautiful, so my escort and the woman running the “exhibit” got me into a conversation about how much I thought it was worth. I countered by saying it would be impossible for me to take it with me on an airplane. So they showed me a much smaller painting, similar kind of nature scene but autumn, on a canvas but not put in a wooden frame. The older woman unrolled the canvas in front of me. It was about 2 x 3 ft. A lovely painting.
But for me it did not matter what the cost was. If it costs 100 dollars but you do not have 100 dollars it doesn’t matter if you like it or not. At first, I thought they were giving me a price in Yuan (about 7 to the dollar) but then it became clear they meant dollars (What if I was French and had no dollars, only euros?). Of course, I did not get up this morning with the idea of buying a painting of anything, much less be pressured into it before I’d even had my breakfast or lunch. So I balked, said I needed to get something to eat before I could decide on whether to buy it or not. I really did not want to buy it, but I was trying to be polite. Up to then my escort and the woman running the art exhibit had been pushy but remained polite.
The idea was proffered that my escort was actually the painter of the smaller unframed painting and because she was "only a student" they could cut the price. I started to see the ploy, but I was saved simply because I really did not have the cash and I was not too confident using a credit card there in that small “shop”. 
I was trying to extract myself because I really was hungry by that point. The deal was undone for me when the next middle-aged foreign man was led into the art exhibit by a young attractive Chinese girl. He was followed quickly by a young tourist couple led by another Chinese woman. We all had been found wandering the streets desirous of calligraphy and in need of a scroll! 


I was able to slip out with that distraction, but not without my escort following me. I said I needed to get something to eat, so I went out the way I'd come in and my escort followed me. I returned to the restaurants on the lower level under the Wangfujing bookstore that she had pointed out. I looked around to see what I might like, then saw the restroom sign and decided I needed to freshen up. I took my time and did not really concern myself whether or not my escort had seen where I went or would be waiting. When I exited, she was there waiting for me. She asked what I was going to eat, then switched to talking about that painting.
Walking among the different restaurants I found nothing that I wanted to eat, so I said I wanted to return to the Oriental Plaza's food court. I knew what was there, even though there were far too many choices. I started out of the lower level food court, got outside and was on the sidewalk back to the entrance of the Oriental Plaza mall next door when she suddenly shouted profanities at me and cursed me for “wasting her time”! That was shocking, but perhaps not so surprising. I knew she was a salesperson once we got into the art “store” but I was intent on maintaining my politeness as a mature adult.


I really hated that she had to let me know I’d wasted her time by using the most popular American swear words. That sort of thing makes you question humanity. You see, now the next time a college or high school student (or appearing to be) speaks to me, wanting to practice English, I will be suspicious. I might even be rude and put him/her off, refusing a conversation, simply because this one person who had seemed friendly and polite, sincere in speaking English with me, was in the end just part of a sales team. I could forgive the sales pitch, but to end it all with the cursing…well, that was uncalled for! I had been polite and I had politely excused myself. She could have done the same, saying “Thanks for taking a look.” I might have returned later to buy a painting, who knows? But to suddenly let loose her full range of profanity was quite disappointing. If her English was good enough to carry on a decent conversation with me, I would think she could put it to better use than seducing middle-aged foreign men out of the Oriental Plaza food court off Wangfujing Avenue.
No problem for me; I shook it off. Now that I was free from the clutches of the salesgirl, I did return to the Oriental Plaza and as I went down the escalator to the lower level food court, a reflection caught my eye: Pizza Hut. There it was! But just to be sure that’s what I wanted, I walked around looking at the other restaurants. I knew they would take a credit card so in I went. I ordered a salad and a medium-size all-the-meats pizza, both of which were rather good. I had peach tea, also. Total cost was 115 Yuan, about 18 dollars. I took my time, relaxed after I finished eating, watching the other patrons come in and order. Lots of young couples on a date, also families with small children.


Finally I went into the Xinhua bookstore. On the first floor were maps so I got a new bilingual map of the city. My old map, which I had been using, did not have the newer subway stations marked on it. I also saw a fine selection of postcard packets so I got a few of them. Then I went upstairs to the English books. It was crowded on all the floors, given that it was Saturday, but I did not see much I had to have. My interest was in Chinese authors translated into English, so I could read their stories and learn about the Chinese condition (much like the human condition, which is what all fiction is ultimately about). I went to the other floors, as well, and discovered fewer books and more of other things like art supplies, musical instruments, and small appliances.
I got a few small souvenirs on one floor. Outside, the sky was dark, threatening rain, but the streets were busy with pedestrians. Business was good. I walked up the street, the wide pedestrian mall, got a cold bottle of juice from one of the many street kiosks, then went into the Beijing Foreign Book Store. I did not take my time going to every floor, just went straight to the English books. I did find two paperbacks of Chinese authors in English to buy, one a translation and the other written in English. After that, I continued walking north through the crowds of pedestrians, stopping in a shop here or there to examine the souvenirs items they had.
Eventually, I thought I was far enough north that I determined it was closer to walk east to meet a subway station than to return south to the station I'd arrived at. However, except when I was sitting in the Pizza Hut, I had been standing or walking for a few hours already (even on the subway I stood), so my legs were tired. I headed east along the street which should take me to the subway station I was looking for, a connection to the line that would take me directly back without having to change subway lines. But it was not where I thought it was and I worried I had gone too far. (On the way, I passed a storefront and a man came out, calling to me, asking where I was from and if I liked Chinese calligraphy! I said I was in a hurry and could not take any time to go into his shop and look at the scrolls.) 
Right where I happened to pause to check my map, I saw a McDonald’s on the corner so I went inside and got an iced latte and sat down to study the map better. Refreshed once more, I continued on and found the station. Once I got off at the subway stop nearest to my hotel, I climbed the many stairs to the surface and proceeded to walk the few blocks back to my hotel. On the way, I stopped at a convenience store to load up on drinks and at a “bakery” for a sandwich and a pastry for later. 
After I returned to my neat little room, I unloaded my purchases and peeled off my sweaty clothes, took a shower, and lay on the bed for a nap. It was a good day, all in all. Later I got up and did some writing on my book, then went to sleep again. Life in a little hotel in Beijing. 

Next time: The Adventure Begins!


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(C) Copyright 2010-2015 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.