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Doubling back after the overwhelmingly spacious and symmetrical Forbidden City, I took a circuitous route back to Wangfujing, to see more of the city.  Along the way, I spotted this “must-try” drink, questionable hygiene and safety aside:

Yup, milk milk product from China, from some open stall on an anonymous street corner, held in an unrefrigerated box… perhaps the clay container keeps it cool?  I’m not sure what I was thinking, but I regretted it after the first sip.  Consistency of yoghurt, but with a strange bitter taste that had no place in any kind of milk product…  Curse my upbringing (or lack of intelligence), but I drank half of it before it occurred to me that perhaps I didn’t have to finish the entire thing before returning the jar.  I chose to view the subsequent queasiness in my stomach as a sign of my wisdom in leaving the drink behind, instead of evidence of my folly in purchasing it in the first place. 

In Wangfujing, Intime Lotte impresed me in three ways: lots of space, lots of staff, and lots digits in the prices.  I saw a watch of some unknown-to-me brand that went for ¥100,000 (about $10,000 USD)!  Fortunately, the Beard Papa in their basement had normal prices for my kind of luxurious good.

The Wangfujing strip wasn’t that interesting, nor particularly crowded in the early afternoon when I took this picture.  The crowds picked up a bit by later in the afternoon.

While exploring, I noticed that my guidebook glowingly described the Quanjude Restaurant just off the strip, so I stopped by to have my first roast duck in Beijing.

Unfortunately, I did not enjoy the meal.  The positives:

• The mushroom soup was delicious.  I originally ordered another soup from the menu, but I was counseled against it and redirected to this fine broth.  I don’t really know what was in it, other than several kinds of mushrooms, but it was beautifully complex, especially for a vegetarian(?) dish.

And the negatives:

• The duck meat was too lean for my tastes.  This leanness is noted as a positive point in the menu literature, however.
• The meat is dipped into sugar, then sliced cucumbers and a savory sauce (duck meat juices?) are added.  Probably because it’s familiar, but I prefer a sweet sauce (e.g. Hoisin sauce).
• The pancakes were too thick; I like them much thinner.

Disappointing, and I later discovered (from a native) that a restaurant’s name can’t be trusted.  Some restaurants have no affiliation, except that they bought the rights to use the name for their own restaurant.  I also learned that there were several “styles” of Peking Duck available in Beijing.  A situation where being guided by a native really would have helped…

Tired and full – if not entirely happy – I returned to my hotel.  I made arrangements with the local travel agent for the next day, booking a private guide and driver for the Great Wall and Summer Palace.  My incremental agenda set for the next 24 hours at least, I headed to my room with the intent to briefly rest and get cleaned up.  The maids had visited, though, and left the bed in such a lovely state that I could not resist: in the middle of my first afternoon in Beijing, I was found blissfully sleeping on my firm-yet-comfortable bed.

The day didn’t quite end there, though.  Awakening shortly after sundown, I ventured to the shopping district just south of my hotel, an impressive collection of department stores along the street.  The product quality and prices were fairly reasonable from a westerner’s perspective; I bought a small satchel for the next day, as my luggage was still unexpectedly absent.  The stores also had several interesting features typically not found in North America: a skating rink and Rolls Royce come to mind.  The stores did close at a surprisingly conservative hour of 10pm, however, so I was soon forced to retreat to a sushi restaurant for a mediocre dinner, and then to the hotel to end the day.

It being far too early for the first wave of tourists into the Forbidden City, I took my time on the way over, trying to create “interesting” pictures, and even then still had time to cool my heels at the front gate.

Looking to and fro, up and down, gave me ample opportunity to also appreciate how polluted Beijing was.  7:30am, but it’s not bright sunshine and blue skies; instead, it’s a grey haze that can be seen even from short distances.

At the stroke of… well, I forget what time, but at that time, the ticket lines opened and we were allowed in.  I picked up one of their location sensitive audio guides; I’d never used one before.  Mixed feelings on the experience.  It’s not that they did a bad job, and it was interesting to hear how fluent British English sounded with a Mandarin influence (i.e. slightly musical), but they gave me a lot of  borings facts I didn’t care about.  I don’t want to know where the Emperor had breakfast or where he napped.  I was interested to learn that the number of statuette guardians on top of the building indicated its relative importance.

Needless to say, the large tour groups were out in force.

I spent a couple of hours in  the Forbidden City – it’s very large – but I didn’t feel particularly inspired to take many photographs.  The overall architecture said “square, symmetrical, space” to me, and the various artefacts from the era were hidden in the buildings where tourists would lean over the barrier to get some harsh, direct-flash photographs from 10 metres away.

On the way out and towards Wangfujing, I did find some fun with reflections.   The Forbidden City strikes me as far more interesting from the outside.

Considering the bulk of my itinerary planning happened after my plane took off from Toronto, I didn’t exactly have a clear schedule in mind.  Doing some reading after checking in, I realized that the Forbidden City and the Wangfujing shopping district were very close to the hotel.  I dislike “over-planned” vacations, so I opted for just those two on my first day, and to let fate fill the rest with happenstance.  Besides, my checked luggage was still MIA; I needed to do some shopping to tide me over.

I’m typically not an early riser on vacations – or otherwise for that matter.  It is shocking, then, that I was at up at 7am; I think I had in mind to “beat the crowds” at the Forbidden City.  I discovered Beijing wasn’t an early riser either; the pedestrian walkways were deserted, as was Wangfujing.

While my eagerness to butcher the Mandarin language might have played a role, I think hunger was the main motivator as I approached this street vendor in the barren Wangfujing.  Natives seemed to be going, so why not tourists.  I had my guidebook, I knew what a bao zi was, and theoretically how it was pronounced.

It’s obvious then, that I should somehow end up ordering *three* bao zi.  At least I only ordered one soy milk drink.  I think I misinterpreted her query about quantity to be a discussion of price.  :p  The soy milk was fine, and the buns were… salty.  I eventually conquered my childhood training to “clean my plate” by about the 2nd bun, leaving a just enough  room for a second attempt at breakfast.

The second breakfast attempt occurred just outside the Forbidden City, a hold in the wall stall with quite a promising lineup.  I studied the store and their clientèle for several minutes before entering the queue myself; I needed to figure out what the most popular order was, and how to accomplish the order with minimum risk of verbal interaction.  I was successful.    It was simple breakfast fare, basically a toasted sesame bread of some sort with a fried egg inside.  I believe I was told later it was some kind of Muslim breakfast?  It was delicious, much better than the bao zi.  Yes, that is soy milk again; we all have our beverage addictions, don’t we?

Feeling energized by finally having a good meal in China, I headed over to the Forbidden City to be there when ticket lines opened.  I  people watched on the way, and even shared my breakfast with one particularly adorable Chinese citizen.