Back in northern China

Back to the hustle of Beijing. July 2017

We are in the air heading for Beijing. Only 37 Chinese pushed in front of us during the various queues to get on board - a mere warm up for what is to come. Our driver seemed genuinely sad at our leaving and told us in his best broken English that he was driving slowly to the airport to extend our time together! Language is no barrier to a kindred connection. We shall miss the colours of the Mongolian countryside - grey-blues, subtle sage greens and soft ochre reds. Both the creatures and the people are shaggy, welcoming and gentle. It really was a splendid time. Plus, the local beer (Chinggis [Genghis] Khan) was tasty as!

We were unable to see Beijing as we landed, we couldn't even make out the end of the runway. The smog here is bad but apparently much better than it used to be. Once, you sat two feet from someone and could not see them. Now, only when you look out the window from the 5th floor are you unable to see the ground - heaps better!

The contrast from Mongolia is culture-shock worthy. The food is much improved, once you cull out the Duck Blood in Chilli Sauce, Cheese fish and fried Pork Intestine, or our favourite, Fried Enema. However, being a huge city, the locals are not as welcoming as in Mongolia. Beijing just seethes, the people are loud and swarming and determined to be in front of you. The young ones (< 35 to us ancient ones) totally disparage the ways of the older generation - those old Maoists that formed the West's view of Chinese as pushy and greedy. Environmentalism, the preservation of history and learning about the outside world are firmly in the minds of younger, more modern Chinese. When confronted by an officious older man wielding his uniformed authority without any real cause, our guide muttered "Red guard", a reference to the soldiers of the [Maoist] revolution and their now much rejected ways. The 'little emperors' raised by the one-child families have (mostly) been replaced by a more balanced upbringing. Of course according to Tony there are still too many fat spoilt little c***ts. Bless. That said, there are still many tourist traps. Fake ID cards for 'taxi drivers', menus with significantly higher prices for tourists, fake everything! We had to throw a tantrum and threaten the police when we were charged $180 US for a few beers and peanuts.

We have visited the few remaining ancient things that survived the great Maoist purge. What a shocker -- stunning antiquities, thousands of years of an elegant and erudite history bulldozed and replaced with Stalinest austerity. The young ones shake their heads in disbelief. Surprisingly, the current government has seen the folly in tearing down history, and has decided to fix it.

The scale on which things are done here is hard to get your head around. From the train we pass huge developments (dozens and dozens of tower block apartments) being built to accommodate those the government wants to move from the crowded inner cities. The old walled city of Datong has been selected to be rebuilt in its original ancient style as a tourist destination, so they are in the midst of knocking down 3.2 square kilometres of city, and replacing it with 'old' style housing, a replica Imperial palace and assorted bell towers, all surrounded by a huge replica wall. Those who have lived there for lawd knows how long are being moved to the new tower blocks somewhere else... Huge structures to take bullet trains from one city to another are sprouting across the countryside, towering 30m above humble farmers squatting in their fields as they tend them by hand.

Yet amongst this incredible development is the constant reminder that you are in China. Our Four Star hotel is filthy, and the internet only works if you stand in the hallway. Whenever Hong Kong is mentioned on CNN, the screen goes to black. The bathroom was designed without consideration for the oversized marble counter top, which is so large that it is awkward to actually use the loo. The grand marble foyer reeks of years of cigarette smoke and swarms with identically dressed Chinese men (pale blue short-sleeved nylon shirt, grey pants, black belt with silver buckle - square), accompanied by a jumpy recording of Richard Clayderman's Greatest hits.

T-shirt winner of the day, worn by a heaving, bosomed middle age woman: "Suck my left one"