A Palace for the Summer

This describes our first full day in Beijing

May 9th, Monday

Sha met Rob, Sally, Chris and me at the hotel to take us out to breakfast at the kuaile jia yuan (meaning "Merry Home") round the corner––seaweed soup with dumplings, baozi (buns stuffed with meat and dipped in vinegar) and what Sha called "porridge," a watery gruel with bits of rice in it. The following morning she kindly lent us a toaster to use at the hotel, so I confess we didn't persist with the Chinese breakfasts (sliced bread and bananas being available from the local Wumart).

Then, having hailed a pair of taxis, Sha took us along the 4th ring road to the Qing Dynasty Emperors' Summer Palace (yi he yuan). Travelling along Chinese roads in a passenger seat was something we had to grit our teeth and get used to. No seat belts, the vehicles weaving all over the place in close proximity and nothing on the road signs comprehensible, although Chris mastered the characters for EXIT. Bikes and tricycles were loaded beyond belief.

The Summer Palace on Kunming Lake looked as crowded as I'd anticipated although fewer people were walking beyond the areas near its gates. Its temples, bridges and pagodas, first built in 1750 by Emperor Qianlong, were largely destroyed by Anglo-French forces in the Opium war of 1860, restored during Emperor Guangxu's reign three decades later, damaged again during the Boxer Rebellion, restored again in 1902. After the Revolution the Palace grounds were appropriated by the Chinese government and have been a public park since 1924. Sha used to be brought here at weekends and on holidays by her parents to dance along the paths and have picnics by the lake and to admire the legendary animals and people painted on the roofs and walls. The long corridor (over 700 m long!) at the northern end of the lake, for example, is covered with murals and ceiling paintings inside and out, each picture telling a story from the Chinese classics. I was touched to hear that when my daughter-in-law was a little girl, her dad used to carry her on his shoulders to show her these pictures and tell her some of the stories.

Dragon boats and pedal boats were crossing the lake and we chose to walk all the way around it. West Lake in Hangzhou (where we'd be staying later) was the inspiration for its features. The West Causeway was a long dyke incorporating decorative bridges and the beauty spots had poetic names––the Temple of Timely Rains and Excessive Moisture, the Rock of Longevity, the Pavilion of Bright Scenery (jing ming lou) recalling a 13th century painting and poem:

The Spring is peaceful and the scenery is bright. The waves are sleeping ...

We sat in the equally peaceful courtyard of the Dragon God Temple on South Lake Island across the 18th century seventeen arch bridge, one of the park's most prominent features. Money had been thrown at the god's feet and plastic flowers decorated its altar. Flowers were growing on the roof of the gateway.

From the causeway we saw Chinese pond herons and a flock of low flying water birds, as well as a pair of grebes doing a courtship display; he offered her a fish.

We crossed the steep bridges including the Jade Belt Bridge over which Emperors and Empresses used to walk from their Garden of Clear Ripples to the Jade Spring Hills. There used to be a "weaving and dyeing bureau" (sic) here for the production of silks, the silkworms nourished from the "ancient mulberries" beside which we sat to eat a hot dog for lunch, a sausage on a stick with a sweet breadroll (mianbao), not very appetising really. Across the water we noticed the famous stone boat, another novelty for the 18th century courtiers. I thought of Versailles. At the gift shops Chris bought a history book and Rob bought a CD of Chinese guzheng music.

We returned to the Great Hornki by bus, costing us ¥1 each for a 40 minute ride! Because we could get on at the terminus we all got seats and the conductress in a blue uniform kept order on the bus. The cityscape was similar all the way, neon shop signs, street vendors selling fruit, street sweepers wielding twig brooms. The noise and proximity of 20 million other people becomes overwhelming, but thanks to Sha we had thoroughly enjoyed our first outing.

At supper on our own across the road from the hotel I was hopeless at ordering and have no idea what we ate, a lot of stir fried vegetables with red chilli peppers and a bubbling pot of liver and other offal, the chopped intestine of some animal floating in the broth (the liver was OK)! We filled ourselves with rice and beer. Then George came over and walked round the block with us. At the university, he had given an impromptu presentation to a jet-lagged group of astronomers that day, before eating with his in-laws who treat him very kindly indeed.