Saturday Wandering

I keep meaning to write a sequel to the post about my Saturday adventure in Prince Gong's garden. (Boy, that sounds a lot more exciting than the post actually was.) Prince Gong's garden had nothing to eat aside from instant noodles, hideously unhealthy snacks, and 100 RMB/person tea. I think they are really missing an opportunity there. It would be quite a nice place to sit and eat if there were anything worth eating. However, since I was pretty hungry I went out and started wandering around the hutongs near Houhai, one of the lakes in central Beijing.

Gradually, I made a meal out of street food, namely: one serving of suannai (drinkable yoghurt) in a pottery cup (I gave it back rather than making off with it like I usually do), one flatbread that was like a cross between nan and a croissant... if you can imagine it... flaky plus chewy, one cup of soy milk. I was kind of looking for a jianbing but didn't find one, and oddly all the walking plus the heat made me not really very hungry.

I didn't take pictures because I wasn't really feeling like a sight-seer. I just walked and walked. Huge numbers of chess parlors. Sketchy beauty parlors. Unidentifiable shops and strange smells. At one point the alley suddenly gave onto a destruction zone. Okay, probably it was a construction zone, but it was a horrible mess, and smelling strongly of something related to acetone. I went down a block and dived back into the hutongs, completely lost I will add. Just wandering.

Eventually I found Houhai and started walking along there--lots of bars and shops catering to Westerners. Here was a great sign I saw by one such bar.

Another shop was selling a variety of leaf origami creatures including a superb woven frog... but how to pack such a thing? My leaf preying mantis is still faithfully with me, though much desiccated. I'm not sure how or whether I'm going to bring it home, but I think I would like to try. Well, maybe I'll make it back there again before I go.

I came out onto a more upscale road, and somewhere along there saw a clothing shop and went in. It's a pity I am not more petite, as buying clothing here is deeply economical. Actually I did find something that fit. I'm a little divided as to whether it makes me look fat (it does, a bit, from the front; these pix are deliberately attempting to give a flattering view, I confess it) but for twelve dollars, I figured it was worth a try.

In a culture that prizes lightness of skin, the only way I can feel pretty with my dreadful peasant tan is to wear white... which also has the advantage of being cooler.


I got to a really large intersection, which I had definitely seen before. First I smelled an incredibly putrid smell, like warm dog poop mixed with something worse. Then I smelled something amazingly delicious, unidentifiably delicious, just like the smell of home when your mom's in a good mood, a smell that is like la promesse de bonheur. The first smell, I knew from experience, was stinky tofu. But in the shop next door they were selling huge wedges of some kind of cake, so fresh hot it was still steaming. They were doing a brisk business too. Maybe it was the smell, or maybe it was just the sight of other people standing in line for something that was obviously good. I stood in line too. After a while I deciphered the sign: the King of Date Cake. No sooner was one cake chopped up and sold after, but another huge cake was turned out onto the wire rack by the baker boy.

The minimum purchase was a jin, which is maybe something like a pound? Or maybe more? Anyway, three enormous blocks plus a slice for generosity's sake, 7 RMB. How could I resist? I ate the slice as I was walking away. It was marvellously delicious!! So good in fact that after I had hailed a cab and got home (salivating from the wonderful smell) I ate a whole big block, whilst sitting on my couch. It tasted a bit like a chewier zucchini bread, so fresh and good, not over-sweet.

It was quite a satisfying day, and as always when I make it into the center of town I contemplated how different I would feel about Beijing if I had lived near there instead, by Yonghe Temple where my friend the Lama lives, or something like that. Probably I would not be so insular and bored in my room. Probably I would just wander, and get braver and braver about going into little shops. Perhaps I would even have gotten around to getting the lining of my coat repaired. But such thoughts are useless. At any rate, I had a very satisfying wander and got home feeling refreshed and ready for the week.