The long trek to immigration was actually somewhat enjoyable after being crammed in those seats for a solid 8 hours. We were even more thankful for our early arrival once we reached the immigration hall. The queue was fairly short at first, but hordes of passengers arriving on other flights came rushing toward the queue, which stretched a long ways down the hall just minutes later. Fortunately, we were admitted into the country in just a little over 20 minutes.
First order of business was coffee, as both us didn’t sleep much on the plane. Fortunately, there was a Starbucks in the arrivals hall, and a few cups of coffee later and I felt somewhat human again. Since we had some time before we were scheduled to meet our driver, we caught up on texts/emails/etc. with the airport’s fast and free wifi.
Normally, we’d prefer to explore on our own. But we were only in Beijing for 20 hours, so professional help was necessary to help maximize our time there. After consulting Trip Advisor and the wonderful China forum right here on FlyerTalk, I contacted the highly recommended Simon via email. Simon was not available that day, but his colleague Henry was. The price was fairly reasonable at $160 for 12 hours, including airport pick up and drop off, so I went ahead and booked it. The day before, Henry contacted me via Whatsapp, and we agreed to meet at the arrival hall at 7:30 AM. Sure enough, a well-dressed gentlemen with a chauffeur’s cap was walking around the hall with my name on it at 7:20.
We were in his brand new Hyundai Sonata Hybrid (props for going green!) minutes later, whizzing toward the Mutianyu section of the Great Wall of China.
Nothing screams Great Wall of China like a Burger King: Home of the Whopper.
Henry escorted us to the ticket office and helped us purchase tickets for the chair lift to the wall and the tobaggen back down. Then it was off to the chairlift, which is more accurately described as left over 90s era larn furniture attached to a giant lift. The worker slammed down the safety bar for us just as we left the platform, and we were off.
A sneak peak of how we were getting down.
Our first glimpse of the Great Wall.
Now, I knew beforehand this particular section of the Great Wall was heavily restored to accommodate hordes of tourist. That said, to see the sheer size and scale of the wall firsthand and to think it was accomplished without the aid of modern technology is truly awe inspiring. It is truly a testament to the willpower, ingenuity, and ability of mankind. My dad has given me a hard time for years as I have been to quite a few places around the world but I have never gone to see one of the greatest accomplishments of my ancestral homeland. I’m glad I finally did. It is truly awe-inspiring.
We found it amusing that every single person we encountered on the wall that morning was American. Might as well have been anywhere in the U.S. Speaking of which, 20 bucks says Paisley is from the good ol’ US of A.
Eventually we tired of climbing up and down the Wall and decided to head to the toboggan station, which was just past where we got off the chair lift. I’d be lying if said I wasn’t a bit apprehensive of going down a mountain in what was basically a furniture dolly with brakes. However, it ended up being a lot of fun. Later that night when we were back at Beijing Capital Airport waiting for our flight to Ho Chi Minh City, I did a little Googling about the toboggan, and found that the recent former First Lady had gone down the toboggan during a visit to the Wall a few years ago. I suppose if the Secret Service deemed it alright for the First Lady of the United States, I suppose it’s good enough for me.
We met up with Henry at the parking lot. Our agreed upon itinerary had us having an early dumpling lunch after the Great Wall. But lunch would have been at the dumpling house next to the aforementioned Burger King, and I wasn’t too keen on a rather touristy place. Besides, we were also still sort of full at that time. So we opted to move on. While Henry seemed a little disappointed, he agreed and on we went. Somewhere in between the Great Wall and Beijing, Henry asked again if we mind stopping for lunch. We agreed, and we pulled up next to the Chinese equivalent of a roadside diner. The menu was surprisingly extensive. We eventually settled on a plate of stir-fried vegetables, pan-fried pork buns, and bowl of red bean congee. I insisted on ordering in my broken Mandarin, but I eventually swallowed my pride and deferred to pointing and Henry’s help. Lunch was delicious, and probably far better than the dumpling house near the Wall.
After lunch, it was another 90 minutes or so before we reached Tinnamen Square.
We then walked across the street, via tunnel, to the Forbidden City.
First order of business was to purchase tickets to enter Forbidden City as well as the gatehouse, which afforded a nice view of Tinnamen Square.
Unlike my last visit to the Forbidden City, there wasn’t a need to present identification or go through security prior to even approaching the famous site. But there were plenty of tough looking guys in suits with earpieces dotted around.
The abundance of broken cobblestone made getting around a pain.
The intricate paintings on the ceiling beams were absolutely beautiful.
My friend is a historian by trade, and it ticked him off to no end watching hordes of tourists have absolutely no respect for the buildings or the grounds. People were climbing all over the buildings and sculptures without a second thought, or batting an eyelash at the potential consequence for their actions. Many of the beautiful buildings subject to this sort of treatment looked very worn in the areas that were constantly touch. Another thing that annoyed both of us is most people appeared to be more interested in getting the perfect selfie than actually appreciating the Forbidden City, which for many years was closed to public. The population of China is over a 1 billion, but the number of selfie sticks felt like twice that number. I lost count of how many times we was slapped in the face by a selfie stick.
After close to four hours of exploring the Forbidden City, we headed out to meet Henry and head to our next stop, dinner. I wasn’t terribly hungry, but I was looking forward to trying what was billed as one of the best Peking Duck restaurants in Beijing.
Peking duck is one of my most favorite Chinese dishes. It involves a roast duck with crisped skin. The crisp skin is then carved with bits of meat, which is then placed in a wrap, resembling a very thing tortilla, or a steamed bun with sweet plum sauce and scallions. Nicer restaurants do the carving tableside in front of the customer, which in this case the restaurant we went to that night nailed. The waiter looked like a real pro carving up the duck. We were also given a small pamphlet with information on the farm our duck was raised in as well as the duck’s serial number. I mean, who wouldn’t want to know more about the animal they’re about to eat?
After carving, the waiter helped us make one of the wraps. Excited to have Peking duck in Beijing for the first time, I eagerly took a bite and was royally disappointed. The skin had the texture of chicharrones, and it was far too greasy to the point a copious amount of grease was actually dripping from my wrap. The sauce that was served with the duck was black bean sauce. I do like black bean sauce not with my roast duck. Its saltiness really overpowered the flavor of the duck. The other dishes we ordered were equally as disappointing. In short, this was the most disappointing meal of our trip.
After dinner, it was off to our final stop, the Olympic Village. My friend wasn’t all that excited about it, but I was pretty stoked as a big sports fan. There’s been plenty of articles floating around the interwebs about abandoned and decrepit condition of a number of Olympic parks, including Rio de Janeiro, host of the 2016 Summer games. With the exception for the course used for rowing, everything appeared to be a pristine as it appeared on TV nine years ago.
