We capped off our tour of Beijing this morning with a Hutong Rickshaw ride and a visit to the Summer Palace. The pedicab (rickshaw) drivers brought us through the narrow alleyways (hutong) of a residential neighborhood at impressive speeds, even the smallest driver who had the pleasure of carting around Will and Donovan. We snapped some great pictures (we will decide how to make these pictures public soon) and visited the home of a retired factory worker and her artist husband. After aiding in the continued meteoric rise of the Chinese GDP, we headed to the old summer home of the emperors. The Summer Palace was also a favorite destination for Cixi, the famously manipulative matriarch pulling the strings behind the scenes for three emperors. It was a dreamlike setting with a hazy fog blanketing the massive man-made lake, an ornate marble boat, arched bridges, and the expansive and intricately carved and painted corridors that led us through a garden full of old cedars, willows, and magnolias.
We had to say goodbye to our guide, Blue Flag Jack, when we got to the airport for our flight to Xian. Jack led us valiantly for three days, albeit with an agenda as he shared about the wonders of communism, their religious freedom, and improved relations with ethnic minorities. He put up with some of our American ignorance, trail of garbage, and inattention to schedules as he showed us the best of Beijing. Thanks, Blue Flag Jack!
Two flights down, and we were still fifty people, fifty passports, and forty-nine bags strong. Some Wang (like Smith over here) took the 50th bag, but Mary tracked him down and we successfully made the bag switch.
Love,
All of us in China
No comments:
Post a Comment