Arrival in Beijing

Arrival was like nothing I expected. As we neared the city, the air outside went from black to brown. The smog was intense. All the way from 2000 feet or so, to 50 feet off the ground, we couldn't see a thing. Finally, emerging from the 'cloud', I got my first glimpse of China's capital, or at least, the airport. Upon entering the gigantic Terminal 3 (I think that's the one), I could see the utterly monstrous size of the place. The ceiling was easily 200 feet up. Walking in with a single planeload felt like walking through a deserted city, up to customs, at which the feeling changed entirely. Passing through was easy (no Mandarin required). Not to mention everything, and I mean everything is in English. Then, of course, came my first experience with Beijing's infamously packed subway lines (this one was an airport shuttle). Everyone comes to China thinking that they will be awash in a sea of people: that it will be foreign, strange and utterly congested with pedestrians. Not so. Perhaps it is busier than North American public transit - but not on a regular basis is it truly as packed as the stories say it is.

Having walked for several hundred meters to get to the exit (that's the challenge), I found myself in a taxi with no ability to communicate the location of my hostel to my driver. After about 15 minutes of 2-becomes-3 lane driving, I found the number of my hostel, called it, and spent the next hour and a half (or at least what seemed like it) in the taxi, learning pinyin pronunciations, my first being that of the Jishuitan station (Jeeshwaytan, tones:1,3,1 I think).

Having made our way to Deshengmen Nei Dajie (duhshungmeun nay dahjie, tones:2,4,0,1,4,1), we pulled into Dashihu Hutong, and up to the most classic set of chinese gates I could have imagined. Entirely red, they contained a smaller door for personal entry, and old iron-bar padlocks. My hostess/hostel manager spoke some english-- a very welcome sound to hear in a strange city.

Walking into the hostel, it became apparent just how classic it was. An open courtyard contained the doors to all of the rooms, with the main office and bathroom on separate walls of the same courtyard.

It took some time to get used to the surroundings - but I learned to love it. I spent the first day at the hostel learning a bit more about my surroundings. Of the things that I discovered, the best was the traditional market, just a couple of minutes walk from the hostel itself. There, as long as one was canny enough to realize that westerners were asked for twice the regular price, one could obtain a cheap, tasty, and quite authentic meal.