Posts tagged with "travel"

Summer approaches, and with it blows the stifling heat of the western desert winds. In Beijing, temperatures exceed 90 degrees Fahrenheit daily, which coupled with humidity and miles upon miles of blacktop and concrete, gives you a pretty good idea what a steamed bun, or 包子 (bāo zi) feels like. Luckily, there are a few scenic locations in Beijing that have just the things to beat the heat: lots of shade and a large body of water.

The Summer Palace, or 颐和园 ( yuán), is just the place to stay cool while enjoying the outdoors. Situated in the northwest corner of Beijing (known as the Haidian district or 海淀区[Hǎi diàn ]) just outside of the 4th ring road, it is a paradise of Chinese architecture, featuring immaculate gardens, mini-forests, and of course, a sprawling man-made lake. While it may be 95 degrees in downtown Beijing, I can guarantee you that the cool, watery breezes of 颐和园 are at least 10 degrees cooler.

Tickets are rather cheap (between 30 and 80 yuan depending upon ticket type and seasonal fluctuation of prices), and transportation doesn’t cost more than 10-20 yuan if you take the subway to Haidian district. For more information, schedules, hours and attractions, click here.

Upon passing through the entrance gates, you find yourself gazing out onto the calm waters of Kunming lake, or 昆明湖 (Kūn míng ). Various walkways circumnavigate the lake, which takes up 3/4 of the 725 acres encompassing the palace. For an hourly fee and a deposit, you can rent motor and paddle boats (something I highly recommend) and tour the Palace  on Kunming Lake (maybe with a couple of 瓶子s of 啤酒). If you prefer to stay on land, there are numerous specialty gardens, pavilions and art galleries along the looped pathway. You can also ascend Longevity Hill and take in a mixture of traditional 传统 (chuán tǒng) and  modern 现代 (xiàn dài) China as the Summer Palace sits in the fore ground and the cluster of skyscrapers of downtown Beijing looms in the background. Here the China of the past and present meet serenely at the horizon.

The extravagance of the Summer Palace transports you back to those dynastic days where immense displays of architecture and groundskeeping boasted the wealth, power and reverence commanded by Emperors 皇帝 (huáng ) and royalty. The Palace was,  after all, a summer resort for the Beijing elite to flee to when summers proved to be too hot or too boring in the central Forbidden Palace.  As the story goes, the Empress Dowager Cixi, during the chaotic and tumultuous imperialist years of the 1880s, embezzled navy funds–30 million tales of silver–to revamp and reconstruct the Palace to her liking, which included her construction of a massive marble and jade “boat”. Suffice it to say, the boat did not fulfill the first requirement of the Imperial navy–it failed to float.

While this proved a bad omen leading to the eventual collapse of the royal families and the Qing Dynasty, it did succeed in creating a wonder of Chinese architecture and landscaping renowned throughout the world. It has been rebuilt and reconstructed following a half century of ransacking, shelling and demolition from both foreign and Chinese military, emerging yet again as a historical icon. If you are in Beijing, or plan on travel within the next few months, The Summer Palace is a must visit location..

 

 

 

 

 

All photographs are courtesy of Stephen M. Fiedler, twitter: @seeitbelieveit

Please contact for any use of these images.

 

Well it’s that time of the year again in China when temperatures (温度 wēn dù) rise (上升 shàng shēng) and a great deal of humidity (潮 cháo) descends upon the mainland (大陆 dàlù). Whether you live in 北京,上海 or 重庆,summer (夏天 xià tiān) always comes early in China. For some people, air conditioning (空调 kōng tiáo) provides a safe haven from the muggy, hot streets outside.

For those that can tolerate being outside, bottled beer (啤酒 pí jiǔ), water (水 shuǐ) and ice cream (冰淇淋 bīng qí lín) will help you weather the heat, but only for a short time. In mega-cities like Beijing and Shanghai, the sheer amount of concrete and pavement further heats the cities, creating an oven that absorbs and locks in high temperatures even throughout dusk (薄暮 bó mù). At some point, you need to get out of the city and cool off.

For most foreigners, we usually beat the heat by heading to some body of water. However, in China, there aren’t too many clean lakes, shorelines or rivers available for leisure. Finding them is tricky, as the well known ones are often crowded beyond capacity. Sure you can ask travel agents, citizens or foreigners, but odds are they’re going to tell you the same five places highlighted by the Chinese Ministry of Commerce and Tourism (and most of them will be a wash). That being said, ask enough people and travel enough, and you will find a nice place to cool off. For me that place was 千岛弧 (Qiān dǎo hú) or Thousand Island Lake, which is situated about a two hour bus ride northwest of Hangzhou. Click here for previous post on Hangzhou.

Video Slideshow of Thousand Island Lake tour:

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Touted as one of the few pristine water tables of China (many Chinese bottled water companies draw from 千岛湖), Thousand Island lake is filled with large mouth bass (a delicacy there) and wildlife that seems almost non-existent in the rest of China. Originally it was a gorge, filled in by a dam project, now it is one of the little known secrets among Chinese citizens (we were the only two foreigners in the entire city) looking to get out on the water.

By day you can take a boat or ferry ride to many different islands which act as animal sanctuaries (housing monkeys, snakes, birds and reptiles). You can also fish, partake in water sports and even go on a scenic gondola ride overlooking most of the “one thousand” islands.

By night, you can relax by the water front, watching dazzling lit fountain displays while the locals gather to sing and dance in a square of thousands. The food has a distinct southern feel to it, and every restaurant you pass by will have live freshwater fish and other creatures, swimming in a tank, just waiting to be chosen for dinner. Be forewarned, almost no one in 千岛湖 speaks English, so your Chinese skills will be put to good use. Grab a beer, take a seat on the water, and start up a conversation with a 朋友s.

All photographs are courtesy of Stephen M. Fiedler, twitter: @seeitbelieveit

Please contact for any use of these images.

 

As the transition from winter to spring occurs, and we experience a “change of seasons” or 物换星移 (wùhuànxīngyí), a real chance to shed off all those winter layers and have some fun outside emerges. Sure winter was frigid, summer’s going to be sweltering, but right now Chinese weather has found a happy medium.

To understand China’s four seasons or 四季 (sìjì), one must to understand the rule of extremes. From Beijing to Nanjing, weather or 天气 (tiānqì) usually fluctuates between extreme highs or lows. Most people in cities like Beijing or Shanghai will tell you that as a result, fall and spring are the best times to be in China (and hence all the festivals). What I’ve found in my experience is that winter or 冬天 (dōngtiān) is the best time to find some peace and quiet, especially at historic landmarks or scenic areas that are usually over-run with tourists. Sure the weather is guaranteed to be frigid, but a newly purchased knock-off winter jacket and a couple sips of baijiu will get you moving and on your way. Most tourists wont venture out into the wilderness during negative degree days with wind chills in the minus thirties, so if you can take the cold, grab your camera and hit the trails.

Here are some photos taken this time last year when the weather really cleared up. Unlike my previous visits to the Great Wall, which were mired with tourists, pushy vendors and massive tour groups (all wearing the same uniform and brightly colored hats) with guides barking orders into megaphones, this visit was quiet, isolated and…well closer to embodying the austerity and propriety of this historic landmark.

The trip began by meeting up with “Jack”, a retired or 退休 (tuìxiū), ex-military official-turned entrepreneur (企业家) and driver in Beijing, he raced us the 200 plus kilometer distance to the Simitai section of the Great Wall (司马台长城) just northwest of Beijing province. Slight tangent here, but if you ever want a lesson in rally car racing, find this guy Jack. The entire cab ride, he was putting his sporty Audi V6 through narrow passes, taking turns at 100 plus km and using the left and wrong lane as his own personal fast pass while he played chicken with everything from donkey-pulled-carts to bulldozers.

Narrowly making it just half an hour before sunset, Jack, the ex-military man, suggested that we could run the entire 10 km path in a little more than an hour in all earnestness, but we insisted on a more leisurely pace. As it turned out, sunset started soon after we approached the elevated parts of the wall and by sheer luck we timed the it perfectly. There were no crowds, no loud noises, and none of the frantic throngs clogging the stairways, just a calm and serenity or 宁静 (níngjìng) unusual to Chinese landmarks.

Check out the full gallery:

When we last saw our 老外 heroes, they had just set up camp and were ready to rock and roll at the 2nd Annual In Music Festival.  Having met some super cool next door neighbors (隔壁邻居 – gé bì lín jū) at their campsite, our heroes embark on an epic weekend of music and fun.  What shenanigans will they get themselves into this time?  Read on to find out!

Not more than 5 minutes after setting up camp, our neighbors were already calling us over to share their ample supply of snacks (小吃 – xiǎo chī) and 啤酒.  Although my previous Chinese music festival experience had been incredibly different from my many American festival experiences, our overly hospitable neighbors showering us in beer struck a chord of familiarity.  As opposed to the Yi Xian Festival, whose audience was mostly composed of families that seemed to have gotten lost and accidentally drifted into a rock festival, the Zhang Bei Festival was full of energetic Chinese music fans who clearly came for the music, and, of course, the party (晚会 – wǎn huì).  This much was clear from the binge drinking that was going on at 1 o’clock in the afternoon.  I thank our neighbors for making me feel like I was in college at a football tailgate, or at a huge American festival, albeit for only a few minutes.

The main concert area... Not great planning, but what scenery!

After hanging out with our new 朋友 for a short while, we headed into the concert area to see some music and scope out the set-up.  Having been to and  worked at many festivals back home, Rachel and I were both a bit surprised to see three stages set up in a straight line, facing the same direction.  Even though this festival was in its second year, it was clear that there was still some work to be done in terms of the logistics.  Hopefully, by year three, they get the idea.  After a short laugh (笑 – xiào), we reminded ourselves that China is still very, very new at this, and we thanked our lucky stars that we were even able to enjoy such an event in the PRC.  I couldn’t help but imagine Mao himself enjoying this atmosphere by throwing up the rock hands to some raging heavy metal.

Speaking of heavy metal music (重金属音乐 – zhòng jīn shǔ yīn yuè), a majority of the bands at the InMusic Festival were just that.  Even though it was a stark contrast to the hippie-jam bands I had grown accustomed to at home, my roots in music lie with heavy metal, so I channeled my inner 8-year old and rocked the F out like I was listening to my first Metallica CD in 1996.


Taking a nap in between selling silly toys.

To take a break from the insane guitar solos and screaming vocals, we wandered around the concert grounds to see what was available for sale.  One notable difference between Chinese festivals and American festivals was the blatant presence of black-market activity within the concert area.  At American festivals (and I’m sure at European festivals, too), there is plenty of off-the-radar wheelings and dealings out in the campsite, but rarely is it present inside of the concert field.  Not the case at a Chinese festival.  People had blankets and stands set up all over the field, selling everything from shoes to glowsticks to silly masks to cowboy hats.

Shammmmm-onnnnnn---aaahhh.

While perusing the selection of albums and magazines for sale, we couldn’t help but take advantage of a photo opp. with a cut out of Michael Jackson (迈克尔杰克逊 – Mài kè ěr jié kè xùn).  You know, it’s funny… I don’t remember ever hearing his name or his music once while I was here last year, but upon returning after his death, I swear that MJ is EVERYWHERE in China.  All of a sudden, he is the favorite artist of 80% of my students, there are MJ impersonators out in the bar areas every weekend, and his songs follow you everywhere you go. One thing is clear – the man may be gone, but his music will never die.

To no surprise, we were asked to pose for pictures on numerous occasions that day, as is the ritual when you travel in China outside of the big cities.  Of course, at an event such as this, there were also plenty of stealth photographers, and we often caught people with huge zoom in lenses snapping our pictures from a distance.  I didn’t mind so much, but seeing as how Rachel was sporting her bikini top for most of the weekend, she obviously wasn’t such a big fan.  This brings me to another funny point from the weekend…

As a foreigner living in China, you notice cultural differences (文化差异 – wén huà chā yì) on a daily basis.  At this particular festival, one such difference was very clear – while Rachel soaked up the sun in her bathing suit, our Chinese neighbors chose instead to hide under umbrellas, fully clothed.  In fact, they starred at her as if she were completely naked.  In the US, many people enjoy sun-bathing in order to tan, whereas in most Asian countries people prefer to hide from the sun in order to maintain a pale complexion.  It was a funny sight, indeed – Rachel laughing at our neighbors as they hid under umbrellas in pants and coats while they laughed at her as she laid out in the sun in nothing but her bathing suit.

Having arrived at the festival with nothing but instant noodles and soju (Korean rice wine), we spent a great deal of time at the tent of a local restaurant.  These folks were clearly savvy business people, as they had both Chinese food (中餐 – zhōng cān) and Western food (西餐 – xī cān) on hand to please the masses.  Extension cords hung across the tent to set up hot pot (火锅 – huǒ guō), while deep fryers were on hand cooking up chicken nuggets (鸡块 – jī kuài).  While enjoying a snack and a brew at this tent, we ran into an Australian metal band named Psycroptic.  I’m not sure if it was the long hair, their ripped jeans, or their Iron Maiden tank tops that gave them away, but either way, people just KNEW they were a band.  Three or four Chinese guys came over to their table to present a gift of 4-12 free beers, all the while speaking zero English (the band spoke zero Chinese).  Eventually, we joined them, as we just had to get their story.  Over a table full of french fries (炸薯条 – zhà shǔ tiáo) and beer, they told us about their first (and only) few days in China, and we all shared a few funny stories.  Later on, as their speaker-shattering metal music pumped out of the sound system while Chinese fans went ape-shit, I couldn’t help but laugh while thinking about our pleasant afternoon brunch of fried potatoes and crappy Chinese beer.

Beautiful people and a beautiful sunset.

While they were very nice guys (don’t let the metal band get-up fool you), we just couldn’t get into the hardcore music, so we opted for a stroll around the concert grounds.  Everywhere I looked, I saw people letting loose, dancing, and acting a fool, which was very refreshing to me.  In a culture that is so concerned with not losing face and looking stupid in front of peers, it was nice to see a huge group of people in China just let the old worries go in favor of celebrating the beauty of rock and roll.  Being a part of the Zhang Bei Festival once again reminded me of how rapidly things are changing in China.  A country that was practically under a rock just 50 years ago is now completely ready to rock, and one need look no further than the ever expanding music festival scene in China to see this change in action.

The sun sets on old China, as music festivals begin to conquer the summer weekends, and usher in the new China.

After our ridiculously difficult journey to the Yi Xian Festival in May, you’d think we would have been turned off by the prospect of once again heading out into the middle of nowhere China for a music festival.  Well, you’d be wrong, because one late July weekend, we decided to do just that.  As is usually the case with concerts and music festivals here in China, little is done to advertise (做广告 – zuò guǎng gào) such events.  At least, if there is some sort of promotional campaign going on for live music (现场的音乐 – xiàn chǎng de yīn yuè) here, it somehow always manages to elude me.  Whereas back at home I am inundated with fliers, e-mails, posters, and facebook invites for shows on a daily basis, I have to actually seek out live music here in Beijing.  Of course, back at home there are tons of people working in music promotion, from huge companies like Live Nation to small, grass-roots marketing businesses.  Here in the Middle Kingdom, the live music business is still in its infancy, and as such there aren’t a great deal of promoters out there.  As I mentioned in my first post about festivals, another problem is that many people who do decide to put on a show or festival don’t exactly know what they’re doing to begin with.  That being said, having been in China for a total of about 1.5 years now, I can say that things are quickly improving when it comes to concerts and music festivals.

The one poster we found for the festival.

Despite the lack of proper promotion, we still managed to find out about the Zhang Bei Grasslands Music Festival (张北草原音乐节 – Zhāng běi cǎo yuán yīn yuè jié), also known as the InMusic Festival.  After doing my best to dig up some information on the festival online, I found out that this was to be the second year (第二年 – dì èr nián) of the festival.  Most of what was posted online about the festival was in Chinese, and my Chinese reading abilities are not great (不太好 – bù tài hǎo), so it took a while to translate the details.  I was able to figure out that there was going to be a direct (直达的 – zhí dá de) bus heading there from Beijing.  After the trials and tribulations of the Yi Xian trip, you could imagine my excitement.  I called the phone number (电话号码 – diàn huà hào mǎ) listed on the festival’s website, and confirmed this to be true (I had to hear it to believe it).  Although we would have loved to spend the entire weekend out there, work on Friday made that impossible.  As such, we woke up early on Saturday morning and headed to the long-distance bus station with our camping gear, hoping to catch the first bus at 9 a.m.

Of course, it wouldn’t be a weekend trip in China without some sort of travel trouble.  Despite having the name of the bus station written down in characters, as well as the phone number I had called the day before, our cab driver couldn’t find the place for the life of him.  We drove around in circles a few times, stopped to ask directions twice, and I even had my friend who was at the bus station put a worker on the phone to direct him.  What should have been a simple 10 minute ride ended up taking well over 30.  Needless to say, we missed the first bus…

We got on the next bus, and after every seat was full, we were on our way.

The bus ride should have been about two hours or so, but the roads were packed with city-dwellers heading out to the countryside (郊外 – jiāo wài) and, as such, took six instead.  At least it was a scenic ride, and it didn’t involve switching taxis multiple times as our last journey did.

Located in northern Hebei (河北 – Hé běi) province close to Inner Mongolia (内蒙古 – Nèi méng gǔ), the little town of Zhang Bei played host for the weekend.

It was so nice to get out of the city... Not a high rise building in sight!

Upon arrival, we easily scored cheap tickets from a scalper (票贩子 – piào fàn zi) for 100 RMB per day.  At about $17 US for a full day of music and camping, that’s a pretty good deal.  Heading in to set up camp, I was immediately happy with our decision.  We were greeted with a big, open field (田 – tián) and a bright, blue sky (蓝天 – lán tiān).  Far out in the countryside, Zhang Bei is more or less free of the air pollution (空气污染 – kōng qì wū rǎn) that is such a big problem in Chinese cities.  It was a breath of fresh air to be out of the Beijing smog and to have a seemingly endless grassy field to run around in.  We set up our campsite and admired the setup of our neighbors, who had lawn chairs, a table, and a cooking stove.  Of course, back at home we would normally have all of the above and then some, but riding a public bus to a festival isn’t the best way to transport a luxury campsite.

Even with our minimalist setup, we were very excited about spending the weekend out of Beijing’s ring roads.  Stay tuned for the rest of the story about our adventure out in Zhang Bei.  In the meantime, enjoy this short video that I put together that shows some of the highlights of the weekend.

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