China has a lot of people?
I had promised Grace that I would go visit her before she went back to the States in the midst of the October National Holiday. Last year during this time, I had stayed in Shanghai at the recommendation of my co-workers, who had informed me that traveling during one of China's three annual holidays would result in me disappearing in a sea of Chinese travelers, never to be heard from again. By the time they realized this would be a convenient way for me to stop annoying them for snacks every fifteen minutes, I had already heeded their advice and set up camp at home with my 2 million DVDs.
This year, with Grace about to leave and with me realizing that I should get out of town for an experience other than pounding glasses of (fill in the blank), I recalled the joi d'vivre I had for traveling and headed up to Beijing (pics here) and Qingdao with Clint, where we met up Steve and immediately started pounding glasses of (fill in the blank).
Beijing is different from Shanghai in that everything is just so much bigger. The city has a regulation that doesn't allow developers to build buildings higher than a certain height. They compensate by making them wider and fatter, so that the cityscape is dotted with these huge blocks of malls and office buildings that would probably take an entire day to navigate through. This works out for me since I'm so much bigger than all the other people too, so in Beijing when I start break-dancing I usually end up kicking fewer people in the head than when I do it in Shanghai.
Both Clint and I had done the usual tourist things in Beijing, and the poor guy was recovering from a nasty bout of flu, so our pace was fairly slow as we moved from buying shirts at the fake market to getting stalked by touts at Hou Hai who wanted us to go to their shady bars and pay for girls to drink with us. Of course, being the morally upstanding citizen that I am, I forefully lashed out at them and told them to leave my friends alone, they simply weren't interested in such dodgy activities. Then I handed my new shirts to Clint and went with them by myself.
It was of course good to see Grace again, who has a huge cadre of gorgeous and fascinating Beijing friends from a spectrum of backgrounds. Friday night was spent at Vic's, which is much like the Guandii of Beijing in that everyone who likes hip hop and beautiful people go there. Many of her friends came to say farewell to her, and of course didn't stay very long because they ran into me and my "let me grab your ass instead of shake your hand" greeting that, come to think of it, doesn't work too well back in Shanghai either.
Chairman Grace and her Party Officials...I feel so clever for making that up just now
After we had somewhat recovered from our night out, Steve took us to Da Shan Zi (大山子), a hidden but getting-more-trendy enclave for contemporary art galleries and exhibits. I've been known to dabble in art circles on occasion, but there were no porno clubs at Da Shan Zi, so I knew we were talking about a different type of art compared to what I had studied (quite voraciously) in the past. Clint, being of the artistic ilk, seemed to be able to tame his sore throat enough to really enjoy himself. We saw lots of fascinating stuff, including a big foam tank that we had to wade through to get to the other side of the exhibit, a metal dinosaur that orgasmed every few minutes, and scores and scores of awesome photographs and paintings. I felt particularly connected to a ceramic panda in the gallery at which Steve's friend Ling worked, but when I found out it would set me back $15k USD, I had no choice but to scream out "If I can't have it, no one will!" and then smash the piece to the ground. Of course, this was BEFORE Ling told me that there were about twenty other ones floating out in the world somewhere, with four of them being in some collector's house in Paris. I guess France is where I'll be going for my next trip, sledgehammer in tow.
Eric on art: I don't get it, but I like it
Another highlight of the trip was seeing Angela again, washer of my underwear and mopper of my floors. She was luminous in her own element, and after Grace left and we found out from Clare that we would have to stay in Beijing an extra night since she couldn't secure us train tickets to Qingdao on Sunday, Angela played the gracious host by taking us to hot pot and then DVD shopping, which is kind of like having Jessica Alba play video games with you for an afternoon, then stripping you down and spanking you afterwards. Well, no, not quite, but I thought I should highlight the joy of the lethal combination of one's two favorite activities.
Clint on hot pot: I don't get it, but I like it
The surprising part of our trip to Beijing was just how empty it was. According to some reports, Shanghai was expecting up to 80 million people (!!!!) during the October holiday, so Steve and Clint and myself were happy to discover that, at least at the places we visited, there really weren't huge crowds anywhere. We assumed that the Great Wall and the Forbidden City would be crawling with folks, so maybe that's where all the action was. Suffice it to say that at Da Shan Zi and Hou Hai, you really wouldn't think that China had that many people. Now, of course, I've jinxed myself and will had to wade through oceans of people when I head outside later to urinate on the Bund.
All in all, Beijing has turned into a place where I wouldn't mind visiting every couple of months, just to see friends and enjoy the more idiosyncratic pleasures that it has to offer. Shanghai's good for pounding glasses of (fill in the blank) at swank clubs, but for a wider range of entertainments in China, Beijing can't really be beat. Sometimes, big and short and fat can be a whole lot more satisfying than tall and thin and empty. Sometimes.
This year, with Grace about to leave and with me realizing that I should get out of town for an experience other than pounding glasses of (fill in the blank), I recalled the joi d'vivre I had for traveling and headed up to Beijing (pics here) and Qingdao with Clint, where we met up Steve and immediately started pounding glasses of (fill in the blank).
Beijing is different from Shanghai in that everything is just so much bigger. The city has a regulation that doesn't allow developers to build buildings higher than a certain height. They compensate by making them wider and fatter, so that the cityscape is dotted with these huge blocks of malls and office buildings that would probably take an entire day to navigate through. This works out for me since I'm so much bigger than all the other people too, so in Beijing when I start break-dancing I usually end up kicking fewer people in the head than when I do it in Shanghai.
Both Clint and I had done the usual tourist things in Beijing, and the poor guy was recovering from a nasty bout of flu, so our pace was fairly slow as we moved from buying shirts at the fake market to getting stalked by touts at Hou Hai who wanted us to go to their shady bars and pay for girls to drink with us. Of course, being the morally upstanding citizen that I am, I forefully lashed out at them and told them to leave my friends alone, they simply weren't interested in such dodgy activities. Then I handed my new shirts to Clint and went with them by myself.
It was of course good to see Grace again, who has a huge cadre of gorgeous and fascinating Beijing friends from a spectrum of backgrounds. Friday night was spent at Vic's, which is much like the Guandii of Beijing in that everyone who likes hip hop and beautiful people go there. Many of her friends came to say farewell to her, and of course didn't stay very long because they ran into me and my "let me grab your ass instead of shake your hand" greeting that, come to think of it, doesn't work too well back in Shanghai either.
Chairman Grace and her Party Officials...I feel so clever for making that up just now
After we had somewhat recovered from our night out, Steve took us to Da Shan Zi (大山子), a hidden but getting-more-trendy enclave for contemporary art galleries and exhibits. I've been known to dabble in art circles on occasion, but there were no porno clubs at Da Shan Zi, so I knew we were talking about a different type of art compared to what I had studied (quite voraciously) in the past. Clint, being of the artistic ilk, seemed to be able to tame his sore throat enough to really enjoy himself. We saw lots of fascinating stuff, including a big foam tank that we had to wade through to get to the other side of the exhibit, a metal dinosaur that orgasmed every few minutes, and scores and scores of awesome photographs and paintings. I felt particularly connected to a ceramic panda in the gallery at which Steve's friend Ling worked, but when I found out it would set me back $15k USD, I had no choice but to scream out "If I can't have it, no one will!" and then smash the piece to the ground. Of course, this was BEFORE Ling told me that there were about twenty other ones floating out in the world somewhere, with four of them being in some collector's house in Paris. I guess France is where I'll be going for my next trip, sledgehammer in tow.
Eric on art: I don't get it, but I like it
Another highlight of the trip was seeing Angela again, washer of my underwear and mopper of my floors. She was luminous in her own element, and after Grace left and we found out from Clare that we would have to stay in Beijing an extra night since she couldn't secure us train tickets to Qingdao on Sunday, Angela played the gracious host by taking us to hot pot and then DVD shopping, which is kind of like having Jessica Alba play video games with you for an afternoon, then stripping you down and spanking you afterwards. Well, no, not quite, but I thought I should highlight the joy of the lethal combination of one's two favorite activities.
Clint on hot pot: I don't get it, but I like it
The surprising part of our trip to Beijing was just how empty it was. According to some reports, Shanghai was expecting up to 80 million people (!!!!) during the October holiday, so Steve and Clint and myself were happy to discover that, at least at the places we visited, there really weren't huge crowds anywhere. We assumed that the Great Wall and the Forbidden City would be crawling with folks, so maybe that's where all the action was. Suffice it to say that at Da Shan Zi and Hou Hai, you really wouldn't think that China had that many people. Now, of course, I've jinxed myself and will had to wade through oceans of people when I head outside later to urinate on the Bund.
All in all, Beijing has turned into a place where I wouldn't mind visiting every couple of months, just to see friends and enjoy the more idiosyncratic pleasures that it has to offer. Shanghai's good for pounding glasses of (fill in the blank) at swank clubs, but for a wider range of entertainments in China, Beijing can't really be beat. Sometimes, big and short and fat can be a whole lot more satisfying than tall and thin and empty. Sometimes.
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