A Good Thick Skirt

August 6-7, 2019
It is many years since I have travelled with a child, and considering that most of the time I travel alone, I have probably underestimated the impact of another person, especially one with reduced life experience.

At the airport in Edmonton, we noticed a woman with an extraordinary hairstyle – bleached to white and sticking straight up in the air…she looked just like a Q-tip. We wondered: did she do that on purpose? Did she pay for that? And, in particular, what made it stay up? We saw her again in Calgary, and it hadn’t moved, so apparently it was deliberate.

From Calgary to Edmonton we flew on a Dash 8 – it has 12 rows of seats, and we were in row 12, so we were a little worried when a man came to the back looking for row 13. He ended up sitting in the cabin attendant’s jump seat. I know the flight was oversold, but this seemed extreme. The plane was strangely grubby, both inside and out. The ceiling needed a good scrub, and the paint was peeling off the part of the wing we could see out the window. I explained to E about the rules on the plane, and she told the cabin attendant about our trip, so he gave her a handful of snacks…not bad for a flight where they only serve cold drinks!

Dinner in Calgary, and then on to Heathrow. E was much more impressed with this plane- it was big, and clean. We sat next to a young woman who was taking her 1-year old son to Kerala to see her parents. He was fascinated with my skin colour, and spend a long time stroking my arm and laughing. Because she was travelling alone, I held the baby for her when she needed to stretch, and played with him while she ate. He loved my nail polish…apparently it looked good enough to eat.

The flight was boring, which is just the way I like it.

As we landed in England, E asked me “do they speak English here?”. This led to a long conversation while I tried to explain the history of the British Empire, which in her words was “just weird.” It’s a bit challenging to explain something historical to someone whose idea of old is “older than Grandpa”. Just wait until we try to tackle the Romans.

Next stop the bathrooms, which led to taking pictures of the toilet! I have been here so often that I failed to register the squarish toilets, which, quite honestly, look like something you would take camping. Immigration was easy except for the big posters telling people that there was zero tolerance for trafficking in young people. Hard explanation – the part about kidnapping was easy, the part about why people would do it was hard. I settled on saying that they turned them into slaves, and as E says, “that’s not very nice.”

We settled on the high-speed train into London- quite expensive but a 15-minute high speed ride to Paddington Station instead of an hour on the Underground. Then a taxi to our hotel. The hotel is very English…three converted three storey houses knocked together. The elevator was like a closet (another new experience for E). We left our luggage and headed off to seek an adventure. First stop: food! We decided to walk back to Paddington Station, which was only about 8 blocks and see what we could find. McDonald’s- something familiar for a tired child. E had a Big Mac, which she said was not the same, but “quite good”.

Our next destination, The London Eye! Fortunately, it was on a line that ran to Paddington Station so we didn’t have to change. Kids under 11 ride free here, so when we went to buy our ticket, the guard said to say E was 10 — who am I to argue? And no, an Oyster card doesn’t look or smell like an oyster. Oyster card is what they call the bus/subway pass here, and you can just add more money to it. You can also just use your debit or credit card, but having to use it every time we got on or off the bus made buying an Oyster card seem safer. 5 pounds for the card, which lasts forever, and then you can just keep adding money as you need it.

The Bakerloo Line is very old. It was opened in 1906 with quite beautiful art nouveau stations, all done in tile. It is easy to see why it’s called the tube – it’s all rounded arches. The cars are from1972 (Grandma, is that a long time ago?) and when it goes around curves, it screeches like the hounds of hell. Paddington Station to Waterloo Station was a simple trip, and then we spent the afternoon wandering beside the Thames, across the river from the Houses of Parliament. Big Ben is swathed in scaffolding and tarpaulins, with only its face peering out, looking strangely like a giant toddler.

We had booked skip-the-line tickets for the London Eye, and when we went to ask for directions, the guard told us we could go in, even though we were about 2 hours early. This was great, because we were both getting a little tired. It was definitely worth paying to skip the line – something that I have never done before. The line doubled back on itself several times, and was long and slow. E was happy to skip the line – she was worried that we would fall asleep while we were on the London Eye. It was great, a view both ways up the Thames, over Buckingham Palace, Tower Bridge and the Houses of Parliament. It takes about 30 minutes to go around, and the biggest excitement was jumping on and off, because it doesn’t stop.
Then ice cream.

We decided to picnic in our room for supper, so we found a Marks and Spencer grocery store, which was featuring an LGBT sandwich (lettuce, guacamole, bacon and tomato) in honour of pride month. Then I had to explain what pride month was to the interest of the couple standing behind us in line. Back to Paddington Station, and then we planned to take a taxi back to the hotel. “Oh no love,” the taxi driver said, “it’s only two blocks.” And so it was! Our 8-block walk from hotel to station was evidently the long way around.

Shower, laundry, dinner and then, next thing I knew she was asleep. And then so was I. All good except now it’s midnight and we’re both wide awake.

Eunsol and I are leaving for England and France on Tuesday.  Today the ground staff at Heathrow announced their intention to go on strike on Monday and Tuesday.  The only construction site in the world with its own airport and never-ending strikes.

November21 – Beijing

Today I went to buy a teapot.  In China they use tiny teapots that hold about one cup of water, and keep making endless cups of tea out of them.  The best ones are unglazed clay, and they can be collector’s items. I have already received one as a gift and thought it would be nice to buy a companion for it. We went to a special part of the city that is the tea area, and started looking at tea pots.  I smiled to see a store called “Tea Macrocosm” and guessed, correctly, that is was just a strange translation of Tea World.

Buying a tea pot is unlike any other shopping experience.  When you choose a place to shop, you sit down with the vendor and drink some tea.  He tells you about the tea, and the tea pots, but never anything about shopping or price.  It’s really necessary to have a translator for this part.  Gradually he shows you different tea pots.  On the table in front of his there are seven or eight tea pots and he uses one or two to make different teas to serve.  The tea cups only hold about 125 ml so there is a lot of pouring and sipping going on.

If your tea gets cold, or he wants to empty the pot, or there’s extra boiling water, he dumps it over the tea pots sitting on the table in front of him.  It turns out that none of them are for sale – they are already sold and he is “feeding” them for their new owners.  Because they are unglazed, they gradually take on the taste of the tea that is made in them and you need at least three – one for green tea, one for white tea and one for black tea, which is actually called red tea in China.  As the pots are used, they take on a lovely sheen, and this is why the owners leave them there to be used.

Gradually I started to point out tea pots that I liked – and we gradually edged into talking about price.  One of the ones that he was using to make our tea was worth $6000 US.  He said that the most expensive one that he had sold was $50,000 US but he had one in his collection that was worth $80,000.  These were clearly out of my budget, but I wanted a nice one.  He had no problem with my budget, and started bringing out items that I could afford.  The price difference depends on the artist who makes them.  If they are made by an apprentice, they are as little as $30.  As I looked at different ones, we kept drinking tea, and he told us about his trips to the provinces to meet with the artists and buy teapots.  Because each one is signed, they can be bought and sold as they increase in value, particularly if you buy early work of someone who later becomes famous.  Strangely, unlike other collectibles, they become more valuable if you use them.  They are frequently left to family members and are considered to be a valuable inheritance.

I finally settled on one, and the vendor graciously told me that I had very good taste and had made a good choice.  It is a traditional shape with a proverb carved on the side “life is tea”.  Although he tried to explain it to me, it was a little too abstract for me to grasp the meaning.  Along with my new tea pot, he gave me two sachets of the tea that I had preferred.  He had made two different teas to serve us, and although I had not said anything, he had observed that I seemed to like one more than the other.  He was right, the first one tasted like grass to me, but perhaps my palate is not well trained.

The whole purchase took between 45 minutes and an hour, with absolutely no pressure.  If I hadn’t seen one that I liked, I could just drink a couple of cups of tea and leave. It is a strangely ritualistic and gracious way to shop.  My teapot comes in a lovely little box, with a certificate of authenticity (in case I want to leave it to someone).  Altogether a successful outing.

November 20 – Beijing

Another interesting story about the Empress Cixi – reputedly when she bathed, she had four maids waiting on her.  Their job was to dry her after she washed.   They came with a great pile of towels because each towel was to only be used once.  One wipe of her body and they were to be disposed of.  I hope they were at least recycled and not just burned or something.  It’s not hard to see why there was a revolution – that makes even the most corrupt modern politician look normal.

I had dinner at Alan’s parents last night.  Their apartment is about 700 square feet and is worth about $2million US.  It is one of the largest apartments in the building – there is one this size on each floor and given and they were made available for people with senior government positions.  Alan’s parents have lived there since Alan was in high school…apartments are no longer included as part of wages.  The price is because of its excellent location – near good hospitals and schools and other important buildings.  When I left it was dark.  The hallways have only motion detector lighting so you are always walking in a pool of light with darkness behind and in front.  The walls and floor are bare concrete and footsteps echo.  There is almost no light coming through the windows because they are dirty and there are no yard lights outside.  While I was waiting for the elevator I stood still, so all of the lights went off.  It was the perfect setting for a horror movie.

Then the elevator came, the lights went on, and I was safely out of the building.

November 19 – Beijing

I have finally decided on the best choices for breakfast: steamed buns, a scoop of something green, and a glass of orange coloured liquid.  Everything else that I have tried has been unidentifiable except for the hard-boiled eggs, which are a bit grim without salt.  I had the morning clear, and it is another nice day so I set off to explore the neighbourhood.

When people buy apartments in China, particularly in older buildings they have a cage constructed outside the main window. It is made of metal bars, sometimes quite decorative, and sticks out about two feet from the building.  Many of them are used to grow plants, to dry laundry, or for storage.  Today I saw one with two chickens in it. While it might be lovely to have fresh eggs literally at your fingertips, I wonder how the people living downstairs feel about being downstream from a chicken?

Eventually I stumbled on a shopping area complete with a coffee shop, Pizza Hut and KFC.  They were all busy – capitalism is alive and well here. I did go in the coffee shop and had coffee and a ham and cheese sandwich.  It was very relaxing to eat something identifiable.  I wandered through the shopping centre and saw an amazing array of really expensive high-end goods.  The shops were very busy too, which left me wondering who was buying all this stuff.  If for no other reason, I am wondering where they store it, since living space is so cramped here.

In the afternoon I went to Beijing Normal University to teach a class. The campus looks very much as it did when I stayed there 10 years except for the addition of a coffee shop next door to where I lived, called the “Canada Café”.  The only thing Canadian about it seemed to be the maple leaf painted on the sign.  The menu had something called “mango ice cream continuous” – fortunately I had Alan with me to translate the Chinese, which actually said smooth mango ice cream…

I was really pleased when I taught the class that there were questions afterwards – when I taught here it was almost impossible to get students to ask questions.  Their English was also good enough to ask without a translator, which I find really humbling as it is a third language for many of them. Anyone from a minority likely speaks their minority language at home, Mandarin at school, and English for university.  For dinner, we went to the restaurant on campus for a very nice meal, which Winston chose based on things he thought I would like.  It was my first time eating donkey.  While it tasted fine, it was hard not to think of their cute little furry faces.

November 17 -Beijing

A day to myself.  I decided to go to see the Summer Palace, one of the UNESCO world heritage sites in Beijing.  I went outside to flag down a taxi, but apparently, I was standing in the wrong place because a man came along on a bicycle, heaved a great sigh and put down his bicycle and moved me to a better location.  He seemed friendly but exasperated…and moved me along about 10 feet, while shouting “NO STOP YELLOW”.  Eventually, through a lot of sign language and confused looks I think that I understood that taxis can’t stop where there is a yellow line.  Or something like that.

Along came the nicest taxi driver that I have had in Beijng.  He had a marvelous comb over – swirled and sprayed to glossy perfection.  He chatted the entire way to the Summer Palace, although since his English was limited to two phrases, “Summer Palace” and “OK”, I actually had no idea what he was talking about.  He pointed to many different thing and kept smiling and talking. I think he may have been pointing out attractions, because he definitely pointed to the zoo and swung his hand in front of his face like an elephant’s trunk.  This was all accompanied by the radio playing Viennese waltzes, very loudly.   We chatted and smiled at each other, and sailed across the city.

When we arrived at the Summer Palace, the fare was 43 CNY. I didn’t have the right change so I gave him a 50 CNY note.  This started a huge negotiation as he tried to give me back 10.  I declined, and wanted him to keep the 50.  He took out a piece of paper and showed me that 50-43=7 so he owed me some change.  Then he took out his wallet to show me that he didn’t have the right change.  I wanted to give him a tip for being so pleasant.  Finally, I just kept repeating the Chinese words for thank you and for OK and got out.  Considering that 7 CNY is about $1.40 Canadian, I was quite happy to tip him just for being pleasant.

It was a spectacular day to be at the Summer Palace.  About 0 and clear and brilliant sunshine.  The wind was blowing, which I have come to appreciate here because of the improvement in air quality.  There were very few tourists there, perhaps because the tourist season ends at the end of October.  There was already ice on the carp ponds and at the edges of the lake.  The palace was built so that the Emperor and Empress would have somewhere nice to go when the weather got too hot.  About 75% of it is lake, with pathways and pavilions built all around it.  There is even covered corridor designed to catch the breeze but keep the Empress out of the sun.  Clearly it was a very nice life if you were rich or royalty, but probably pretty brutal if you weren’t.  Much of it was burned in 1860 by the Anglo-French Allied Forces, but was rebuilt by 1886 in time for the Empress Cixi’s birthday.  She paid for the reconstruction by diverting funds from the navy because she needed some entertainment.

I’ve been here before, but in the summer time.  This time I was determined to climb up the Tower of the Fragrance of Buddha.  According to the description, it is only 41 metres high, so it didn’t seem too daunting.  Then it turned out that the 41 metres doesn’t start at the bottom…that is just the tower part after you climb up about 200 steps to the bottom.  Fortunately, it wasn’t too crowded and I laboured my way up and up and up.  It was interesting to watch everyone else climb up as well.  Many of the older people just walked up, and it seemed that the younger adults struggled more.  Perhaps it reflects the difference that a lifetime of walking and biking everywhere has made.

The view from the top was worth it.  Because the day was clear, you could see right across Beijing to the mountains, something I’ve never been able to see before because of the smog.  I was proud of myself for climbing up, but then I had to climb down.  The Empress Cixi didn’t have to climb…she was carried.  The climb down was actually a bit scary.  The stairs are really steep and without an handrail.  150 years of people climbing up and down have worn them into irregular shapes, and they weren’t that even to begin with.  I could only imagine tripping and rolling to the bottom.

There is also a three-storey theatre built to entertain the Empress with Chinese opera.  She sat on a couch in a pavilion directly in front of the stage.  Around the sides are little rooms where her invited guests were able too sit to enjoy the show. The stage has underground water and many secret stairs so that the shows could be amazing.  The Empress seems to have been easily bored, and this whole theatre was built for her entertainment.  When you see her couch compared to the wooden chairs offered to guests, it’s clear that in her mind there was only one important person in the audience.  Some of the guest areas are so tucked around to the side that people sitting there would be barely able to even see the stage…but who would you complain to?

Strangely, today I had a great cup of coffee.  I stopped in a little tourist shop to get warm, and the lady offered me coffee.  It naturally came with cream (or more likely whitener) and sugar but it was hot and actually tasted like coffee.  It also cost $5 but it was worth it to get warm.

November 17 – Beijing

Breakfast this morning was a leisurely affair since I am almost finished with my conference obligations.  This hotel clearly caters to a different clientele.  They even had coffee…not very good, and strong enough to peel paint, but still good.  They also had fresh fruit and toast so I had a lovely, familiar breakfast.

After breakfast, Alan came to pick me up.  He took me to his parents’ apartment, which turned out to be on the other side of the parking lot from my first hotel.  They have lived there for about 20 years. It is very hard to judge things here – the corridors of the building are very tired looking: grubby and needing paint, with lots of burned out lightbulbs, but the inside of the apartment looks very normal.  Clearly the standards about what is important are different.

Then he took me to his office.  It was a former government building that is still owned by the government but leased out to tenants.  It is in a good section of Beijing, but all of the buildings look remarkably similar. Alan explained that all of the buildings were built by Russians in the time of Stalin, which is why this area looks like parts of Eastern Europe.  I can only conclude that the Stalinists only had one architect and he either hated people or wasn’t very good.  They have taken functionalism to an extreme – grey, square, and with no decoration.  Their only concession to style is that they all have huge open areas on the main floor as you come into the building.  Now these spaces sit empty, but I wonder if they had a purpose in a Soviet world?

In exchange for paying our travel costs, the sponsor wanted to interview us.  They maintain a database of interviews with librarians from all over the world that is available to any library that is one of their customers.  Apparently, it is very popular, both with students and with practicing librarians.  Our interview was scheduled for five, and was to include me and a Chinese-American librarian who was acting as an interpreter for me.  At five we appeared at the library to meet them, and they were fretting because they didn’t like the walls as a background for the interview.  After a great deal of animated conversation, all in Chinese, it appeared that we were to go back to the hotel and conduct the interview there.

At the hotel, they decided to use the Chinese-American librarian’s room.  While we stood around waiting, they rearranged all of the furniture in his room, to give a better background. This involved calling down to the desk and asking for another armchair, which was promptly delivered by two very small women.  More furniture rearranging followed, and the lights were set up by the videographer. Then it seemed like a good idea to have dinner before the interview, so we all went down to the restaurant.

In many Chinese restaurants, when you are entertaining guests, you are able to book a small room with a table and a private bathroom.  Depending on the restaurant, these are different sizes and some of them are very elegantly decorated.  This one had lovely carved wood panelling, and elegantly carved chairs.  There were softly lit shelves on two sides with some excellent pieces of pottery.  As we ate, the managing the director and the videographer were carrying on a side conversation, which resulted in the decision to conduct the interviews in the dining room.  When we had finished eating (along with another glaring fish), they rearranged the furniture so that we would have the carved wood panelling behind us.

This all took so long that they didn’t have enough time left for the interviews before the restaurant closed.  Instead of two, one-hour interviews, they filmed about 35 minutes of two of us chatting.  They didn’t seem worried and it didn’t seem like my problem.  Afterwards, the Americans were going bar-hopping and perhaps for the first time in my life, I decided that bed was a better option.  All I needed to do was get a taxi back to the original hotel, where I am staying for the rest of my time in Beijing.

The reason for all of this back and forth between hotels is that, except for the two days of conference, I am paying for this myself, and would rather spend the money on something other than fancy hotels.  There were lots of taxis outside.  Hotels here give you a little map showing where they are located, and all you need to do is show it to a taxi driver and they know where to take you, even if you don’t speak Chinese.  Unfortunately, the first two taxi drivers didn’t want to take me…I’ve been told it’s because they would rather take people to the airport or somewhere far, and can’t be bothered with shorter trips.  It has apparently become so bad here that a car company that is like Uber is making great headway…one of the outcomes of the growth of capitalism.  Eventually I found a taxi driver and made it home safely.

November 16 – Beijing

Today was the real conference.  In true Chinese fashion, all of the honoured guests sit in the front row of the auditorium, so there I was, perched between the Vice-President of the university and someone from the government.  Unfortunately. this means that the translators sit in the second row, behind the person they are responsible for, so there is no opportunity to ask them what is going on.  So there is no confusion, the names of the honoured guests are taped to the back of the chairs…everyone’s name in Chinese and mine in English.

After the many greetings that are required for the opening ceremonies, I did my keynote speech, which was well-received (or at least politely received, it is sometimes difficult to tell in a culture where it is considered rude to question a speaker).  Then I got to listen to people speak in Chinese for the rest of the day…it’s a good way to learn poker face, since there are photographers who constantly take pictures of all of the important people, frequently popping up right in your face.  It wouldn’t do to be caught on film napping.

Lunch was provided in plastic bags.  Each has several plastic boxes in it, and a banana.  One of the boxes had soup, one had enough rice to feed two or three people, one had two kinds of green things in it, and one had two kinds of meat like things in it.  I was fascinated to see that the other people at my table ate everything – I’m not really clear why they don’t all weigh 900 pounds, but in fact I have seen very few fat adults here.  The wrap up speech was delivered by the Chief Librarian from the University of Hiroshima- even more interesting than watching someone speak in Chinese, is watching someone speak in Japanese that is then translated into Chinese.  I had no idea what he was talking about, but he had some nice pictures of his library.

November 15 – Beijing

Another try at breakfast this morning.  Today I had steamed buns with something chopped up and green inside them. One of the things that I have learned about eating in China is that if it’s green it’s probably some kind of vegetable and not too surprising…if it’s red it’s probably covered in chili oil and may cause blisters.

Walked around a residential neighbourhood – it’s another clear sunny day with excellent air quality.  I’ve been here two days and I haven’t started to cough and my hair hasn’t turned yellow.  I’m not sure if the government has done something to clear the air, literally or figuratively, or if it’s just because it’s so windy.  Whatever the cause is, it’s a chance to see Beijing in a whole new light.  I        have seen lots of older people walking dogs.  I’d like to propose a new economic index – the dog index – as it’s my observation that when people have pet dogs they have a little spare money.  Most of these ones are wearing sweaters or coats, and look loved and well fed.  I wonder if the Economist would be interested in my Dog Index?

Alan’s dad came and took me to the conference hotel, again without a word of English.  I left my big suitcase behind as I’ll be moving back to this hotel in a couple of days.  It has all been arranged without any input from me except for smiling…it pays to be trusting.  The conference hotel is a 4 star tourist hotel – in China the stars are awarded by the government.  In theory, they are able to greet visitors, but when I arrived it appeared that no-one spoke English and they couldn’t find my reservation.  I applied my “get what you want in a foreign country” technique and simply sat and smiled at them until they solved the problem.  Since I was in their way, they were highly motivated to sort it.  Eventually they found my reservation under “Law” and with a great deal of smiling gave me a room key.  The room is quite deluxe.

I decided to eat lunch in the hotel before meeting my colleagues…but I had to order from the pictures in the menu.  I had some really good fried dumplings (think perogies with ground meat and vegetables) but accidentally ended up with a jug of fresh pear juice when I expected a glass.  Oh well…time to figure out the character for small.  I’m not clear how one person eats in a Chinese restaurant, since every plate seems to be enough for sharing – if I had ordered vegetables as well I would have had enough food for an army.  It’s interesting that we consider rice to be an essential part of a Chinese meal – I haven’t seen any since I got here.

The company that sponsored the conference took invited the international guests out for dinner. It included me, and 4 Americans, along with a couple of Chinese colleagues who had agreed to act as translators.  They took us to see a bridge that was built in 1190 or so, and then repaired in about 1698.  In 1949 the new Communist government paved it, and about 40 years ago the pavement was removed and it was repaired. It is made of granite and has eleven arches.  It is still in daily use.  All along the bridge are carvings of lions, some in very bad states but some still very clear.  Each one is different.  We arrived there just as the sun was going down and it will beautiful.   Marco Polo used this bridge and mentioned it in his travel writing as “a very fine stone bridge.  So fine indeed that it has very few equals in the world“. It is the site of the battle between the Chinese and Japanese that started the second Sino-Japanese war.

At the other end of the bridge is an ancient fortress, Wanping built about 1840 to defend Beijing against the peasants’ uprising .  The founder of the company is a poet, and he bought property here when he was young and it was virtually worthless.  Over time he restored the buildings that he purchased and now, with the rising prices of property in Beijing he is a millionaire many times over. The salesman tried to explain the value of the land to us, but since he was quoting in Chinese currency for an area that we didn’t understand – by the time we had calculate it into square metres and US dollars we had entirely lost track of the zeroes.

His company has their head office in this wonderful restored building, and their branch office in Philadelphia.  They also have a restaurant, but only people who are guests of the company can use it.  The space is a series of small buildings with intertwining courtyards, decorated with traditional and modern Chinese art.  When we arrived at the restaurant, we were each presented with a statue of a character from traditional Chinese opera.  They really made us feel like honoured guests.

The meal was fascinating.  The food was good but the presentation was outstanding.  Skewers of shrimp were served standing up in a wooden model of a warship…each skewer had a little conical hat made of pumpkin as they represented soldiers.  The boat was sitting in large bowl of dried ice so mist rolled across the table as the boat made its way from person to person on the middle rotating section of the table.  This was followed by a tree full of little nests – each nest was full of little cubes of fried tofu.  The branches of the tree also had little mechanical birds resting in them and whenever the tree was touched, the birds started flapping their wings and tails and cheeping.  It didn’t really seem important how good the food was.

There always seems to be a fish involved in a Chinese dinner…and they are always served complete with their beady little eyes staring at the guests.  Apparently, this is a symbol that at the end of the year there will always be something left, meaning that it represents prosperity.  It the ultimate in bad manners to turn the fish over when you are helping yourself, that will reverse the good fortune due to the diners by the presence of the fish.  This one looked like some kind of catfish as it lay there eyeballing me.

November14- Beijing

Breakfast is provided at the hotel, but, because it’s not a tourist hotel, there is no indication of what the food is.  I followed someone along the buffet line and took what they took.  I recognized the steamed buns and the hardboiled eggs, nothing else.  I was hungry enough to eat most of it.  The only things to drink were hot milk, and a hot orange coloured vaguely sweet drink.  Since I don’t like hot milk, I had the orange drink.

I took a taxi and went to Wangfujing Street, which is a famous market street. Many years ago I had a suit made here and I wanted to go back to the same tailor and get a coat.  In spite of many changes along the street, I was able to find the store, and to my surprise, they still had a file on me!  The coat is a little expensive, but a lovely combination of cashmere and wool.  Back next week for a fitting and it will be done 3 days before I leave.

It was a spectacular day – clear blue skies and no pollution.  Perhaps because it is very windy?  It was a fabulous day for walking, about 3 degrees and windy.  The sun was shining and there was even an occasional bird making bird noises in the trees.  Although people here think it is very cold, and are bundled in various puffy garments, the leaves are still on the trees.

The biggest change that I notice compared with previous visits to Beijing is how many fewer bicycles there are.  When I have been here before, it was difficult to cross the street because of the tide of cyclists bearing down from all directions.  Now there is a relative trickle.  There are more scooters and motorcycles, but not nearly as many as there were bicycles.  I wonder what the change is?  More cars? More public transit?  It’s certainly not because of less people.

Many people on scooters have a quilt with sleeves in that they use to protect themselves from the cold. It seems to work by draping it over your chest and the front of your legs, and then putting your arms in the sleeves to drive the motorcycle or bicycle.  It made me smile to see a well-dressed elderly gentleman progressing down the street draped in his Hello Kitty quilt.