Year: 2010

April 27. Magnificent Beijing.
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Before that we indulge in the tourist pleasures that this city has to offer (kindly note that cumulative endorphine levels during the preparation phase of a visit to the Forbidden City, the Great Wall, and other monumental reminders of this land's glorious past are way higher than during the actual visit). We see the Yonghegong lama temple, the largest, biggest, hugest, most beautiful, most fantastic, most extraordinary, most holy, wholly, solely, rock 'n rolly lamasery in town. it is a great place and manages to be an oasis of calmness in the middle of one of the loudest cities on the planet. The giant golden Buddha, hidden in one of the chambers at the rear end of the complex, is higher than a big house, and we enjoy a discreet peek.

TianMen Square. Place of a bloody massacre, the visible traces of which have ebbed away, very visibly guarded by chairman Mao's vigilant portrait at the entry of the Forbidden City. We take in the views, gaze at the ubiquitous surveillance cameras attached to every streetlight, yes we do our jobs as tourists, penetrate the forbidden city and read about its stunning 9,999 rooms, see a line in front of a small counter and turn around, like little Chinese soldiers obeying a shouted command. We've got the idea now, and what most struck me is the resemblance with Moscow and East Berlin, due to (I guess) the Russian reconstruction of Beijing. The same broad boulevards flanked by the same squared blocks of concrete state power.

So we find our way to Ba Mo's place and enjoy a friendly introduction. She also introduces us to the 798 art district, China's acclaimed focal point of studios and creativity. The art district is very large, and on our first walk around, we shoot a lot of pictures before having a bite at a Breton styled restaurant.

BeijingBill BrysonForbidden CityGreat WalllamaseryTianMenYonghegong
March 29-30. Taj Mahal.
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Finally! We visit the Taj Mahal. We have booked a tourist package and a touring bus picks us up from a metro station. We drive down to Accra and have to endure a hot day of Indian tourism before we are dumped at the gate of the Taj Mahal, where they let us in and we have about forty minutes to look around. Yeon is really enjoying the building and I'm happy to see that. It is an interesting piece of architecture indeed and it's better than the postcard. One of the world's major tourist attractions it is, and there are a lot of visitors taking their presence and their task documenting it very seriously. A sea of cameras waits patiently to capture the building.
The actual tomb inside (this is the greatest monument a man has ever erected for his deceased wife) looks beautiful, and I like the decorative flower-shaped inlays, which I study for some minutes. But we have to be quick, and jump back in the bus. We will halt a few more times on the way, and they bring us home too late, without a decent apology. Once again, converting myself into a tourist is awful.

The next day I stay at home and try to write but it seems the demon or whatever it is that has ever helped me crafting my sentences and stories, has left the building.

AcraTaj Mahal