Landing in Beijing and roaming the roads by taxi was a surreal experience. It was midday yet the city seemed to be standing still. I expected hustle and bustle, pollution, and noise but was greeted with a calm breeze. A haze did hover over the city but it was the humidity and lush air that stood out even more. My pores drank up every ounce not caring how polluted it was.
I arrived at my hotel and hijacked the room of my new travel companions while they were out seeing the sights. A cup of tea in a hot shower never treated me so well. I soon met my new friends and we hit the alleyways of Beijing to dine on the famous Peking Duck.
Our group of seven was escorted to the upstairs of a bustling restaurant and given our own room with a circular table and grand lazy susan. As planned, we ordered (transmitted by cell phone to the kitchen) two Peking ducks, snowpeas, steamed pumpkin, mushrooms, and a tasty marinated beef dish. Just as I had been warned, it was better than any American version of Chinese cuisine.
My sealegs dragged me back to the hotel while my Washington counterparts stocked up on booze for the train ride awaiting us in the morning.
