Summer Palace In Spring On the first really perfect Sunday this April, Gail and I headed off to the Summer Palace, where the emperors of the Qing Dynasty used to play. I've always thought this the most beautiful spot in Beijing, and I wanted to see the park and lake in all its spring finery. The first thing that usually happens to me when I head off to the Summer Palace, happened yet again: I got hopelessly lost. It was a blow to my ego, since I'm beginning to consider myself an Old China Hand who knows where things are. From the university where we live, there is a way to arrive by public transportation at the extreme northwestern edge of the city where the Summer Palace is located. Gail and I studied our maps, we plotted our course, we changed buses three times -- and we got so muddled somewhere in the Haidian district that I finally gave up and hailed a taxi. (Which is what I should have done in the first place.) But at last we arrived, and it looked as if the rest of Beijing had the same idea we did. All the trees and shrubs were in their first bloom. The lake was blue and languid, full of little paddle boats, and the paths were crowded with strolling families and romantic couples. Everywhere you looked, people were pointing cameras and taking pictures of one another. Many of the younger women posed delicately amongst the pink blossoms, looking very poetic and dreamy as their boyfriends snapped away. There were so many photographers that you had to stop every few feet and wait politely so as not to get in someone's frame. But after a while, if you wanted to cover any ground, you had to get ruthless and smile apologetically as you continued on in front of someone's lens. I can imagine the surprise in many a Chinese family when their film comes back from the developer and they find a rather large, hairy foreigner has been immortalized in their color print. So it was a good thing I had shaved, which is not always the case with me on the weekend. Beijing people dress up for their Sunday outings, unlike us foreigners who tend to dress down and be great slobs when we head off for a day in the park. The Chinese women are especially elegant in their fashionable skirts and sweaters and city shoes with raised heels that don't look entirely comfortable as they stumble along the uneven paths. The men, for their part, tend to keep one hand to their ear, speaking to distant voices on their cell phones. As for the children, they run and shout and pee a good deal in the bushes. It is quite a parade.
Most of the palace buildings are on a steep hill to the north of the lake. There are temples and reception halls and residential areas that all have wonderful names: The Benevolence and Longevity Hall, the Precious Clouds Pavilion, the Sea of Wisdom Temple. It's difficult to look at all this imperial splendor without thinking of the astonishing inequality of wealth in ancient China. The Summer Palace, after all, is only a few kilometers from the Forbidden City and the various lakes and imperial gardens of what is now Behai Park. Not that it was always a picnic, of course, for the emperor and his family. Nearly all the buildings of the Summer Palace were burned down in 1860 by a joint Anglo-French army, and have been restored. In 1888, the Empress Dowager Cixi rather unwisely used the money she had raised to create a modern navy, to rebuild the Summer Palace instead. Her lovely marble pleasure boat -- the Boat of Purity and Ease -- was as close as the country got to its navy. One senses in this anecdote something of the moribund state of the Qing Dynasty that made it such a sitting duck for the Western powers. Gail and I walked up and down the steep hillside more than once, just to make sure we didn't miss anything. Most of the old buildings are locked. You can only peer inside through musty glass to see the faded interiors and try to imagine what it must have been like to live here a hundred years ago. But the buildings are very evocative with their ornately sculptured roofs, and there are wonderful views from the hillside down to the lake below and the surrounding hills. Chinese history is endlessly fascinating, but probably the best part of a visit to the Summer Palace is simply strolling through the park. In the late afternoon, Gail and I returned to the lake and walked along the narrow promontory of land that juts out into the lake, a path that leads over high arching bridges and past a series of small pavilions where you can stop and sit. As we walked, the weather changed. The sky turned dark and the wind began to blow. Waves came up on the lake and even crashed against the shore. For a moment, it looked as if there was going to be thunder and lightening and heavy rain, and all the little paddle boats on the lake scurried towards shore. It was dramatic, something that can't be often said about Beijing weather. The perfect ending to a Sunday in the park. Next week: "The Free Maverick Cafe" From the Editor in Chief: If you have some travel or work experience in China to share with us, we will be very excited to hear from you! Send your feedback by e-mail or regular mail to ASM Overseas Corporation. Thank you! And if you liked this column, please check Expats In China (International Community in China) for more interesting and useful information on life in China as a foreigner, including calendar of events, entertainment, housing, employment, classifieds, personal, etc. |
(Left: Gail in "The Long Corridor" at the Summer Palace)