On my final morning in Japan I lugged my bags over to Kyoto station and caught a train to Osaka Kansai airport for my late afternoon flight to China. Knowing I would soon be stuck behind the great firewall, after checking my bags my next priority was to find some free wifi and get my last fix of social media. Thankfully this turned out to be fairly easy, and I spent an hour or so making final contact with friends and making sure I had everybody’s email addresses so that I could stay in touch during my 3 weeks in China. I left it quite late to go through security, unsure as to whether there would be wifi on the other side. As my flight drew nearer I finally persuaded myself to let go of the internet and go through airport security. When I arrived at the correct security gate, liquids and tablet in hand, I discovered that they were not providing free ziplock bags for your liquids. They directed me downstairs to a drug store where I could buy one. So, rather briskly, I headed down to the shop, and bought a ziplock bag. I rushed back upstairs and across the airport to security, anxious that time was now running quite short. As I unpacked my belongings into the plastic airport security tray a chill ran down my spine. Where was my purse? I knew it had been in my hand when I first approached security. I frantically checked my bag and my pockets but it was gone. In my haste, I must have left it downstairs in the shop. So for the second time that afternoon, I dashed across Osaka airport, now panicked both due to the lack of time, and the possibility that I may never be reunited with my purse (containing many, although not all of my cards – I’m not THAT stupid!). When I got to the shop the girl, who had served me previously, looked relieved and together we ran up the escalator to the information desk where she had handed it in. I breathed a deep sigh of relief as the lady handed me back my purse. But time was now running desperately short and so I ran back over to security for the third time. Red faced and out of breath, I put my belongings into the security tray and headed through. They had a pretty good look at my e-cigarette and the spare oil I brought for it, but let me through no problems. I made it to my gate about 5 minutes before boarding. Turns out there was free wifi on the other side.

My flight to Beijing involved a stopover in Yantai, where we had to go through Chinese immigration. This was a fairly intimidating experience, but after taking a good thorough look at my passport and the visa I had pre-arranged back in London, the immigration official stamped my passport and sent me through. We then boarded the plane again to complete the final leg to Beijing.

Getting off the plane in Beijing I was immediately hit by the bitterly cold winter air. There were two buses waiting to take people to the airport terminal, and a lady at the bottom of the stairs saying something in Chinese as people got off. Hindsight tells me I should have stopped and tried to get some English out of her. I just wanted to get on the bus, though, so I picked one and got on. We arrived at baggage claim and I found the correct belt for my flight and waited for what seemed to be forever. It was at least 20 minutes before any bags started coming out. I watched and waited anxiously for my bag, as I always do since the time my baggage was lost in Honduras (not an experience I ever want to repeat). More and more bags came out but mine was nowhere to be seen. I tried to calm the panic that was rising up inside me again – it will come out soon. It will come out soon. It didn’t. The stream of bags dried up and everyone was leaving with theirs. I couldn’t believe this was happening again. I quickly found an airport employee and explained that my bag hadn’t turned up and showed her my baggage claim slip. She told me that I was in the wrong place – these bags were for people who boarded in Yantai – I needed international baggage claim. Now I realised what the two different buses were for. She pointed me to where I needed to go, and after I had convinced no less than three separate extremely skeptical and hostile airport employees to let me through, I was finally reunited with my bag. I went through customs fine and met my airport transfer who was waiting for me on the other side. I arrived at my hostel at around 10pm, exhausted, and was rewarded with a sign informing me that Cuba Libres were on offer tonight – only 1.80 each! I enjoyed one relaxing drink in the hostel bar before collapsing into my bed. (Another small reward for all my suffering – my four bed dorm was totally empty that night, and I enjoyed some rare solitude).

I had a city tour the following morning, and after a delicious American breakfast in the hostel, my adorable 24-year-old guide arrived to take me out for the day. We began with the temple of heaven, a tiered series of temples housed within concentric circular walls. It was wonderful to have a guide to explain some of the context. Throughout the temple of heaven a running theme was the hierarchical separation of Earth (and the little people) from the Emperor and from and the heavens.

Next we went to the Lama temple, a Buddhist temple very close to my hostel. It was composed of a series of temples with various different Buddha statues, culminating in the world’s largest standing Buddha. At 26 m tall, the Buddha was carved from a single tree trunk and covered in gold, a process that took over a decade to complete. It was truly spectacular.

Our final stop that day was Tienanmen Square and the Forbidden City. Getting into Tienanmen Square was quite intimidating, involving two baggage x-rays and lots of heavily armed police. It was a rather sombre affair wandering round the enormous square, my first real view of communist China. Entering the Forbidden City was a good antidote, and we spent nearly 3 hours wandering the enormous city, full of ornate buildings, beautiful statues and tales of Emperors, Concubines and War Lords. I ended my day with a walk through the park immediately North of the Forbidden City, where you could climb up and view the beautiful views of Beijing and the Forbidden city. I walked back to my hostel at around 4pm, thinking that I could get some blogging / emailing done before dinner.

I did achieve a little, however I quickly made friends with another Brit in the hostel bar who invited me out for Peking Duck. How could I say no? So three of us headed out to locate a restaurant recommended by the hostel staff, just down the street. Although the waiter spoke absolutely no English, we fumbled through and managed to order duck and beers for 3 people. When it arrived, it was a seriously impressive meal. Not just the roast duck breast and pancakes we have at home, but also an enormous broth with the duck legs in, as well as some slightly alarming sides – duck head, ribs and another unidentified body part. It was absolutely delicious. (I didn’t try the face). The pancakes were wafer thin though, and peeling a single pancake off the pile with chopsticks was quite a challenge, one which became increasingly difficult (and entertaining) as the pile grew smaller. We managed to finish almost the whole thing between the three of us, and paid just 8 pounds each (including the beer!).

The following day I had to get up painfully early (5:30am) for one of the most anticipated parts of my China trip – the Great Wall. The tour bus arrived at 6:20 to pick me up, and we drove for 3 hours to one of the less visited parts of the wall: Jinshaling. From here we had a 10km walk ahead of us. The people in my tour group were lovely, and I ended up doing most of the trek with one couple who moved from the UK to China 2 years ago. The trek was pretty hard going, up and down an awful lot of very steep, large stone steps. The older parts of the wall were somewhat run down and in places it was rather hair-raising. But the views were stunning and the wall was really beautiful. The weather was perfect- clear blue skies – and although it was very cold at first, we soon warmed up from the sunshine and exertion. Along the wall were many local women selling water, snacks, even beer – they walked up there every day to sell to the tourists – although how they made a living I have no idea; we were the only tour group there. When the wall became too treacherous, we finally admitted defeat, and with a little time to spare we sat and drank a Chinese beer on the Great Wall. It was a great day.

I also made some great friends that day. Several of us from the tour met up again that evening, went for drinks at my hostel bar, ate fantastic (and extraordinarily cheap) noodles in a nearby noodle bar, and ended up drinking long island iced teas till 2am.

I gave myself the next day as a work day, so I sat in the hostel restaurant all day working, but in the evening a few of my new-found friends and I headed out to find the famous street-food of China: scorpions, spiders, crickets, lizards, squid, baby birds, tofu, all served fried on a stick. Somehow I got up the courage to try one of the scorpions. It was OK actually – just crispy and tasted of the salty seasoning they added. Not going to make a habit of it, but, when in Rome…

My final day in Beijing I had until about 6pm to do as I pleased before I had to catch a sleeper train to Xi’an for the next leg of my trip. So I took the subway northwest up to the Summer Palace. I’d been told two things about the palace – that it was beautiful, and that it would take at least a full day to do. I didn’t really have a full day, but I decided to do it anyway. After I’d packed and checked out it was about 11am, and by the time I got there it was gone midday. I spent the afternoon exploring the parks on foot, which was wonderful but exhausting. I can imagine the parks would have been truly spectacular, but they were severely obscured by smog. Still, I enjoyed seeing some of the shrines inside, and spent a great deal of time wandering around the gardens. The summer palace gardens are mostly water, so the main problem is that getting from A to B involves getting round the various lakes. There are a few extremely steep bridges, and small boats that you can ride across some of the lakes for 15 RMB (but beware, they appear to be free until after you’ve got on and the boat has started moving, at which point they demand payment!). The parks are home to some of the oldest willow trees in Beijing, and as the sun set behind them, it was truly spectacular.

I headed back to the hostel around 5, hurriedly scribbled some post cards, and then my taxi arrived to take me to the train station for my first, and last, experience of a Chinese sleeper train.