beijing bicycle
If there was one thing that would've been non-negotiable about our trip was that ayun and I had to spend at least one day riding bikes -- because, you know, that's us. That got even more apparent after we arrived and found that Time Out Beijing was running a Bicycle Special issue with features on suggested bike routes and riding tips all served up to us on a silver platter. It is, after all, Beijing and navigating around by bikes here has been almost as iconic as gondolas in Venice. Once. A long time ago. Though, in some ways, it still is.
Our hotelier is a relatively young ex-computer programmer with hip hair and an easy manner. He bought the courtyard house that had become his hotel a few years ago, and he was both desk clerk, room service, concierge and security guy. His list of services were vaguely written and ultimately negotiable, so when we asked if he could rent us bikes he said that wouldn't be a problem without telling us what kind of bikes he could actually provide. Instead, he showed up the following morning with a modest folding bike for ayun and asked me to follow him into the neighborhood, where he walked up to a 3-speed that was locked to a post in front of a neighbor's house, pulled out a key from his pocket, popped the lock and gave me both the bike and the lock and said, "for you."
Wait, dude, did you just give me your neighbor's bike? Is that ok? Yes, because ... China. In this country you quickly learn not to ask too many questions, because the answer usually is 'because China'.
The morning had started with riding out to Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City before following one of the Time Out itineraries that guided us north into the hutongs of Dongsi then over to the streets that ringed the lakes of Houhai. The hutongs are the old warrens of Beijing, marked with tight and twisty alleys crowded with laundry, street restaurants and children without pants. It would be a nightmare to navigate these neighborhoods by car, impossible by bus, but they're perfect for a bike.
We'd stop to have lunch on a restaurant patio, while captive pigeons cooed beside us, and to take pictures of rickshaw pedicabs idling in the afternoon sun. We rolled past parks with flinty old men doing ridiculous pull ups and friends pedal boating around azure waters glittering underneath clear blue skies. We joined the mobile crowd of a dozen cyclists pedaling along their commute and listened bemusedly as two schoolchildren, sitting on the backs of their mom's bicycles would have some animated conversation while passing candies back and forth to each other.
It was later in our stay in Beijing that we had stopped by Serk, a bike shop / bar /cafe near Beixingqiao for a drink, and wound up hanging out with one of the founders and started nerding out on biking in different cities.
"Oh, you've ridden in Melbourne? I was there earlier this year. It's ok, but those tram tracks ..."
"... the thing that I loved about biking in Amsterdam ..."
"... that reminded me of trying the Bixi in Montreal ..."
in the midst of that, I had asked our hostess about how Beijing stacked up as a place to ride in China; and she didn't even have to think about it.
"oh, this is the best city to ride in China.
"really? even with the traffic?"
"well, the bike lanes help a lot, but you also have to remember that every Beijinger grew up riding a bicycle. So even if they're driving a BMW right now, they remember what it's like to be on a bike, and they know how to look for them."
I had to admit that she was probably right. We did not ride with helmets and while that, in Boston, would've made me nervous; we never encountered anything like a close call while in Beijing. For all of the crowd and congestion and vague traffic rules, riding in the city was actually really fun. She asked, "so what are drivers in Boston like? They must be more orderly than here."
"Oh, God, no. Boston drivers behave like Chinese people when they're queueing for the metro. Which is to say that they don't behave. Everyone's out for themselves, and you either have to be super assertive and fight for your space or you just get shoved to the side. It's fine once you get used to it, but it can be intimidating at first."
Our hostess was astonished. Though, I don't know if that was because it dispelled this idea of the US being a magically orderly land or if my description was a little too pell-mell for her to comprehend. Still, it's been concurrently interesting to see a new surge of bike acquisitions amongst my friends. Between the advent of bike share, house moves and gas prices, there's a new interest in getting around by bikes, and if having a past history as a cyclist makes one a more courteous driver then also perhaps having a past history as a driver will cut down on some of the scofflaw shenanigans that have been the stereotypical lot of the cyclist. Two cities coming at transportation from opposite starting points but drifting towards somewhere in common.
On the end of that first full day in Beijing, we went south past Tiananmen, to lock up our bikes outside a teahouse before taking in some Peking opera, then roamed into night markets with scorpions on sticks and drag queen stage singers. We wrapped it all up with German beers on Ghost Street, a long stretch of bars and restaurants lit up with paper lanterns glowing in a cool late summer evening.
It's still exhausting to think of it now, to remember how it started with the Forbidden City and included all of this stuff, but that's one of the beauties of exploring by bike -- faster than walking, more intimate than a taxi, more flexible than the metro, leaving you with memories of the scent of blossoms wafting across lakes, the sight of smiles from children at play and the sound of a friend laughing at jokes you yell over each other's shoulders.