congealed pig's blood...not a new fave

In the morning, Frederik went to visit the Wall at Badaling, Dennis relaxed and Rodrigo and I made a mad dash for Mao’s mausoleum. We thought we arrived too late and were taking photos in the square while being accosted by a little girl selling flags when we noticed a line forming on the other side of the building. When we ran over, the guards were shouting that it was the last group going in and that no bags or cameras were permitted. Rodrigo quickly tossed me his stuff and snuck into the lineup. I got some great photos of him confusedly following the crowds, then of a lady who was about two minutes too late and tried to get past the guards. Wow – they’re pretty fast when they want to be.
Dennis and Rodrigo left for Chengdu, and I stayed in town an extra day for exploring while the bellboy prepared my flight ticket. I decided not to go to Tibet alone, as everyone was worrying about me, and I was starting to get Beijing-lung. Left to my devices, I went wandering around Xidan, which is a lot like Mong Kok, ate a veggie crepe and used the business centre of a high-end hotel. During my time in Hong Kong, I developed a hobby of using 5-star hotel washrooms when out and about instead of public restrooms. Much cleaner and more interesting… So far, in HK, the best washroom is the top floor of the Peninsula – no surprise there. My hobby came in handy in china, where public washrooms are just plain scary. Ugh. I decided to have some lunch at a pretty little teashop, where the waitress convinced me to try a set meal with soup, dumplings and tea. I didn’t completely know what I was ordering and it was a bit of a nightmare when my soup arrived and appeared to be composed of big colon and liver. Even more of a nightmare when Dennis later explained that the “liver” was actually congealed pig blood, cut up into cakes. Ugh.
After I recovered from that ordeal, Frederik and I went to the Silk market for jeans and gifts. It was just like Shenzhen, but again, they called me “lady” instead of “missy”. Bargained like crazy, got some good deals, ate some pizza and then realized that Frederik’s ticket back to Hong Kong was missing. Never did find it… but did find out where the expats go out in Beijing. We went to a club/lounge named ‘The World of Suzie Wong” after the book. The name piqued my interest ‘cause Wanchai in Hong Kong is still called the Suzie Wong district…. In the end, I bought the book on the way to Japan, just to find out what all the fuss was about.