A Short Stay in the Beijing Hutongs
- Cathy@zusetsu
- Jun 19
- 9 min read
Updated: Jun 23
The evening river is level and motionless-
The spring colours just open to their full.
Suddenly a wave carries the moon away
And the tidal water comes with its freight of stars.
It's been several days since we returned home from Beijing, and I can't get the city out of my mind, it made such a deep impression!
I think staying in the old lanes (the hutongs) just north of the Forbidden City really helped me fall in love with Beijing - tipping out into the ancient dusty streets in the early morning felt like falling into an old tale.
The past seemed very present - it was easy for the modern facades to fade away in my imagination, and to feel the city as it may have been in the past. Centuries of history lay at these doorsteps and flowed over these exquisite grey-tiled rooftops. I would return in a heartbeat! And I want to learn more about its amazing history.
Our introduction to Beijing
We flew Air China to Japan, which afforded us a stopover in the amazing capital city Beijing on our return journey from Sapporo, Hokkaido.
My goodness, I loved it!
Our drive in by taxi was totally exhilarating! Cars overtook on both sides weaving across the lanes, as we looked out on to skyscrapers lit up a dazzling red.
A burst of air impacted the windscreen, and for a moment I thought it was going to blow in, like in a movie!
As we approached the area north of central Beijing, the streets narrowed and grew more crowded, as people poured into dazzling red lantern-lit restaurants. Our taxi slowed for the many bicycles and mopeds .
It was wild!
And then we began to crawl through the narrow, made-for-rickshaw old lanes known as hutongs, and the taxi could go no further. We got out, grabbed our cases, and wandered up and down a dark lane for several minutes until we identified our hotel.
Our Hotel
We had chosen to stay at a courtyard hotel in the hutongs - you know me, I love to stay in places that have a story, and that have history and culture!
It's called Le Zai Nan Luo Gu Xiang Wang Fu Jing, and the night-time welcome we received couldn't have been kinder. We gulped down glasses of graciously offered citrus juice (the daytime temperature had been in the 30s and the heat lingered), and we were taken to our ground floor room.
Everything looked new, from the sheets and towels to the beautiful bath. The hairdryer was a lot better than the one I have at home! A nice detail were the old chests and cupboards which added a lot of character to the room, as well as the gorgeous spray of painted persimmons on wallpaper across the far wall.
In the morning we discovered the hotel was brimming with character. Large pots of lotus crouched in the courtyard. We climbed up to the rooftop seating which overlooked the old hutong rooftops. There were goldfish and koi swimming in a pool.
And the staff couldn't have been more willing to help.
Two days later, when we were about to leave the manager surprised us with a beautiful gift - a china teacup and a tin of Da Hong Pao Big Red Robe Oolong tea.
I understand that this tea is grown in very small quantities and is rare and precious.
But there are grafts of the tea paired with other varieties, and I imagine that is what this is. It's beautiful - you can clearly see the rubbed and rolled dried black leaves.
Hou Hai
I was so surprised by Beijing. Spilling out of the hotel onto the dusty streets was like entering an old Chinese story. Every lane we walked down was fascinating in the early morning light. It was still cool, but intense heat promised itself in the clear light and vivid blue skies.
Boats were gliding under the petite Silver Ingot Bridge as we crossed. It was an absolute delight to slowly walk beside the glittering lake, admiring the beautiful architecture along the way, gazing at the cooling greens of lotus leaves as we walked Lotus Lane.
Fishermen cast their lines beyond the lotus leaves as dabchicks dove under the water.
A man carrying a paper fan passed by as a brilliantly coloured dragonfly rose into the clear blue sky lifted by the breeze drifting over the lake.
Bei Hai Park
I loved Bei Hai too, on this early morning it was a serene place of jewel-like colour, of sunshine and light breezes. People stretched and did tai chi. It was a beautiful space.
Across the lake, a white Buddhist stupa raised above the island trees.
We crossed the white bridge at the far end of the lake, and began to catch glimpses of the Forbidden City.
The Temple of Heaven
We walked along the length of the perimeter wall of the Forbidden City, catching the Tian'an Men West subway to Tian Tan Dong Men, and the breathtaking Temple of Heaven.
The temperatures were now soaring, and so we kept to simply seeing the main sights. The approach to the iconic conical Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests was through a beautiful painted corridor, lit up in jade, lapis lazuli blue, and red.
The Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests (which has come to be known as the Temple of Heaven) is exquisitely painted, and gilded with symbolic shapes of phoenixes and dragons. It is hard to comprehend the beauty. And what was equally beguiling, were the swifts which darted in and out of the structure - darting beneath painted boards, like souls from the ancient past.
The Hall of Prayer for Good Harvest (the Temple of Heaven) was built in 1420. This architecture is much newer than the 8th century capital Chang'an (Xi'an) which so heavily influenced Heian-kyō (Kyoto).
As Japan evolved its own practices away from this original Chinese influence, it was fascinating to consider that in the same century that Beijing built the complex at Tian Tan, Ryōan-ji, with its sublime raked gravel garden was being built in the northern hills of Kyoto.
Tian'an Men Square and the Forbidden City
What is astonishing is that, while making your way to the Forbidden City, the security system leads you directly underneath the Mao Zedong Mausoleum, with the huge portrait on the wall. What I wasn't prepared for was entry to the Forbidden City is through an archway just along from the portrait. It really is incredible to see so much of Chinese history side by side in this way.
Spilling out from the immense grandeur of the plaza before the Mausoleum, into the grounds of the ancient palace, is something that still astonishes me, days later!
The Palace: there are no words. It's unbelievable, in its scale, in its immense beauty (those golden rooftops!), and for its preservation. Ladies dressed in beautiful traditional Chinese hanfu dress added immensely to the charm.
At the far end of Beijing's Forbidden City is an enchanting garden, filled with roses and pavilions. In the past it was a place for the emperor and his concubines to rest and relax. The exquisite pavilions are named the Pavilion of One Thousand Autumns, the Pavilion of Auspicious Clarity, and the Pavilion of Floating Jade. I think you can imagine how beautiful these places are from the names alone!
The scale of the Forbidden City was surely intimidating to anyone who arrived with a message for the Emperor.
I found an ancient poem by Bo Juyi, the Tang dynasty poet from China so beloved by the Heian court in Kyoto. Of course, Kyoto was modelled in its foundational days on the most modern city in the contemporary world - Chang'an (modern-day Xi'an).
In this poem an emissary arrives at the fabled Tang court at Chang'an:
At Chang'an - a full foot of snow;
A levee at dawn - to bestow congratulations on the Emperor.
Just as I was nearing the Gate of the Silver Terrace,
After I had left the suburb of Xin-chang
On the high causeway my horse's foot slipped;
In the middle of the journey my lantern suddenly went out.
Ten leagues riding, always facing to the north;
The cold wind almost blew off my ears.
I waited for the bell outside the Five Gates;
I waited for the summons within the Triple Hall.
My hair and beard were frozen and covered with icicles;
My coat and robe - chilly like water.
Suddenly I thought of Xianyou Valley
And secretly envied Chen Zhu-shi,
In warm bed socks dozing beneath the rugs
And not getting up till the sun has mounted the sky.
The delicacy of the painting of the Tang court ladies above gives an indication of the sophistication of this court from China's golden era. Is it any wonder that the court of Kyoto sent its emissaries here, and brought back its enchanting ideas.
But of course Beijing was founded as the capital of China decades after the Heian court had fallen in flames to the Kamakura Genji clan.
The grandson of Genghis Khan, Kublai Khan, stayed at Daning Palace on tranquil Qionghua Island in 1261, in what is now Beijing's Bei Hai Park, and ordered the expansion of this city.
Bei Hai Park
It was now 36 degrees and the tranquil Bei Hai Lake with its willows and breezes was calling us!
This time we passed the boats and crossed the bridge to visit Jade Island (ancient Qionghua Island) with its Buddhist stupa.
It's a very cute place: tranquil and pretty. We made our way down to the water's edge and hopped on a painted ferry boat, which slowly glided across the water to the further side of the park.
Now we could see the snack bars and cafes thronged with people, very altered from when we had walked through in the early morning.
We made our way back to the narrow hutongs, along a beautiful riverside walkway which was lined with overhanging wooden bridges. Back at our hotel, we made our way up to the rooftop bar where we drank cocktails which were accompanied by an ink-brushed poem, until the light lowered over this ancient neighbourhood in the city.
Confucius Temple
What you do not wish for yourself, do not do to others
Our brief Air China stopover allowed us time for the gorgeous Confucius Temple, which was about a 30 minute amble through the fascinating lanes. Everywhere we walked we saw something fascinating, from the young boy sitting in the dusty street having his head shaved under the stern eye of his grandmother; a lady walking by with a white Pekingese dog; children crossing the street to go to kindergarten with one girl proudly showing her hand-held tank of giant snails; children crouched up on mopeds before a parent - no helmets; and the trays of peaches and apricots, and chicken feet in the shop doorways.
The approach to the Confucius Temple reminded me of the serene lanes approaching temples in Kyoto. It was a very leafy area, with chattering azure-winged magpies swinging high up in the shady trees.
There was something about the Confucius Temple that made me think of Disney's beautiful art in The Jungle Book. It was something in the faded paint decorating the ancient buildings. It was something in the sprawling wisteria-like plants that had roped themselves into trees. It was in the misaligned pavings, and the sheer beauty, the stunning otherworldliness. Confucius in his central statue, grinning - looking so warm and jolly. I loved this place, and was so happy we had been able to see it.
Conclusion
There is so much more I would love to see in this fascinating city. This time, the Summer Palace and the Great Wall eluded us. I would return to this city in a heartbeat if I get the chance, because the charm of the people beguiled me, and the majesty of the history compels me to learn more.
Since I've returned home I have been reading The Story of China by Michael Wood; watching his BBC programmes about China as well as fascinating insights about Confucius by Bettany Hughes, and the wonderful China's Greatest Treasures with Alastair Sooke. Harvard University has an interesting free course called China X which can be accessed on their EdX website.
I'm keen to learn about this extraordinary culture and history, and to try and understand just how it began to influence my beloved Heian court of Kyoto in the 8th century.
The origin of Chinese poetry is far earlier than I ever could have imagined. The poetry anthology The Book of Songs contains poems which date right back to the 11th century BC. It's older than Homer's Iliad (8th century BC). Now I can begin to see the long ancestry stretching behind the enchanting Heian era poetry in Kyoto.
I bought Arthur Waley's translated Chinese Poems for £1.50 in an Oxford college library sale a few years ago, and it begins with poems from The Book of Songs. Now it has been taken off my bookshelf, along with the poetry of Tang poet Bo Juyi and The Analects of Confucius.
The poetry at first glance is a little like Japan's 8th century Man'yōshū - voices of princes and labourers whisper from the past.
I'm fascinated by the idea of the Axial Age - this period of history which fundamentally changed global thinking, through Confucius, the Buddha, and Sophocles.
Next time I visit China, hopefully I will have more of an understanding. But for now - I loved Beijing, and the memory of it makes me burst into a big smile!
Sources
Arthur Waley (translator), 'Flowers and Moonlight on the Spring River' by Yang-ti, Emperor of the Sui Dynasty from 605 till 617, Chinese Poems, (Allen and Unwin), p.115.
Arthur Waley (translator), 'An Early Levee' from Waiting for the Moon: Poems of Bo Juyi, (Axios Press), p.27.
Court Ladies Wearing Flowered Headdresses by Zhou Fang - http://www.wenhuacn.com/meishu/minghua/04suitang/renwuhua15.jpg, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=9755234
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