The Number 441/860 Buses to Chateau Laffitte

Nov. 26 – Beijing

Take two city buses to the end of the line north of Beijing, and you arrive in North American suburbia, China-style. The ride out there today wasn’t pretty. Our creaky, loosely-sprung buses bounced their way on bad, dusty roads past trash-strewn villages to the gates of a French chateau. The structure is a faithful replica of an edifice of the same name located just outside Paris. Why? Why to make money of course! It is the centerpiece of a complex that includes a hotel, equestrian park, and golf course. The chateau itself is rented out for functions. A bored-looking doorman told us this from inside the warmth of the marble floored great hall, complete with grand staircase, cr

 

ystal chandelier, and painted ceiling. The gardens, now in winter mode, were bare. But neo-Roman (ish) statues stood vigil over the labourers as they tended the grounds.

Even stranger than the Chinese fantasy of European grandeur, were the monster homes of Oakville just beyond the frosty golf course. We only saw them from a distance, but we might as well have been driving past a bedroom community anywhere in Canada or the U.S. Of course, these mansions are nowhere near the downtown core, and aren’t properly served by public transit. Sound familiar?

A few more uncommon things today:

Lunch included pig vertebrae. Swine spine, served with a plastic glove to keep your fingers from getting messy. We in the west have a very limited palate, and so I ate my portion in an effort to broaden mine. But it is not easy to escape your cultural habits.

The ride back from the Chateau Laffitte saw us drive past a violent altercation involving a swarming and paving stones being thrown in front of dozens of bystanders. No one intervening and no police that I could see.

Gluehwein with dinner. Another “Great Wall” red, warmed and flavoured with aniseed, cinnamon, honey and sugar.