China > The Forbidden City

China - The large image of Mao on Tiananmen Square

Tea is brought to the compartment. It’s half past six. The train is already running through the suburbs of Beijing. That’s not surprising, considering that the city of 20 million inhabitants is about the size of a quarter of the Netherlands. I get off at Beijing West Station. A bus takes me to the hotel. With the travel group, I take a walk through the city to get my bearings. Through the hutongs, the old working-class neighborhoods, I walk toward the vast Tiananmen Square. I’m struck by these narrow, old streets. They feel more like a village atmosphere than the center of a megacity. In the background, I see tall tower blocks and office buildings. I fear that these hutongs will soon have to make way for progress. The closer I get to Tiananmen Square, the more commercial the shops and restaurants become. As I exit the hutong, I see the Front Gate of Tiananmen Square, or the Square of Heavenly Peace, ahead. The gate provides access to the largest square in the world. Everything around the square seems tightly controlled. Pedestrians must use an underground tunnel to enter the square so traffic can flow uninterrupted. Fences line the sidewalks to prevent people from crossing the road. In the tunnel, there’s a thorough baggage check. I send my backpack through the scanner and walk onto the square. Facing me is Mao’s mausoleum, which prevents me from seeing the entire square. I join the line of people waiting to enter. Security here is also strict—bags and cameras are not allowed. The line moves past the glass coffin.

China - Overview of the Forbidden City in central Beijing

I see Mao lying inside. His body reminds me more of a wax figure than a human corpse. The pace is brisk; anyone who slows down is immediately urged forward. Before long, I am back outside on the square. Looking across, I see a large flagpole and Mao’s portrait on the wall of the Forbidden City—the iconic image. I cross the square diagonally toward the Forbidden City and enter the complex beneath Mao’s portrait. The Forbidden City was once home to the Ming dynasty emperors. Ordinary Chinese citizens were not allowed inside, which explains the name. Today the complex is open to all, and tourists in particular make eager use of this opportunity. I see the imperial throne in the Hall of Supreme Harmony, from which the emperor once addressed his court. I visit several ceremonial halls. Walking among the splendid buildings is an extraordinary experience. In the innermost part of the Forbidden City lived the emperor and his family.

China - The northern lake in Beihai Park

I wander through various palaces and halls. After a few hours, I’ve had enough, though I haven’t seen all the structures—the place is simply too vast to take in. I exit through the rear gate. Behind the complex, I enter a park and climb the hill to the pavilion. From its terrace, I enjoy a beautiful view over the Forbidden City and retrace the path I took through it. I descend on the side path and cross the street into Beihai Park, one of the largest classical Chinese gardens. A large portion of the park is occupied by the northern lake. I watch young couples pedal-boating across the water. I climb up to the White Pagoda, the 40-meter-tall Bai Ta pagoda at the highest point of the park. Near the pagoda, I see signs pointing to the “ancient caves” and follow them. Inside the grotto, a network of stairs winds through chambers adorned with statues. The signage is in Chinese, and I’m not always sure which way to go. A Chinese couple laughs when they see my puzzled expression and points me in the right direction. Together, we find the exit. I walk back toward Tiananmen Square alongside the Forbidden City.

China - Dining in the former Hutong

By now, the Forbidden City is closed, so I can’t pass through the gate with Mao’s portrait. The shortest way is straight through the park, but that requires a ticket. Not wanting to take a long detour, I buy a ticket for two yuan (about 25 cents). On the square, crowds are already waiting for the flag-lowering ceremony, still three-quarters of an hour away. I decide not to wait and instead return to the hotel through the hutongs. In one hutong, I spot a cozy restaurant. I sit on the outdoor terrace for dinner. I attract a lot of attention from passing Chinese tourists. More than once, people—sometimes openly, sometimes discreetly—take my picture.