I still am following the road that will lead me to that grand TV Tower of the Orient. I miss a metro stop that would take me right there. Instead I walk to what should be the famous ‘Bund’. On the way I hear from two other girls say, “Hi! Where are you from? We are having an art show, would you like to see some painting?”
I tell them, “I’ve already met your friends, please say hello to them from me.” But it’s after the third person—this time a gentlemen—who mentions an art show that it hits me--have I been involved in some sort of scam?
I couldn’t believe it! They were so friendly and seemed so genuine. Bummer! I also started to wonder if the tea ceremony had been a little ‘hoisted’. But that invitation seemed a little more legit—offered by teachers on holiday. ..or were they?
After two unplanned activities, unbudgeted purchases bought and subway opportunities missed, I finally saw The Pearl. In all its glory, there it was just a few meters away ready to be exhumed. I had heard about another building with a great view where you could sit and have a nice drink and watch the sunset.
But I wanted to experience The Pearl not just see it from afar. I wanted to walk on its steps, see through its glass, breath its space-age essence. “These things must be touched, felt and breathed to really experience,” I said to my conscience a little too strongly when thinking about the admission price. Only too vividly and for too long did I feel, touch and breath the essence of this tower.
If one word could sum up this experience it would be LINE. Only in a line could you experience these features so vividly and for so long. You have hours and hours to re-live every minute detail in your mind of what you see and especially what you hear.
The screaming children, the endless silver rails keeping you from the elevator that takes you up and down, the aching feet walking on the tower floors... You got to know your line-neighbors pretty well.
There was the Hong Kong couple living in Beijing with their little girl, the two aunties with their daughter and the obnoxious young couple with a little son who kept trying to butt ahead. The Hong Kong couple was very nice. They helped make sure I didn’t get lost in the shuffle.
So yes, line after line after line. A line to get to the line to get to the elevator that had a line after going up to get the next elevator line. There was also a line to go down the elevator followed by another line to go to the very bottom level.
(PS this wouldn’t be so bad if I hadn’t already been walking for four hours in 95 degree heat without having had lunch yet? Silly of me, only there was no way to see the line from the ticket booth. You had to go in blind.)
Oh, if I had only stayed outside to see the Pearl in all its glory.
I tell them, “I’ve already met your friends, please say hello to them from me.” But it’s after the third person—this time a gentlemen—who mentions an art show that it hits me--have I been involved in some sort of scam?
I couldn’t believe it! They were so friendly and seemed so genuine. Bummer! I also started to wonder if the tea ceremony had been a little ‘hoisted’. But that invitation seemed a little more legit—offered by teachers on holiday. ..or were they?
After two unplanned activities, unbudgeted purchases bought and subway opportunities missed, I finally saw The Pearl. In all its glory, there it was just a few meters away ready to be exhumed. I had heard about another building with a great view where you could sit and have a nice drink and watch the sunset.
But I wanted to experience The Pearl not just see it from afar. I wanted to walk on its steps, see through its glass, breath its space-age essence. “These things must be touched, felt and breathed to really experience,” I said to my conscience a little too strongly when thinking about the admission price. Only too vividly and for too long did I feel, touch and breath the essence of this tower.
If one word could sum up this experience it would be LINE. Only in a line could you experience these features so vividly and for so long. You have hours and hours to re-live every minute detail in your mind of what you see and especially what you hear.
The screaming children, the endless silver rails keeping you from the elevator that takes you up and down, the aching feet walking on the tower floors... You got to know your line-neighbors pretty well.
There was the Hong Kong couple living in Beijing with their little girl, the two aunties with their daughter and the obnoxious young couple with a little son who kept trying to butt ahead. The Hong Kong couple was very nice. They helped make sure I didn’t get lost in the shuffle.
So yes, line after line after line. A line to get to the line to get to the elevator that had a line after going up to get the next elevator line. There was also a line to go down the elevator followed by another line to go to the very bottom level.
(PS this wouldn’t be so bad if I hadn’t already been walking for four hours in 95 degree heat without having had lunch yet? Silly of me, only there was no way to see the line from the ticket booth. You had to go in blind.)
Oh, if I had only stayed outside to see the Pearl in all its glory.
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