Through the haze – it’s that in-between time between summer and autumn – I spot the tops of buildings upon buildings as far as the eye can see. Down below, I see an endless stream of motor vehicles circling, criss-crossing all on their way to somewhere.
I am back in Beijing about two years after it hosted the Olympics. The airport was as busy as it was then. The young girl who meets me warns me that the queue at immigration will be long. “It’s that time of the day, United Airlines and Emirates are in at the same time, always a lot of people,” she says.
When we reach immigration, she stops in her tracks and says, “Oh my God.” The queues are indeed long. She quickly scurries up to a far counter, beckoning me to follow. “Quick, I think we can go to Chinese nationals,” she says.
Feeling like I am in a video game, I keep up with her. She and her meet-and-greet colleagues have obviously figured out how to work the system. Queue up at the last Chinese national counter and when the rest of the counters in this section empty, you get to go ahead.
At the baggage conveyor belt, bags have piled up as the belt has broken down. “Oh my God,” she says. She speaks rapidly in Mandarin to the baggage handlers. “Let’s walk and find your bag,” she says.
This girl has no time to waste. I grab my bag from the pile, she dumps it on the trolley and wheels it faster than Usain Bolt. Nearing the train station, she picks up pace again. “Hurry, we can catch this train but let’s go to the far end, fewer people,” she says.
Suddenly, she darts across the platform where another train is waiting. “Here, quick,” she says, as she squeezes herself into a very small space packed with people and bags. That’s the thing about living in a big city with many people – you learn how to make yourself so small as to squeeze into the tiniest crevices between bodies.
I do likewise and find myself almost nose to nose with an American businessman from Dallas, who’s in the semiconductor industry and comes to Beijing every two months. He tells me he prefers Singapore and his name is Moses. It’s impossible not to get to know someone whom you are so squashed up against, even if it’s only for five minutes.
My escort tells me she’s been doing this for eight months, her first job after graduating from university in Hubei province. She’s young and bright. I can see she won’t be doing this job for long. “I want to return to Hubei,” she says. “Beijing is too big.”
In the papers, I read of a reverse trend happening where youths from provinces, after having tasted life in the big cities, are returning to a simpler life and with secondary cities themselves booming, there are more job opportunities now for younger people.
The World Economic Forum is meeting in Tianjin. Known as the Summer Davos, the Annual Meeting of the New Champions is gathering to discuss opportunities in a land that everyone is hoping will lead the world into new economic prosperity. With the US and Europe slowing down, pundits are forecasting a double dip recession but in China, optimism remains high.
Beijing hotels are doing well. The newest Shangri-La hotel to open in the city – it opened August 16 – is running above 90% occupancy with average rates that are beating its competitive set.
Later that evening, I ventured out of my bubble in the sky to walk across Jianguomen Avenue to a local restaurant in Yong’anli Road. On a Google map, it looked close enough. In reality, everything is always bigger and further in China than it looks.
Forty minutes later, I arrive at the restaurant. It is absolutely teeming with people. It serves an old style of Beijing cuisine, based on Manchurian days – I recommend the deer meat and mushrooms. The staff are super-efficient. Seeing my Blackberry lying on the table, the waitress picks it up and puts it in a plastic bag. “Keep clean,” she says.
I am dining with Wu Hai, CEO of Orange Hotel Group, the local hotel group that is attempting to outsmart the competition by offering high design hotels at value rates. He will have about 20 hotels by this year end and is aiming for 50 by 2012. Four minutes’ walk away from the restaurant is his first Crystal Orange (pictured below), his higher-end brand, in Beijing.
It’s a construction site right now but two weeks from now, it will open in Yong’anli Middle Road. This is old Beijing tucked just one block behind the glistening LG Twin Towers on Jianguomen Avenue.
Here you find tiny grocery stores and sundry shops. There’s a hole-in-the-wall Sex Shop. Folks gather on the side streets, smoking and chatting, like they have all the time in the world, although it looks like it could be borrowed time. I see buildings earmarked for demolition.
Back on the other side of the road, I head up to the Atmosphere Bar on the 80th floor of the hotel. I wanted to taste a cocktail mixed by the famous Charlie from the Schumann’s American Bar in Munich. Alas, the place is packed with the young and affluent of Beijing with the same idea in mind. Cigar smoke wafts through the air. Lounge music plays. There’s a queue waiting to get into the bar.
Yes, one city, one road apart, yet worlds apart. 
Featured image credit (Beijing city skyline detailed silhouette): Ockra/iStock
