By Terry Carter*
When we were last in Beijing a few summers ago and were visiting the star sights, including the Great Wall of China, the air was filled with a thick grey-brown smog, making decent photos impossible. But we still had a great time. In Italy recently, it also seemed like every significant sight in every city was covered in scaffolding, again making good photos impossible. It became a running joke between Lara and I that to find the duomo (a town's central cathedral, usually situated in the main square) we just had to look for a crane, scaffolding, or men-at-work signs. When you’ve been commissioned to shoot photographs of these sights it becomes more than a little frustrating. Instead of sending the book editors beautifully framed images of important attractions, we’re going to be sending way too many small detailed shots, to get around the scaffolding. Or sending snapshots from Lara's point-and-shoot camera to show the construction carnage with a suggestion that the editors procure a stock image for the sight if they want a wide-shot. As travellers (rather than travel writers), while we love doing the sights, we’re much more interested in exploring fascinating local neighbourhoods, seeking out bespoke shops and local artisans, and visiting restaurants that serve authentic regional foods and wines. But how does it affect your trip? What if you went to Paris and the Eiffel Tower was covered in scaffolding? Or Big Ben was having its clocks repaired? Or the Leaning Tower of Pisa was being propped up by engineering teams? How much does seeing - and photographing - the key sights matter to your travel experience? Do these things simply spoil your photo opportunity or can they spoil your trip? While holding the Olympics in Beijing during its smoggy summer period didn't seem to bother the International Olympic Committee, would you change your schedule if you knew a city's star attraction was invisible or out of order? We'd love to hear your thoughts.
*Terry is my husband, co-writer and a professional travel photographer.
Just in case you're now wishing you were at the 2008 Beijing Olympic Games after seeing the spectacular Opening Ceremony, and are inspired to book a flight... check out my Cool Travel Guide to Beijing. By no means exhaustive, it's simply a list of favorite things to do in the smoggy city.What to do: The main main must-see sights are the Forbidden City, Summer Palace, Great Wall of China (a day trip), and Temple of Heaven. Once over the disappointment of finding out the Forbidden City has a Starbucks inside, and it's almost always smoggy out at the Great Wall too, work your way through this list:
* Kick back at Houhai Lake - stroll around this lovely leafy lake, shop in the stores in renovated old buildings (you'll find everything from 'antiques' to Indian hippy clothes), or simply hang out and do some people-watching at the al fresco lakeside cafes, restaurants, bars and clubs. There's no denying it's touristy, but it is fun. Whatever you do, don't join one of those silly rickshaw tours.
* Explore Beijing's last remaining hutongs - few of the city's hutongs (historic neighbourhoods of narrow alleyways with traditional low-rise courtyard houses) still exist; many were bulldozed as part of a 'urban makeover' for the Olympics. Those that remain are fascinating places to explore, whether gentrified, their renovated buildings turned into hip hotels and private clubs, or remaining authentic, their gritty alleys home to tiny grocery stores and hole-in-the-wall eateries, where kids play in the streets and old folks sit and watch the world go by. Give the organized hutong tours a miss and explore: see this list here and images here for inspiration.
* Shop for Communist kitsch at Panjiayuan Market - this fantastic market is one of our world favorites. Not only is this the place to shop for communist-era trinkets and propaganda posters (sure, they're replicas, but who cares), 'antiques' (ditto) and bric-a-brac, as well as Chinese handicrafts, including vibrant tribal textiles, but it's also great for people-watching.
* Browse the galleries at 798 Dashanzi Arts District This hip neighbourhood of art galleries, artists studios, art supply shops, tea houses and cafes is a delight to explore. Decorative calligraphy brushes and contemporary art make cool souvenirs.
Where to eat: Qianmen Quanjude Roast Duck Restaurant for a quintessential Beijing experience. Everyone has eaten here, from celebrities to visiting dignitaries (from Fidel Castro to Yasser Arafat!), and after working our way through a whole succulent Peking Duck (pictured) we understood why. The Quanjude family claim to have been serving duck at this location since the Qing Dynasty. A digital clock ticks over each time a duck is served and while I'm know it didn't exist in Emporer Tongzhi's time, the clock records how many ducks they've served since they started in 1864. As our succulent bird was brought to our table to be carved in front of us, it ticked over to 115,081,852.
Other memorable dining experiences included stunning, contemporary Asian cuisine in a chic and sleek setting at Jing, at the Peninsula Beijing; intriguing dishes that were favorites of Chairman Mao's at the atmospheric Red Capital Club; a fascinating meal at the much-written-about Green T-House where the decor and diners were arguably as interesting as the cuisine; and delicious meals at a dozen other no-name plastic tablecloth eateries that dished up some of the most mouthwatering food we've ever eaten.
Where to stay: We'd wanted to stay at the much-talked-about Red Capital Residence, but as it was booked up we checked into the charming Lu Song Yuan hotel, listed in all the guidebooks. A warning: while our stay was fine, the hotel attempted to draw upon our credit card months after our trip. A glitch perhaps? The hotel still gets good reviews on hotel booking sites, as does a similar property, the Bamboo Garden Hotel. We stayed at the tranquil Red Capital Ranch not far from the Great Wall one night, where we ate unusual meals made from garden greens, herbs and flowers. How to get there: Emirates connects cities in Europe and the Middle East with Beijing via Dubai while Cathay Pacific does a good job of getting the rest of the world there via Hong Kong.
Beijing. My picture of the Pekingese pup perched on a shelf (as if for sale) outside a hole in the wall store in a backstreet of a Beijing hutong reminds me of our last summer there. A monsoon of memories, provoked by potent images, comes to mind - don't you love the way our memories sort, collate and retrieve images at will? Albeit somewhat imperfectly, but I'm thankful all the same. The first image is that of two little girls and their mother whom we met in the Forbidden City. I'd been looking forward to seeing the City but the weather was awful (sweltering, steamy, smoggy) and the air quality dreadful (it was difficult to breathe) so my memories are as hazy as the City was on that day. My strongest memory, however, is of this charming affable (even playful) mother and her adorable children who chatted to us for a short time. The little girls wore these kitsch souvenir headdresses that I became smitten with (yes, I ended up buying one) and after speaking to them for just a little while, I didn't want to leave. They were on their summer holidays and they were generous, even lazy, with their time, casual and carefree, and in no hurry to go anywhere. That's something about summer that I love. That easygoing temperament that overcomes us with the warm weather come July and August. Where does our patience go the rest of the year? Regardless, thank god it returns. And there was something about them that I envied. They were having fun. It was their summer holiday after all. I think I've forgotten what it's like to have a holiday... and a summer one at that.
What is it about those memorable travel moments, like mine with the Moroccan cat, that are so enduring? Is it because it's a moment that could never have been anticipated? No amount of information in the guidebook, on travelocity or in the glossy travel magazines could have prepared me for that unexpected stop at a coffee shop on a cold day in a remote Moroccan town. And yet these chance encounters and those elements of surprise are exactly what we hope for and expect from the experience of travel. We covet serendipitous moments, intoxicating experiences and potent images that we can take home and cherish and unconsciously compress into a compelling narrative. We want travel stories we can tell. Don't we? Did I ever tell you about the time we came across a cute Pekingese on a walk through Beijing? Now, there should have been nothing unexpected about that.
Sometimes when you're travelling it's just as compelling to watch people who are bored as it is to watch people who are engaged. Why do you think that is?
As much as I love the incongruities we come across on our movements around the globe, I love making connections between cultures and finding similarities in everyday encounters. It's all about joining the dots. The Beijing Turkish kebap boys reminded me of two affable cooks we'd met two weeks earlier at Hong Kong Noodle on Sampeng Lane, Bangkok. Fantastic noodles, authentic, tasty, cheap. And friendly staff. That visit wasn't memorable because of the incongruity of that experience - after all, the Chinese have a connection to Bangkok. Ankara and Beijing may be boosting ties now but I don't know of any historical Chinese-Turkish connections. Regardless, this is more about making connections between experiences in different parts of the world, in our minds, in our memories. An image, a moment, an event, one reminds us of another. It's all about connecting the dots, don't you think?
I love to discover incongruities when I travel, as I told you. Like the coffee-seller using a shiny Italian espresso machine in Aleppo's medieval souq, I like this image of two guys working a Turkish doner kebap stand in Beijing. It wasn't something I expected to see in downtown Beijing. For me, it was out of context, that's all. And there lies its disarming charm. For me, food is another source of joy when I travel. And I enjoy eating 'foreign' foods in countries to find out how that culture has adapted and reinterpreted another culture's dish to suit its taste. Although nothing beats trying food that's typical of a country's cuisine, those dishes that are representative of a culture and identity, that its people are proud of, that are served with love. I'll never forget my first time in Paris. My friend Sandrine invited us to stay at her place and we arrived to a breakfast of warm croissants, fresh from the bakery. Sure we'd had croissants in Sydney, even in Abu Dhabi, before. But these were Parisian croissants our French friend was proudly serving us in Paris. And to us they were the most delicious, flaky, buttery croissants we'd ever eaten. I can smell them now.
By Terry Carter* 
