Jeolla - Part 1

May is a good time for workers in Korea, with two public holidays (Children’s Day and Buddha’s ‘Birthday’) arriving so close together, that with a bit of extra time-off from an understanding boss, you can stretch it out to a six-day vacation – in workaholic Korea, that’s bloody ages!

And so, this was when I had planned for my brother Eddie and his wife Sarah to come and visit Korea. I don’t think either of them had ever considered Korea as a holiday destination before, but my living here gave them an excuse to visit a corner of the world most Brits associate with either crazy dictators from Pyongyang, or eating Dog. As their host, it was my role to try and help dispel some of those myths, and also try and have a jolly good time.

Jeolla Nam-Do, or South Jeolla Province was our destination, the south-western corner of the country: an area known for its lush scenery (and wealth of islands located offshore); its agriculture and great food; and the artistic passion and radical politics of its people. Having talked to some of my students about it, Jeolla is often seen as apart from the rest of South Korea, and Jeolla’s people are probably quite happy to be seen that way too.

Joel and Sarah @ Boseong Station

Geographically, Jeolla is about as far as you can possibly travel from Seoul in mainland Korea. A 5-and-a-half hour train ride from Seoul’s Yongsan Station delivered Me, Eddie and Sarah directly to Boseong, a small town about 30 miles south of the provincial capital Gwangju. Boseong is famous for its Green Tea plantation, and this time of year is perfect to see the fields in all their green splendour. It sure felt like a long journey crossing most of the country, but thankfully the views, our packed lunch (Kimbab!), and a few rounds of travel scrabble got us through to the end. There we met my friend Joel, now an English teacher, a Gwangju-ite, and all-round Top Geeza. 

Eddie and Sarah at Boseong Tea Plantation

Boseong was undeniably very pretty, but it was rather busy, and the presence of the slightly tacky ‘Green Tea festival’ at the site – meaning market stalls, food venders and a very loud and incongruous  music stage – detracted slightly from the natural splendour. We did get some decent pictures, enjoyed a nice stroll in the sun, and finished off with some Seafood Pajeon (Korean pancake) washed down with a couple of beers, so no complaints. Sure beats work anyway.

Strange 'Man' providing music/comedy at Boseong

As usual in Korea, motel accommodation was abundant and, at less than £20 for a simple two-person room, damn cheap. A stay in a motel or hotel (what is the difference!?), even if it’s pretty basic, always feels like a treat to me anyway – I feel like I’m on a business trip or something, like an Actual Real Grown-Up. Awesome.

The next day we got a taxi from Boseong to Yeongam, the town nearest to the Wolchulsan National Park – hiking territory. The taxi cost 50,000 won, which is a bit luxurious, even in Korea, but it was a lot easier than the alternative of catching two buses, and in English money, that’s about £25 for what was a half-hour drive. With travel and accommodation this cheap, Korea you are really spoiling us!

The drive was very pretty, winding round Jeolla’s numerous mountains, farms and tiny traditional-style villages, until we arrived in (a rather sleepy) Yeongam. It took a worryingly long time to find a Motel, or even any shops or restaurants. But eventually we found a place, slung our bags and headed to Wolchulsan. 

Gureumdari Bridge at Wolchulsan, minutes before the view disappeared

Wolchulsan had been recommended to me by several friends as a really scenic hike. Sadly it looked like we chose the cloudiest day of the year to attempt it, and after we ascended a few hundred metres, the landscape around us dissolved into cloud. There was a certain serenity to being at the top of a hill and feeling like I was in The Heavens, especially as we largely had the mountain to ourselves (doubtless the weather had put off less brave/stupid hikers than us), but it was a bit of a shame to miss the view.

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Back to Yeongam for showers, a quick snooze and back out for dinner in an empty restaurant, and a few beers in an empty bar – where the hell is everyone? To be honest, I was ready to leave Yeongam the following morning – a town too big to be quaint, yet too small to be lively. The bright lights of coastal city Mokpo awaited…

Walk like a Korean: Hike!

When I tell my friends back in England that I often go hiking in Korea these days, they often respond along the lines of “What the hell happened to you?, you’ve changed.” Which is understandable. In England, I wouldn’t really associate myself with hiking. It’s not a terribly cool hobby is it. Even less so when you call it ‘rambling’ (though I still don’t really get the difference). To be fair, on occasion, I could be tempted to go for a stroll around some national park in Yorkshire (as long as there was a promise of a beer at the end), but Hiking? No thanks, that’s for strange fitness fanatics who (a) have an unhealthy fascination with Ordinance Survey maps, (b) have beards, and (c) don’t understand that getting up early at the weekend is just weird.

But Korea is different, for two main reasons. Firstly, topographically-speaking (don’t get to say that very often): if you live in or near one of the big cities, there is very little green space - almost all available flat ground has been built on. Gyeonggi Province, which surrounds Seoul (and is where I live), is one of the most densely populated areas on Earth, so if you want to get away from the busy roads and the claustrophobia of the never-ending apartment blocks, you can’t just go for a stroll in a park, you need to hike up a mountain. And there’s no shortage of mountains in Korea. No Sir.

Secondly, the negative connotations associated with hiking in the UK, alluded to earlier, don’t really exist in Korea. Hiking is perhaps the most popular outdoor hobby here, and whilst it is undoubtedly most popular with older generations, you will find all sorts of people taking to the hills every weekend: men and women, children as young as ten, and old men (or ‘Ajussi’) some of whom look about seventy. People often go hiking in groups of friends; they usually take some kind of picnic to eat at the summit; and the more hardy ones will take a supply of Makgeoli or Soju for some alcoholic refreshment. I wouldn’t go as far to say that hiking is ‘cool’, but it certainly has more of a social, relaxed, almost party vibe to it, than back in Blighty.

So, it’s a spring Saturday morning, I get up at 7am when I don’t have to (and yes, it feels highly unnatural), I take the subway to Sadang station, on the outskirts of Seoul, and meet my friends and co-hikers Mark and Josh, and we hit the trail of Gwanaksan, a pretty small mountain (by Korean standards) at 632 meters high. It’s March, it’s pleasantly warm, and, apart from a few patches of ice near the top of the mountain and a few tricky rocky parts, it’s pretty straightforward stuff, even for me, a relative novice wearing trainers. And when you turn around, you are greeted by some pretty breath-taking views of the Capital, like this…

you can see the No. 63 Building to the left, and Namsan Tower back-right, beyond the Han River

At the top we are greeted by the usual groups of hikers taking photos, drinking water and the odd bottle of Makgeoli (yes, at 10.30am), and a couple of guys selling Ramen Noodles and lollipops. Near the summit, there is a Buddhist Temple with some great views. By now, the sun is hot enough to warrant putting on some sun cream: a nice place to stop, eat some brunch, listen to the (rather soothing) buddhist chanting coming from the temple, and catch our breath before the descent. 

Korean hikers do amuse me. Gwanaksan is hardly Kilimanjaro, but you wouldn’t think that by looking at the groups of people fully kitted-out: hiking jackets, boots, gloves, hats, rucksacks, walking sticks – it can’t be cheap. I think I’m being well prepared by not wearing jeans, but fashion-wise, these guys really take it seriously. There does seem to be a broader Korean inclination for always wearing the ‘appropriate’ clothes for any given activity – skiing, or biking, playing whatever sport – it’s like a uniform, part of the ritual which almost everyone takes part in, and pride in.

The summit of Gwanaksan. Witness the hiker-chic, bottom-left.

But there is something about hiking, walking, or just being away from the city, which I think is kind of universal. Wandering up and down the hills and mountains, people actually say ‘hello’ to each other. On particularly difficult stretches, people encourage each other, and, at the top, it’s not unknown for strangers to share food or drink. It’s the same in the UK, in Korea, and I’ll guess, most countries: in cities, people often don’t really seem like humans, they just appear on the pavement or on the bus as obstacles which need to be negotiated. But add some trees, grass, the odd mountain, replace the smog with fresh air, and hey presto, people are actually nice to each other. Fancy that. Turns out hiking is pretty cool after all. That’ll be another lesson that Korea’s taught me. And that first beer at the end is the best one you’ll have all week.

Art Vs. Music

Art eh? I really enjoy going to Art Galleries (decent ones, anyway), but I’ve never really been good at talking or writing about them afterwards. I usually come outside, compare notes with my companions about our favourite pieces, shrug my shoulders and head to the nearest pub. There are some pieces whose impact has stayed with me for years, which I can still picture now (notably at the Sachi Gallery in London, which I have generally always left impressed). But even with those pieces which have genuinely affected me, I wish I could elicit some greater emotional descriptions about Art in the same way that I can about Films or Music. But sorry, it just isn’t really Me.

So, friends, don’t expect much from this!

Based in Itaewon, The Leeum Art Gallery is pretty good for 10k won (about £5). It’s a gallery of two halves, the first being devoted to traditional Korean Art, old tapestries, ancient royal artifacts, pottery and the like. To be honest, I fly through that part, and, perhaps being a foreigner and therefore not really understanding the historical contexts from whence they came, these older exhibits rather bore me.

Far more interesting is the second part of the museum, devoted to modern and international Art. Here you can find pieces from Korean artists as well as the likes of famous types like Mark Rothko, Willem De Kooning, Damien Hirst and Andy Warhol.  Rothko’s pieces (seemingly just two or three huge strokes of paint) seems utterly trivial, and kind of infuriating (why is he so famous and rich again?!), but I really like some of the Korean Art (especially Bach yiso’s “wide world wide”) and Song Hyun-Sook’s “8 Brush strokes” (Rothko: take note, that’s how you make the basic, interesting!). 

"great staircase"

For the foreign art, Andreas Gursky’s ‘Pyongyang’ is an impressive bit of photography (a huge hi-res shot of the thousands of people rehearsing at the North Korean capital’s epic’ Mass Games’), and I have to say that I enjoy Damien Hirst’s ‘Dance of Death’ too – was basically the biggest and most colourful cabinet of pills, tablets and drugs you’ve ever seen – Hirst does a good line in attention-grabbing Art.

(NB - Taking photos in Art Galleries is generally a good way to get shown the door - so if you wanna see more pics, go to the Leeum website )

The Gallery itself is a cool piece of modern architecture which is impressive whilst being neutral enough to let the Art breathe, as it were. It has this great staircase too.- wooooo.

So, I come outside, compare notes with my companions about our favourite pieces, shrug my shoulders and head to the nearest pub…. Except… there are no pubs in Korea! So we do the local thing: stop at a convenience store, buy a few bottles of beer and sat at the (conveniently-placed) plastic table and chairs outside and drink in the sun. And think of Summer. Ah, Summer, come hither…

Handsome Matt, rightly pleased with his Tacos

So, enough Art. A subway trip later and we are in Hongdae to see our friends Matt and Michele who have finished their English Teaching contracts and are about to return to the UK. Bless. Dinner came courtesy of Dos Tacos in Hongdae. I must recommend this Diner-style Mexican place for its cheapness, tastiness and the impressive speed at which they serve you some pretty decent tacos, burritos and the like. And beer. Yum.

After this, Motto is the next place. Again, Matt has chosen well. This is a pretty small but nice downstairs Music Bar with Hendrix and Beatles posters on the wall of the stairs, and a big screen-shot of Kurt Cobain greeting you as you take your seat. Write down requests in the book and they will play them, and even play the video, if they have it, on the big screen - cue singalongs to Radiohead and Muse as we down a few cocktails, and do Thom Yorke impressions. Yyyyum.

Liam, Jen, Lisa and Helen - Brits Abroad. MY Brits.

The main event tonight: a gig at live venue Freebird , for a monthly night they call ‘Round Robin’, where the bands play around the walls of the venue with the crowd in the middle, and play a song each in turn. If you’ve ever watched Jools Holland, it’s just like that. It’s busy, the acts are entertaining and diverse (just don't ask me what they were called), and it’s such a cool idea for a gig event that I spend almost thirty minutes trying to stop and hassle the (very busy-looking) promoter for a gig there for my own band. Sorry mate.

Nabi @ Blur-o'oclock

Last place (after the obligatory stop for an awesome kebab on the street - one of the many wonders of Hongdae), was Nabi – a nice underground Shishi bar (with its own pond and fountain – indoors!), the perfect place to lounge around on cushions, smoke pipes, talk nonsense, and put the icing on the cake of tomorrow’s hangover. Just got to remember where I live now…

Art Vs. Music? Finish your beer and make your bloody mind up.
Taxi's waitin'
x

Church Music

Korea has been kind to me since I arrived here, nearly five months ago, but this weekend has taken it to another level: Good people, lots of live music, alcohol, and even a faint whiff of that stuff they call ‘fame’. It feels like the Gods Of Korea are smiling on me at the moment, I don’t know why. I’m pretty sure I don’t deserve it. But anyway, wow.

Okay, re-wind... Children, our Korean word for today is ‘Hagwon’. There is no real equivalent of Hagwons in Western countries, as far as I’m aware. People variously call them ‘academies’, ‘night-schools’, ‘cram schools’, or ‘institutes’. They are essentially private schools which teach people a range of different subjects from English to Korean to Music to Computing to Cooking. If you can think of it, there will probably be some enterprising Korean (of which there are many) who will have created a Hagwon for it. They will charge you a monthly fee and you will attend for a few hours a day or a few days a week (class times completely vary,,of course), to fit in around your work or study schedule.

As for me, I work in a Language Hagwon which is mainly directed at adults, who want to study English or Japanese, at a variety of skill levels. Many, if not most English teachers who come to work in Korea, will work in Hagwons. It’s creates a lot of jobs and can be highly lucrative, as something like two-thirds of Korean education is conducted outside the government-run state schools, i.e. in Hagwons. So Hagwons are a pretty interesting, and rather unique aspect of Korea’s society and economy, and for me, they are the reason I have a job here!

Enough background, back to the fun stuff... Recently I had the incredible fortune to meet a great guy called Jae Woo. As well as being one of the most friendly and helpful people I have ever met, he also has the advantages of firstly owning a Music Hagwon (called ‘The Jazz and Pop Academy’) in a city called Shiheung, and secondly, of being a very skilled Saxophone player and Sax teacher himself.

Me and Jae Woo. Debut gig @ Ta, Hongdae, Seoul

As well as being lucky enough to meet Jae Woo, in the last month I also accumulated an English drummer, Mike, and an American Bass player called Hoho, who have both become good friends and drinking partners too.  Jae Woo offered to let us practise, gratis, at his Hagwon, and also brought a very talented (and, I may as well add, beautiful) piano teacher, called Yu Mi, into the band. So, to recap: one month ago, I was a washed-up wannabe-singer in a foreign land, with no-one to play with. Now, I have a five-piece band, representing 3 different countries, and with a whole heap of talent among them. Jammy.

IAMTHESUN - Farewell Korea gig @ Ta.

We had our first concert, after only three rehearsals, in Hongdae in Seoul, last Friday, which, despite a few inevitable bum notes, went pretty damn well. We supported the excellent IAMTHESUN (for whom It was their last Korean gig, before singer Matt returns to the UK - sad face!). I was satisfied with the gig, but the next day we would play again and it would be a completely different, crazy, random experience.

The day after the Hongdae gig, I wake up at a friend’s in Itaewon, confused and terribly hungover. Quelle Surprise. After a taxi ride, subway ride, bus ride and a slightly-lost-wander-around Shiheung city, I find the church, the venue for our concert. This concert (full name: the "Jazz and Pop Academy's 2nd Music Festival" )was organised by Jae Woo, for the students at his Hagwon to each come and play a song or two to their parents and friends. Many Hagwons hold these kind of events once or twice a year: to showcase what their students have learnt, and, moreover, to impress the parents (who invariably are the ones who pay for the classes!).

Dan. AKA "Jazz History Teacher" @ Jazz and Pop Hagwon. 

Ahem.

So the parents (a couple of hundred, I reckon) file in, and after a few words from Jae Wu and some of the staff at the Hagwon, the music begins. There are about 20 performances in total, ranging from vocal duos to full rock and blues bands to sax soloists. Some of the songs are in English (“Play That Funky Music White Boy” – amazing!) but even the Korean songs are interesting to hear, and it’s cute to see some young aspiring musicians do their stuff on a big stage in front of a big audience. Bless!

My band is due to play last, by which time my hangover has merged with nerves and mutated into Parkinson’s-esque shakes. I’ve never played to an all-Korean crowd before, I can’t speak Korean and I have no idea how they will react to our songs. There is an added comedy factor (for me, at least): knowing that the words to our second song “History Deletes Itself” (which I co-wrote last year with Dave Robertshaw, my old buddy back in the UK) are actually about Internet Pornography, and here I am, belting it out to hundreds of teenagers, mums and dads, in a church in Korea. Random Factor - 100.

Considering I only met most of the people in this band a matter of weeks ago, and today most of us are pretty knackered and bleary, we played pretty much faultlessly, and I must consider it a success. The main thing is that the crowd reaction is great, and after our show I am accosted by groups of teenagers, male and female, wanting photos with me. I’m both flattered and completely bemused as I am told repeatedly that I am “Handsome Guy” and “Singer Good”. Fifteen minutes of Koreann fame are mine. Hahaha!

 

As the evening progresses into dinner-afterparty-jam session-noraebang blur (NB. English readers, Noraebang = Karaoke!!), I dwell on the  possibilities I can see for us as musicians in Korea. Maybe it was just a one-off random event, and the novelty of a western singer with girly hair won’t earn me much more than the curiosity of teenagers. Who knows. For now anyway, I’ll just settle on one word, Wow. Yep, that'll do.

Beijing Part 2

At about 8am the following morning, a rather uncomfortable minibus, packed with American backpackers, and with the heating up far too high, took us to the Mutianyu section of the Great Wall of China. A cable-car (which did feel a bit rickety, and Lisa didn’t like at all) took us up to the actual wall. The sun eventually came out and we started to appreciate where we actually were. Like many things in China, it is the scale of the thing which is pretty breath-taking, and it is one of the ‘wonders of the world’ after all – but also, it is just a very long wall, and you can only be so impressed. Perhaps the real highlight was the toboggan slide which we used to get down to the bottom. Inevitably we were accosted by market traders who tried (successfully, I might add) to flog us some souvenir t-shirts and silk robes and hats we didn’t realise we needed. Ha.

That evening back in Beijing we hit the famous outdoor market at Donghuamen to see some crazy Chinese food. We weren’t disappointed. Scorpions, stag beetles, spiders, sea urchins, snakes – as long as you can fry it, you could eat it. I warmed up with a simple spring roll and some fish balls before hitting the snake meat (nice – similar to squid) and snake skin (I can’t be sure, but it seemed reminiscent of trying to eat a foreskin – chewy and rank). Martin took it one step further and tried a fried scorpion – he seemed to quite like it, and I was a bit disappointed I couldn’t bring myself to join him. I felt truly out-manned. 

Sanlitun, Beijing’s western district, was our location for the evening’s drinking. Cue: more Tsing Tao, Tequila, and Long Island Ice Teas (the expat’s favourite tipple, it would seem – perhaps because in Asia they make them so ludicrously strong). We hopped between three or four places before ending at a decent place called ‘Tree’ – a nice expat bar (located with help from the Lonely Planet book), with a Blues Trio sat in the corner playing Doors covers (props to the dope harmonica player!), and watched Martin get quite impressively drunk. Me and Lisa found some excellent post-booze street food (some kind of bacon and lettuce wrapped in egg-fried bread), before heading back to our hostels, nicely-pickled English tourists.

 

So, our last day started quite late, and after brunch - where me and Lisa embarrassed ourselves buying far too many dishes in a Chinese Cafe - we headed to the Temple of Heaven. This was every bit as impressive as the Forbidden City but with a far more spacious, laid-back feel: the Temple of Heaven is actually about half a dozen temples, some of which are mostly ‘outdoors’, spread across a huge park covered in trees and lots of little paths – it used to be the place where Emperors would pray to God for good harvests. 

Its spiritual vibe certainly lingers on: we saw some older people doing some kind of Tai Chi crossed with drunk-uncle dancing – I don’t think it was meant to be funny, but we certainly all watched, bemused, laughing at this weird spectacle for a good ten minutes. 

“My mother thinks you are handsome, can I take a picture of you please?” said one girl to me as we wandered round. A similar thing happened a few times that day. Strange. You’d they didn’t often see effeminate Englishmen in Beijing, or something. So I politely obliged, of course.

Before I left Beijing I was eager to do some shopping. I need more clothes (as my co-workers in Korea often remind me), and I had heard there were some markets in Beijng where you could pick up some bargains, if you knew how to haggle. The most famous place, Silk Street, was closed due to the New Year holiday, so we got a cab to Yashow Clothes Market, and within an hour I had two pairs of (designer/imitation: delete as appropriate) jeans and two pairs of (branded/fake: ditto) trainers, for about £50. I probably could have paid less than that even, but the market traders really know how to squeeze money out of guilt-ridden westerners (“You are so handsome, English gentleman” “Pleeeease...A few more Yuan, because it is New Year, sir” “You drive a hard bargain, clever handsome man” etc. etc.). And what the hell, even if I did pay too much, and these clothes all fall apart within a week, at least I alleviated some of my middle class shame.

One last meal back in the hutongs and the food was really good (and cheap!), but don’t ask me what we ate because with all-chinese menus, it was a case of pointing to the pictures, which caused some amusement when I accidently ordered Dog – sparking a philosophical debate with Lisa about whether it’s any different eating Dog to eating Pig or Cow, blah blah blah. Anyway, Rover, Max, Buddy, whatever your name was, if it’s any consolation, you tasted good.

We said our goodbyes to Jo and Martin, which was a wee bit sad - we had had been a pretty damn good tourist-posse over the last four days, and it will be a long time til we meet again. After another week in China, Martin was to go back to Leeds and Jo to Taiwan to teach English for a year. Oh Well. I was thankful for a great time in China’s Capital with some good friends – there were many, many things we didn’t have time to see, but what we did see really was impressive and truly memorable. 

Beijing is a cool place, and, forgive the cliché, but it really is full of paradoxes – in some ways it is accessible, modern and open, and at other times it feels dirty, backward and almost dangerous. Like the rest of China, it will never be truly westernised, because it doesn’t have to – Beijing doesn’t need western tourists, but if you ever get the chance to check out Beijing, do it, you need it!

(Oh yeah, I lied about the few hundred words thing didn't I - Sorry. Sue me.)

Beijing Part 1

This is really a city that deserves a few words written about it. Although like my trip (which was only for 4 nights), this blog will be (too) brief. I hereby promise not to detain you for more than a couple of hundred words.

The first thing that struck me and Lisa as we took our taxi from the airport was how quiet the streets were. This is a huge sprawling city with a population of over 17 million, which is renowned for its  perpetual bustle of bikes, cars, tuk-tuks and people. But this was Chinese New Year – a time when people leave the city to head to their families in their hometowns – and so the streets resembled the UK on Christmas day: shops were shuttered, traffic was sparse, and the atmosphere was almost disappointingly calm. 

In contrast to Seoul, the architecture is broadly low-rise, especially in the old parts of the city which are made up of traditional hutongs -  small, narrow alleyways, flanked by one or two-storey buildings (Apparently this is a relic of imperial rule – Beijing’s old emperors used to forbid anyone from building anything  that might rival their palace as the tallest thing in the city). There are few advertising boards, and at night, the neon glare for which Seoul and other big Asian cities like Shanghai or Tokyo are famous, is replaced by an eerie darkness in much of the city. Beijing appears dark, slightly old-fashioned and possessing an undercurrent of potential danger.

But even at night, I couldn’t describe Beijing as sleepy. Fireworks are, of course, one of China’s most famous national inventions, and around Chinese New Year they can be seen, and heard, everywhere and all the time. Men, women, young and old, can be found in alleys, on any stretch of pavement, even in the middle of main roads (with traffic passing only yards away) - setting off fire-crackers, burning sparklers or firing a myriad of colours into the night sky. COOL!

The lack of people in the city turned out to be a blessing.  We never had to queue for the subways (which at 2 yuan a trip – 20p – are fantastically cheap), and a taxi ride (that is, if you could find a taxi) were quick (and, mostly, very cheap – we generally paid just over £1 for a ten-minute ride).

Our first night was spent meeting our friends Jo and Martin, and trawling the restaurants and bars around the hutongs, enjoying nice Chinese beer like Yanjing or Tsing Tao– such a pleasure to drink some decent brews after the recurring disappointment of Korean piss-lager like Cass or Hite. We also took in some cocktails and I bought a bottle of Baijiu from a corner shop – Chinese rice wine which tastes and smells really fucking strong BECAUSE IT IS! It certainly helped keep me warm as we wandered the streets watching the craziness of Chinese New Year unfold. We decided we ought to go to Tiananmen Square for midnight, thinking that as the centre of the city that would be the best place to see the fireworks, but actually the best place was outside a hotel just around the corner from Tiananmen Square, where we chanced upon a hotel whose staff seemed to supply an endless number of fireworks onto the street and kept us coo-ing and ah-ing for half an hour or more as we watched the sky dissolve into explosions.

Chinese New Year’s day we went back to Tiananmen Square, and you could really appreciate the beauty and scale of the place by daylight (and a very nice day it was too!). For the first time we were accompanied by real crowds of people, almost exclusively Chinese, checking out their capital’s most famous public space. Surrounded by grand government buildings, huge, identical red flags, and thousands of people taking posing for photos, the place felt huge, full of history and importance. It was also probably the only part of Beijing that reminded you that you’re in a communist country – security was tight (our bags were scanned on entry, and CCTV cameras were everywhere) and Mao’s body is buried here in a huge, overbearing Mausoleum (you can still go and see his corpse if you want to, but sadly it closed when we were there), whilst his huge portrait stares across the whole scene.

After haggling for a few tacky souvenirs from the mass of street hawkers, we passed into the Forbidden City, and compared to the distinctly Modernist grandeur of Tiananmen, it felt like stepping back in time. This vast complex was built by the Emperors about 600 years ago, and is remarkably still pretty much in one piece. For about £4, you can wander around the several gates, palaces, courtyards and gardens for hours. Amazing stuff, and again, photo-op heaven.

From The Forbidden City the flow of human traffic leads to Jangching Park, which is basically a man-made hill and pretty much the only high place in central Beijing (this city is very flat), from which we could review our day’s route, and, accompanied by a few cans of Tsing Tao, we saw the sunset over Chinese New year’s Day and see the start of yet another night of fireworks.

A short cab ride took us to a famous and very swanky restaurant for Peking Duck, and after gorging ourselves on the city’s famous dish (prepared and dished up by an expert waiter at the table – nice touch), we returned to our hostels by subway for a well-earned rest. Tomorrow would be an early start.

Obamalamadingdong

I came home from teaching at about 11.30am, and due to the time-difference, and the hi-quality stream I found on the CNN website, I sat down to watch Obama’s State of The Union address – apparently the most-watched 'political programme' on US Televison every year.

It’s a curious event. Being a politics-junky, I have seen it before of course, but I couldn’t stand to watch George W Bush’s SOTU speeches for more than five minutes without becoming incensed, so this was the first time I really gave it my full attention. Of course, Bush is an easy act to follow, in so many ways. Obama is, for a politician at least, a photogenic TV personality and is easy to watch, and he’s also blessed with a talent for making speeches (which he has obviously nurtured and honed during his time in the US presidential campaign - perhaps the ultimate speech-making academy), so, he was in his element. And for me ,he got the delivery, and the content, just right.

Firstly, the delivery of his speech was engaging and often pretty inspiring, even for a non-american. It reminded me of why he won the election in the first place – the energy and charm which so sparked the imagination back in 2008. Now actually in the White House, having to do the boring work of actually trying to run that  country, he is not so sparkling in his rhetoric, and policy-wise he has disappointed more than once (watering down health care reform, the lack of a decent Green Energy bill, caving in to the Republicans on tax cuts for the rich). And he has failed to impress me during recent Press conferences, where he has looked tired and frustrated (but then, in his job, wouldn’t you?). 

But the big set-pieces speeches like this, really are his forte. So he reassured the country that America still has the biggest economy in the world (even if he didn’t add “not for long!”), that the States are the most popular place “on Earth” for foreign students to come to, and his is the country with the most productive workers, and most inventive business leaders. Feelgood platitudes abounded, but during a recession, and war, (and amid the slow-realisation that “it’s China’s world now”), I guess that it’s the job of a leader to try and cheer people up. 

The best part for me was when he stressed the importance of the State to creating a decent economic environment – a point which seems obvious to many, but for hardline republicans, they need reminding that government can often be the solution, not ‘the problem’, as their hero Ronald Reagan used to argue. He cited the example of the Internet - which has of course, revolutionised, well, just about everything,- was initially created by the US Military with taxpayers’ money. He went on to argue that things like non-carbon energy, modernising america’s woeful rail system, and improving education will all require the government to intervene (and, horror of horrors, spend taxes – eek!). I liked the passage where he encouraged "any young person wanting to make a difference in the life of our nation, to become a teacher" and added “Your country needs you”. How refreshing to hear such patriotic prose employed in the context of teachers and education, rather than soldiers and war. 

Of course, it wasn’t all great. He failed to mention the words ‘climate change’ once, and perhaps the biggest cheer was for his promise to be tough on illegal immigrants. Yawn. And of course, it’s easy to be cynical and say that, like any politician, he is all words and no action. But words really do matter, words are the  very stuff of politics, and leadership. And after the drubbing his party got at the congressional elections last year, it would be easy for Obama to suck up to the Republicans and only tell them what they wanted to hear. He avoided the easy route, yet also managed to unite the congressmen and women before him who are so often bitterly partisan and contemptuous of each other (at least for an hour or so, before they revert to taking chunks our of each other).

And most of all, he reminded me of his greatest quality: for all his faults, he is not George W Bush and he never will be.