Beijing 2

Just found this poem from last year. A snapshot of our brief stay in Beijing, China. It seems like a lifetime ago. It was such a good holiday. Mum, as usual was making friends everywhere and being the life and soul ... Her only complaint ? -  too much rice. 

Beijing

After breakfast at the Hotel Continental,

The orange juice cool, pure,

We venture out, arm in arm- for safety, 

Into bustling, dusty, streets.

A tsunami of noise hits us, makes us draw back.

Traffic - six lanes- hooting horns screeching- engines revving-

Making music with constant tinkling of bells  from bikes 

As they weave through disinterested people,

Who, like squawking seagulls,

Swarm along overflowing pavements...

First impressions of Beijing...

Like debris we are swept unwillingly

In this fast flowing river.

We look up - high rise, anonymous, dirty, grey structures,

Imprison ants whose hope is a fleck of blue,

Remembered.

Beside us as we hurry by, shops 

Selling tea, fans, Chinese hats,

Beckon us,

Aromatic bouquets excite our nostrils.

Finally, in a side street, we take a rest,

In a Japanese Cafe.

They tell us:  "Don't eat the food here, It's mostly dog"

We sip a beer a

nd ponder

How we'll get back to the hotel.