8/10

Temple of Heaven

Panjiayuan market

The fine drizzle of the morning gives way to torrential rain and I am glad I took a taxi to Panjiayuan flea market. I am even gladder it is undercover. It offers an astonishing array of tat. It is paradise for the marketlovers among us: I imagine Lindy would think she had died and gone to heaven. For me, choice implies indecision. How could I choose from among the Buddha heads, beads, porcelain, carved wood, posters, paintings, chopsticks and many other more less tempting bits of rubbish? I did see some small Chairman Mao statuettes that I liked but no one was tending the stall. So I bought a painting for Lindy, which is probably destined for our toilet (maybe even the downstairs one).

Beijing back street

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Temple of Heaven

Decorated rafters at the Temple of Heaven

Temple of Heaven

Frieze at the Temple of Heaven

Entrance to altar for worshipping heaven

The central altar at the Temple of Heaven

Temple of Heaven

It is strange to be able to walk the path reserved for the emperor at the Temple of Heaven. You expect to see a statue of Ozymandias among the cypresses. The temple is gorgeous, a worthy place to worship heaven. It’s only a pity you cannot walk inside. What is peculiar to realise about the sights here is that few are in use, whereas in Europe, most, particularly religious ones, are still inhabited or functional. Westminster Abbey is, after all, a church, and so is St Paul’s. And if our palaces are not inhabited, they are at least open.

Temple of Heaven

Doorway at Temple of Heaven

Decorated doorway at the Temple of Heaven

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Tiantan Lu

Beijing — and other Chinese cities are nearly as bad — is a walker’s nightmare. Pavements come and go, are sometimes blocked rather than adorned by trees, are bike parks, places of business and dumps for building materials. The paving can be uncomfortable or impossible to walk on. In many streets, it is easier to walk in the bike lane.

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So when I am walking back from Jingshan Park, I see Jing, the girl who had walked with me the other evening, walking with another guy. I still don’t know what the scam is, but I have seen other girls with other European men around Tiananmen Square, so I guess there is one. I could, I think, be a thief but never a scammer. I do not think I could hold my fellows in such contempt. Because you must surely be contemptuous of them to affect kindness when you mean harm (if only of an economic kind). At least a mugger never pretends to like you but simply expresses power over you, which makes a mugger little worse than the government, which also coerces money from you, and possibly a little better, since the government, like the scammer, pretends to have your interests at heart or to be interested in you, which amount to the same thing.