On our last day in Beijing, we were met with clear sunny blue skies, something very rare for the normally hazy capital city.
We surmised that it was the windstorm from the previous night that must’ve cleared the smog out. We had been at the Olympic Park when the unexpected gusts of wind whipped about our faces and through the thin clothes on our backs. It swiftly turned the hot summer day into a frightfully chilly evening.
And just like that windy night, our time in Beijing flew by in a whirlwind of sightseeing, eating, and culture seeking.
We walked in the footsteps of emperors at the Forbidden City and feasted on Peking duck at a restaurant favorite among the locals. We visited a dizzying array of temples, palaces, and imperial gardens. We fought off heckling rickshaw drivers and souvenir sellers trying to earn our business and somehow avoided getting trampled by waves of tour groups at nearly every site we visited. Being a tourist can be tiring, but getting in touch with one’s roots is all in a day’s work and well worth the effort for the world traveler.
Beijing bid us good bye with blue skies, as if to wish us good luck on the rest of our travels through China.