Friday, 26 October 2012 — Today I had a Beijingbelly breakfast. Here it is:
It was SOOO yummyful that I ate it all up!
Then I had a Second Breakfast.
It gave me confidence in using chopsticks!
Then I finished my Second Breakfast. Every last bit of it.
I even had three cups of steaming soybean milk. Mmmm! Good!
It was a good thing I had such a good start to my day because after that, I went out and rode in a tin box:
You could get killed in a tin box. They’re smaller than anything on the road except for a rickshaw or a bicycle, but they go much faster. They weave in and out of traffic on three wheels.
When you’re an author, sometimes you do things that are totally against your better judgment. You eat so much breakfast that you forget what time it is. You’re in a city where you hardly speak the language. You forget to ask where to hail a cab. You forget to ask someone to write down your destination to show your driver. Worse, you need to get to a meeting by 9 o’clock sharp. After standing in the middle of the street with your hand in the air for twenty minutes, you wonder whether you’re missing a secret code or something for hailing a cab in this city where they do everything differently.
So when the driver of the tin box stops and says the fare is 50 yuan, far more than a taxi, you ask no questions, you’re only relieved that he’s ripping you off even though it could be the last ride of your life, and you climb in.