Unlike Saturday (when I arrived in Beijing mid-day) or Sunday, when H led me around so I wouldn't get lost and was kind enough to let me sleep in, day three was solo day number one, and boy, did I have plans.
The day dawned bright and clear. Blue skies, or what pass for blue skies in Beijing, stretched above my head, banishing the haze for an day. It was crisp and cold, the kind of chill that warms you its winter, but at the same time, teases you with her sunshine. I stepped out of my hostel to find a lady selling some sort of fried dough concoctions outside the small shop next door. Some skillful pointing and hand motions earned me two warm, fried bread items for breakfast. I don't know what they were, but they were cheap and yummy. I turned the corner of our street to find that what had seemed like an empty parking lot in front of a sketchy night club the afternoon before was now transformed into a market. Vendors were crammed into street, selling fresh fruit, fish swimming in buckets, cheap clothing and other various goods. They were lined out on tarps and set up on rickety tables.
One lady had a tarp spread out on the ground; socks and underwear were laid out for sale. She shouted at me, trying to get my attention. I realized that day that the would shout in English, Hello! Hello! Nice price!, trying to get my attention. They rarely knew much English, but everyone was determined.
I didn't stop that day. I was on a mission. I had a city to explore, and my first stop was the Temple of Heaven.
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