Beijing: The Summer Palace

(This is part of a series of posts on our recent trip to China. We'll be posting throughout the summer as we bum around at or near home.)

A short post for a short visit: our trip to Beijing's famous Summer Palace was cut short by intense humidity, high heat, and dense smog.

The Summer Palace

The Summer Palace, located on the outskirts of modern-day Beijing, was the major country retreat of the late Qing Dynasty from 1750 on. In the popular imagination, the palace is forever associated with Empress Dowager Cixi, commonly know as the Dragon Lady, who ruled China as de facto empress from 1835-1908. She was a complex and ruthless woman, but then you have to be if you want to go from concubine to empress, which she did. In 1888, Cixi expanded the palace to its present size by diverting funds from the Beiyang Fleet, China's modernized naval force, thus indirectly contributing to China's disastrous defeat in the First Sino-Japanese War. This defeat in turn fed the 1911 revolution in China which toppled the Qing, China's last imperial dynasty.

However, with the Summer Palace, or the "Garden of Nurtured Harmony" as it's called in Chinese, Cixi did leave behind one of the world's most spectacular gardens, a testament to the enormous wealth of imperial China even in its waning days.

The palace is dominated by two features: the sprawling Kunming Lake and the looming Longevity Hill. Both are man-made--Longevity Hill is made from the earth excavated during the construction of Kunming Lake.

Like most visitors, we entered from the southern end of the palace and crossed the lake in a motorboat done up to look like a 19th-century passenger barge.
Visibility was unfortunately very low: even in the heavily-edited photo below, it's hard to make out any details from about 200-250 yards.
One of the first things you see upon entering the palace from the south is its famous Seventeen-Arch Bridge, which connects a small man-made island to the rest of the park.
The centerpiece of the palace is a complex of temples, towers, and halls on a north-south axis from the lake up to the peak of Longevity Hill. Notice how thick the haze looks in the shot below, even after some tricky photography and some even trickier editing.
We declined an offer to climb to the Temple of Buddhist Virtue--in addition to the oppressive heat, we were also worn out from our Great Wall trek the previous day (upcoming post)--but we did tool around the base of the hill, which offers two of the Summer Palace's best-known sights.

The first is a riverboat-shaped terrace made out of stone, which is probably the most-photographed building in the Summer Palace--and one of the most easily recognizable.
The second is the Long Corridor, a covered walkway that runs along most of the lake's perimeter, allowing residents to enjoy the lake views (when available, of course) and move between buildings without getting drenched by one of Beijing's swift summer rains.The Long Corridor has been fully restored for the upcoming Olympic Games, and is full of pretty little details, as seen in the photo below of the interior roof of one of the junctions.
The grounds off to the side of the Long Corridor also feature some beautiful garden spaces. Below, you can see a typical Chinese landscaped garden scene, with its carefully planned sense of natural seclusion.

Correction: Yongle's Tomb

For those of you who get your posts by e-mail: I just corrected the story of Yongle's spirit tablet at the end of our previous post.

Beijing: Ming Tombs -- Yongle's Tomb

(This is part of a series of posts on our recent trip to China. We'll be posting throughout the summer as we bum around at or near home.)

CORRECTION: Nana was apparently listening much more closely than I was: I've fixed the story of Yongle's spirit tablet--see the end of this post.

We're branching out now to some sights just outside Beijing: in the coming days, you'll see posts about the Great Wall and the Summer Palace, too. Remaining Beijing sites include the Olympic venues and Dongyue Temple.

Changling Tomb

Tourists usually visit the Ming Tombs complex as the second part of a Great Wall day-trip: the tombs are roughly halfway between Beijing and the nearest stretch of the Wall. However, in true Ming Dynasty style, the tombs are too many and too widespread to visit in one afternoon. 13 Ming emperors are buried in the region (that's Ming emperors #3-16, for those of you keeping score at home--the first two Ming emperors had their capitals at Nanjing in the south).
Of these thirteen tombs, none is more popular than the tomb of Yongle ("yong-luh"), the third emperor of the Ming Dynasty, who moved the capital to Beijing. He ruled from 1360-1424, and his reign saw the construction of the Forbidden Palace, the construction of the Temple of Heaven, the final subjugation of the preceding dynasty (the Yuan, who, being Mongols, had fled to Mongolia), a major expansion of Chinese territory, the completion of the Yongle encyclopedia, and feudal China's only major attempt at world exploration. In fact, some hypothesize that explorers under Yongle mapped parts of the Americas and circumnavigated the globe in 1421-1423, though the evidence is circumstantial, and the Chinese records that could have proven the hypothesis were destroyed by Yongle's successor, whose advisors didn't want the costly expeditions to continue.

But for all his hard work and dedication, he gets the biggest of the Ming tombs.

Yongle's tomb, also known as the Changling (or "long mausoleum") tomb, follows the traditional feng shui layout. There's a mountain at the back (north) and the main gate at the front (south). Behind the main gate is a courtyard and another gate, followed by a ceremonial throne room/worship hall, followed by an inner courtyard. The emperor's spirit tablet is kept at the back of the inner courtyard; his ashes are buried under a large mound behind that. (For a scaled-down version of the same architecture, see our post on the burial mound of Korea's Yongle, King Sejong.)


As you can see below, the architecture of Yongle's tomb is very similar to the architecture of the Forbidden City. The yellow-tiled roof is a special signature of the Ming Dynasty, and was a symbol of Chinese imperial power from the 15th century on.

This is the gate at the north end of the first courtyard.This is a bell tower in the first courtyard.
And here is the ceremonial throne room. Are you getting Forbidden City flashbacks yet?Now, the throne room is no longer used for ceremonial purposes. Instead, it's been turned into a small museum dedicated to Yongle's accomplishments. Unfortunately, most of the signs are in Chinese--though a few exhibits need no explanation.

For example: here's a giant statue of the man himself.Plus the obligatory close-up. (Sorry about the light--it was dark in there!)And this, ladies and gentlemen, is what East Asians traditionally thought of when they thought of a crown:The Korean kings had them, too--but they weren't allowed to wear as many beads. By treaty. Seriously.

And finally, at the very back of the tomb is Yongle's spirit tablet. (There's actually more to the tomb, but visitors aren't allowed to walk on the burial mound.) The soldiers of a subsequent dynasty purportedly tried to burn the tablet, but succeeded only in firing the stone to its present brilliant red. Of course, why anyone would try to burn a stone is beyond me . . . and upon close inspection, I'm pretty sure the stone has been painted. (Actually, the communists tried to burn the tablet during the Cultural Revolution and settled for painting the thing red when they failed. No word yet on Mick Jagger's plans to paint it black. Stay tuned.)
Just ask that kid there--he looks like he has a pretty good view.

Beijing: I tong, you tong, we all tong for hutong!

(This is part of a series of posts on our recent trip to China. We'll be posting throughout the summer as we bum around at or near home.)

Every visit to Beijing, I'm told, should include a tour of one of the city's traditional hutong neighborhoods (more detail below). So Shasha, Nana's host sister and our dedicated guide for the second half of our week in Beijing, arranged for us to visit one on the northern edge of Beihai Park, in northwest Beijing.

Beihai Lakes

The first stop of our hutong excursion involved a stroll along one of several artificial (or artificially-enlarged) lakes in the northwestern quarter of Beijing. (Forgive me--I'm not sure which one this is. There are a bunch.)
The lakes march off in a long string from the Forbidden City to the emperor's Summer Palace (upcoming post) further to the northwest, so that the emperor, if he so chose, could actually travel between residences by boat. Historically, the lakeside properties were owned by some of the wealthiest people in the country, a tradition that continues today (see our fleeting glimpse of Deng Xiaoping's daughter's house below).

Today, the lakes are lined in most places with trendy bars, catering especially to expats and embassy folks. We declined to stop for a morning drink.

We did, however, stop for photographs. Here's Nana doing her best Tintin impression outside Lotus Blue. (A special shout-out to the Massie clan, at Nana's request.)
And, um, here's Nana with a giant yellow duck. Outside a Peking duck restaurant, mind you. Why is it considered good marketing to anthropomorphize the thing you're serving for lunch?
The Hutong

Anyway. Our stroll brought us to a (heavily restored) traditional shopping district at the edge of the hutong. This, like most of the hutong that haven't simply been bulldozed, has been cleaned up and repainted in preparation for the Olympic Games.


The hutong are an interesting phenomenon in city planning and in the history of Beijing. The word translates roughly to "neighborhood," and can be used to refer to a city administrative unit, but in popular usage it refers to traditional neighborhoods with low buildings and narrow streets. Originally, the hutong were formed by joining packed-together courtyard houses along a narrow alleyway, often interspersed with small businesses. These original hutong generally ran east-to-west, with main gates at either ends, and normally had one or two north-south alleyways forming, in some cases, a few small internal plazas. In the Beihai district, the original hutong were also very wealthy, sitting as they did on some prime lakefront property.

Over time, though, unplanned (and generally lower-class) hutong grew up around and in support of the older hutong, offering lodging for servants, retail, professional services, etc. Though most of these newer hutong did include a staight (if narrow) east-west thoroughfare, the other alleys were a tangled maze, and today most people associate the hutong with these crooked, narrow streets.

To give you an idea, here's a narrow east-west passage in one of the hutong that sprung up around Deng Xiaoping's daughter's place.
Pedicab Tour
The Beihai district of Beijing is famous for its lakeside pedicab drivers, who are themselves famously aggressive--walk along the lake for more than 20 yards and you're bound to be accosted by someone. Shasha kindly handled the details and scored us a nice, long ride along the lake and through one of the wealthier hutong in the area.
Here are a couple short videos of the ride.



I have to admit, the whole pedicab thing was a little odd--sitting there with the breeze in our hair while this poor sweaty guy lugged us around. At least Nana was able to have a conversation with him, which made it feel less like we were treating him like a pack animal. And, of course, we paid him well.

Anyway, a few images from the ride:

First, here's a shot of the entrance to the prince's residence. This is also in Deng Xiaoping's daughter's neighborhood--the neighborhood is still home to some of the most desirable addresses in Beijing.Second, here's an old shirtless guy practicing martial arts beside the road. Because, awesome. (See this post for more on senior recreation in Beijing.)

200th Post! And, hidden Tiananmen Square post

Turns out that last post was our 200th. Cool! I wonder if we'll be able to keep the same pace this year.

Also, those of you who don't get School of ROK by e-mail (you can sign up at right) may have missed Nana's post on Tiananmen Square and Mao's Mausoleum (here).

For some reason, Blogger lists posts according to the date and time when they were first saved, not the date and time they were first published, so that if you work on a post over two different days, the post may not publish to the top of the page.

Tech Support Note: Videos and E-mail

A quick note: many of you receive School of ROK updates by e-mail, which is totally cool. However, e-mail updates don't support video--and that last post was all video. So if it didn't make sense to you, take a peek at our main page: www.schoolofrok.blogspot.com.

Beijing: Pensioners--Getting Out, Getting Fit

(This is part of a series of posts on our recent trip to China. We'll be posting throughout the summer as we bum around at or near home.)

Wow, when was the last time we put up two substantive posts in a day? Though this one is less substantive than the last post on the Temple of Heaven--just a quick review of all the neat things Chinese pensioners, housewives, and other folks who are free during the workday do for fun. Seriously, you can find hordes of older folks out enjoying themselves and getting exercise in almost any public green space in Beijing. Most of the videos below are from the Temple of Heaven, though the last is from Jingshan Park.

Tai Chi, a blend of meditation and stylized martial arts.


Badminton (this is also big in Korea). My apologies for the jerky video--in retrospect, I probably should have stopped walking as I filmed.


Mass calisthenics, complete with groovy soundtrack. (By the way--"calisthenics" apparently has an "h" in it. Who knew?)


Ballroom dancing, without the ballroom.


Don't know what to call this--some kind of cool dance that involves keeping a ball stationary on a curved racquet while performing a number of elaborate moves.

On a side note, these ladies were really sweet when we asked if we could video them. And, like most of the people we met, they were really impressed with how well Nana could speak Chinese!

Beijing: the Temple of Heaven

(This is part of a series of posts on our recent trip to China. We'll be posting throughout the summer as we bum around at or near home.)
Along with the Forbidden City (previous post) and Tiananmen Square (upcoming post), the Temple of Heaven is one of Beijing's most recognizable landmarks. As mentioned in our previous post, the Forbidden City, as the empire's main palace, was the ceremonial center of imperial power. The Temple of Heaven was the religious center of imperial power: it was the site of the central rites of the Chinese imperial religion, which was a mix of Daoism, ancestor worship, and prehistoric heaven worship, which you'll learn more about in an upcoming post on Dongyue Temple, a fascinating Daoist/court religion site in eastern Beijing.

For now, it's enough to know that Daoism (which Blogger doesn't recognize as the mainland-Chinese alternate spelling of Taoism--more information on the spelling controversies here), or at least the hybridized version of Daoism backed by the imperial court, features two parallel and interlocking hierarchies: one representing the order of the physical world, and one representing the order of spiritual world. What's unique and interesting about the belief system is that there is almost always a human who outranks any given deity. For example, a provincial governor outranks the city gods of his province, and the emperor outranks the provincial gods. Also, people are only allowed to worship the deities directly above them in the hierarchy--at least, without help from a priest or an official. At the bottom are the common people, who are only allowed to worship their lowly household gods. At the top is the Jade Emperor (almost always, depending on whom you ask), who is the ruler of heaven, and whom only the Son of Heaven (aka, the emperor, and second-in-command in the order of all creation) could worship directly. The emperor did so at the Temple of Heaven--along with the thousands of servants, priests, and courtiers who made up his entourage, of course.

The Temple of Heaven was originally built in the 15th century by the emperor Yongle, the same fellow responsible for the original Forbidden City. It sits on a north-south axis in the middle of an enormous arboretum, which is now a public park. It's central building is also its most iconic: the Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests, where the emperor prayed for (surprise!) good harvests, upon which the wealth of the entire empire depended. You can see us in front of the Hall below.


I have to say, of all the many examples of Chinese monumental architecture we saw on our trip, the Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests was the most photogenic--though I might give the title for most beautiful to the Grand Mosque in Xian (upcoming post). Too bad I had to contend with some impressive smog.
You'll notice that the Hall is perfectly round, like many of the other buildings in the Temple of Heaven complex, whereas most traditional Chinese architecture is rectangular or square. There is a reason for this: in Daoism, the circle is seen as a symbol of heaven, and the square (or the right angle, at least) as a symbol of earth. These two symbols are joined throughout the Temple of Heaven--the round Hall above sits on three round terraces which themselves sit on a huge raised square plaza--reflecting the Temple's function as a place where heaven meets earth. You'll also notice that unlike in the Forbidden City, the roof tiles here are blue, the color of heaven, not gold, the color of the (later) emperors.

You can't go inside the Hall, which is understandable but still a bit disappointing, though an exhibit in one of the nearby buildings gives you a pretty good idea of what it looks like inside: here's a photo of the view looking straight up from the center.
South of the Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests is a long raised promenade called the Vermillion Steps Bridge (below), which links the Hall to the Imperial Vault of Heaven, where the spirit tablets corresponding to the Gods of Heaven were kept.
As might be expected of the home of heaven on earth, the Vault and its surroundings are mostly circular, including the perfectly round Echo Wall encircling the Vault compound, which can transmit even a whisper along its inside circumference.
Just south of the Vault, then, is the Circular Mound Altar, a raised circular platform left open to the elements (below).
As you can see from this shot looking north from the Altar (below), the Vault was remarkably close-by in a city famous for its immense distances. This is because the emperor had to carry the heavenly spirit tablets from the Vault to the Altar whenever he wanted to make an offering, and the slightest mishap during the ceremonial procession--and by "slight mishap," we're talking a sneeze, or an ill-favored pigeon, or someone slightly out of step--could be seen as an affront to the gods, and thus likely to bring down a plague or a famine. Yet another reason why it probably sucked to be emperor, even though the emperor was by a long sight the wealthiest guy in the world. So in short, the Altar was serious business, as was the Temple of Heaven as a whole. Today, though, the site is not without its opportunities for levity. I mean, just check out this weird gargoyle--since when do gargoyles wear sunglasses?

Tienanmen Square and Chairman Mao's Mausoleum

Tienanmen Square is big. How big? According to Wikipedia, it's the largest open urban square in the world, at 40.5 hectares. What's a hectare? Danged if I know, but what you see behind us here is a little less than half of it.


Behind us is the Forbidden City, which Justin blogged about in an earlier post. Ahead of us is the Mausoleum of Mao Zedong - the literal Chinese translation is "Chairman Mao Memorial Hall." We simply referred to it as the "Maosoleum."


The Maosoleum is closed on Mondays, which torpedoed me the last time I was in China, but was open this time. We actually found that we didn't have to wait long - we spent more time crossing the street and dropping our worldly goods in the bag check than we did waiting to get into the building. Wait, bag drop? You got it. Security at the Maosoleum was tight, and cameras are strictly forbidden (Wikipedia has a theory about that here). After the bag drop, you also have to go through a metal detector. Word has it that there have been a couple of attempts on Mao's body, including a rock tossed at the coffin.

So line for the bag drop, bag drop, line for the scanner, scan, line for the museum. During this time, some people popped out of line to buy flowers to set in front of the statue in the Maosoleum - if I recall correctly, they were yellow roses. While checking for the type of flowers on the internet, I ran across suggestions that they may be artificial flowers, and that when they're collected from in front of the statue, they're taken back out front and sold again. This strikes me as frankly kind of genius.

You go in, shuffling quietly in line, past a big carved quote by Mao on the main wall and a statue of Mao where the flower-purchasers step out of line and set the flowers out, often with a respectful bow. Then, you have a quiet, dark room with multiple layers of dense glass walls, and behind those walls is a coffin with a glass top, and in there is Chairman Mao. I wish I could say that my first reaction was something profound and reflective of Mao's significant role in world history and the shaping of a nation, but it actually was "Wow, Shasha was right. He is bright orange." For real. If you ever go, you'll feel the same way.

But then I did get a grip and have some profound thoughts, which unfortunately I can't remember four weeks later, and then we popped out the other side. Some people online complain at the speed with which you have to move through (there is even a rumor, at the same link as above, that it's actually a fake body in the coffin and they hustle you through so you can't tell) but I didn't mind the pace because there's not that much to see. There are, however, plenty of things to buy at the exit, ranging from cigarette lighters to giant desk trophies, which kind of takes away from the solemnity of the site. Still, overall, I recommend it.

Finally, this one goes out to YPMB readers:



"Another! Chinese Communist Party! First down! What?"

Beijing: the Forbidden City and Jingshan Park

(This is part of a series of posts on our recent trip to China. We'll be posting throughout the summer as we bum around at or near home.)

With the all-important food posts (1, 2, 3, 4) out of the way, let's move on to some of the sights. We'll be posting them out of order, so try to to be confused if the posts don't match what you know about our itinerary.

The Forbidden City
The Forbidden City (or the Palace Museum, as it's known to locals) is, surprise surprise, a UNESCO World Heritage Site and one of every tourist's first stops in Beijing. But the mobs of foreigners don't make it any less worth your time--mostly because they're there for good reason, as the Forbidden City is one of the most impressive sights I've seen in my life.

First, some background. The Forbidden City, besides being an essential Wonder of the World in Sid Meier's Civilization III, was also the Ming and Qing imperial palace, in service from 1420 to 1924. The place in its current form dates to around 1800, when a Qing expansion project was completed, though many of the structures in the current Forbidden City are older.

It is the world's largest surviving palace complex, and the overwhelming impression it leaves is of its immensity. Situated smack in the center of the city, and bordering Tiananmen Square to the south, the Forbidden City sprawls over a huge swatch of downtown Beijing. The current Forbidden City, which doesn't include the imperial courtyard gardens that were opened and paved over to make Tiananmen Square, is a rectangle almost 1 km long and 3/4 km wide. It takes about 30 minutes to walk from end to end without stopping, and exploring the whole complex (or at least the whole of what's open to the public) would take days.

The palace, like most monumental structures in East Asia, is laid out according to the principles of Feng shui, facing south with the main gate at the south end of the complex and with a hill our mountain at the back (north). Most visitors enter through the southern gate of the complex (above), which you'll learn more about in an upcoming post on Tiananmen Square. (Yes, that's a giant portrait of Mao on the front.) This gate isn't even technically the front door--two gates on the southern side of Tiananmen Square, almost another whole kilometer from the gate above, were the traditional entrances to the Imperial City.
The gate below, known as the Meridian Gate, marks the outer limit of the truly "forbidden" part of the Forbidden City: during the Qing dynasty, no commoners--and essentially no foreigners--were allowed past this gate. Violators were killed on the spot, as were any commoners unfortunate enough to glimpse the Emperor as he processed in or out of the gate--looking directly at the Emperor was a big no-no, seeing as the Emperor ranked only one step below the most powerful god.
Fortunately, the emperor wasn't home. There was, however, quite a strong military presence about--though understandably so, seeing as this is Beijing's greatest cultural landmark and a centerpiece of advertising for the upcoming Olympic Games.
Beyond the Meridian Gate lies the Gate of Supreme Harmony, across another cobblestoned expanse. The Gate of Supreme Harmony marks the entrance to the Outer Court, a series of gates, buildings, and courtyards used for ceremonial purposes. As you'll see, they're build mainly to impress, and they do a darned good job of it.
Between the Meridian Gate and the Gate of Supreme Harmony, a small man-made stream runs through the courtyard. This is a common feature of feng shui architecture. The stream is crossed by three bridges: one for the emperor and two for everyone else.
Don't tell the emperor that we stopped for a photo on his bridge!

Beyond the Gate of Supreme Harmony lies the centerpiece of the palace, the Hall of Supreme Harmony.
The Hall of Supreme Harmony, in addition to being the tallest building (by statute) in downtown Beijing and the oldest surviving wood structure in China, was the emperor's ceremonial throne room. Originally, this was where the emperor would hold court, though eventually the Hall was reserved for major events, such as coronations.

Symbolically, the Hall was the center of imperial power in the Ming and Qing dynasties. That didn't save it from the ravages of imperialism, though. The cauldron below, one of hundreds used around the palace to store water for fire-fighting purposes, used to be covered with gold, which was taken by the British and the French. Fire also took its toll on the Palace: the Hall of Supreme Harmony alone was destroyed by fire a dozen times in its history.
This fellow fared better (it probably helped to be made of bronze): one of the stylized lion-dragons guarding the Hall of Supreme Harmony, enjoying a light-hearted moment with its cub.
Beyond the Hall of Supreme Harmony lies the Hall of Central Harmony and the Hall of Preserving Harmony (below). These buildings mark the transition from the Outer Court, which was the public wing of the palace, to the Inner Court, where the imperial family and its numerous people lived. The first was used as a place for the emperor to rest before and after ceremonies--remember, when you're emperor, going anywhere involves a giant procession, so if you're tired or hungry, you don't want to have to process a half a kilometer back to your pad for a nap. The second is a rehearsal space--court rituals were bewilderingly complicated--and the site of the last stage of the imperial examinations, which all public officials in feudal China's massive bureaucracy had to take.
Beyond the Hall of Preserving Harmony is the Inner Court, some of which is closed to the public today, but most of which has been converted to a museum on life in the Forbidden City. Below, you can see a replica of the empress's sedan, which would be carried by servants. If you look closely, you can see an ornamental phoenix on each corner--the phoenix was the symbol of the empress, and the dragon the symbol of the emperor. Together, they infest souvenir shops throughout central Beijing.
Here's a replica of the emperor's coat. As you may have noticed, the emperors liked yellow--it was a symbol of the imperial family.
And here's a replica (notice another pattern? many of the originals are either in storage or in Western collections) of the ancestral spirit tablet the emperor would have kept in his quarters for morning and evening prayers.
Further back in the Inner Court is the emperor's own personal arboretum (don't worry, it wasn't his only personal arboretum--see Jingshan Park below or the Summer Palace in an upcoming post). It's a pretty space, though the emperors often shunned it--they were afraid of the possibility of assassins in the trees.
Jingshan Park

The northern (back) gate of the Forbidden City opens up to a view of Jingshan Park, which Nana and I explored on one of our free days in Beijing.
Jingshan Park consists of an artificial hill built from the material excavated in digging the Forbidden Palace's giant moat. The hill was built to satisfy feng shui requirements: it was seen as good luck to have a hill at the back (north) of your house and a river or stream near the front (south--see above). It has the added benefit of being the highest point of elevation in the city, affording some of the best views of the palace.
This was also where, while shooting the video below, I was attacked by the world's worst pickpocket. (Not really.)


The park served as the emperor's spiritual retreat. It's dotted with little Buddhist pavilions, though most of the Buddhas are gone, having long since been pilfered by the British and the French.
Below, you can see some long views of the city: first, Beihei Park to the north; then the Jingshan Park buildings.

And, just to make sure we end on a happy note: below you can see the tree where the last emperor of the Ming Dynasty hanged himself. After the Forbidden City had been overrun, this quiet corner of Jingshan Park was his end.That's all for now. Stay tuned for some more of Beijing's Greatest Hits, including: The Great Wall! The Temple of Heaven! The Summer Palace (through an apocalyptic haze)!