Qingdao

Trip Start Jun 03, 2006
1
108
131
Trip End Ongoing


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Monday, September 10, 2007

My first impressions of Qingdao weren't great: I arrived and immediately felt the need to reach for a sweater, albeit that the evening temperature had only dropped to around 20C. It was a sign of my body's acclimatisation to the seemingly never-ending heat and humidity of Southern China. The following morning, I looked out of the windows of my friend's apartment, and despite his warnings to the contrary was shocked to see the view of the sea I'd hoped for obscured in a thick fug of pollution. I'd been hoping that a trip away from the heavily industrialised concrete jungle of the Pearl River Delta would provide a relief from China's incessant pollution, but it was not to be. True, the pollution in Qingdao is no worse than almost any other populated urban area in China, but I'd been hoping for something better in what had been billed as an idyllic seaside resort. 

However, from that point onward, the city grew on me, and not only because of the famous beer 01. Across Qingdao
01. Across Qingdao
 . Whilst we're on the subject, let's get it out of the way: I've never been able to buy draught beer on a street corner in a plastic bag before, and I'm still not sure I understand quite how it is intended to be served. Dipping hand and glass into the deliciously foaming beer seemed to be a waste, but so did missing the glass as I struggled to pour from the bag!!  The Qingdao brewery and its surrounds are also a total tourist trap, but nonetheless it is a colourful and enjoyable one where quality and enjoyment are not totally sacrificed on the altar of commercialism. I reflected on this as I tried my fourth - or was it fifth - colour beer and embarked on another plate of monkey nuts. 

The undoubted highlight of life in Qingdao is its beaches where each bay seemed to unveil its own unique interaction between humans and the sea. Some, like the flocks of brides and grooms waiting to be photographed like so many helpless seabirds around otherwise charming Badaguan, were quite simply absurd. Elsewhere, the early morning camaraderie and vigorous sporting exercise of the laughing and shouting older generations was inspiring and left me with a big grin on my face for no reason I could easily ascertain. 

However, after a few days pottering around the city, I was left with a single abiding impression: it's Chinese. For a city with a large deep-water port, a colonial history and high levels of multinational investment, Qingdao is unashamedly Chinese. It doesn't appear to be surfing a fashionable wave of international culture, nor are there signs of heavy international marketing or consumerism. Not surprisingly given the geographical location there is a large Korean community, but I was never really aware of their being pre-eminent in any way. This is a local city, lived in by locals and predominantly visited by near neighbours. It is gratifyingly and unashamedly proud of its Chinese-ness, right down to the taxi drivers who obstinately insist they know where you want to go, even if it isn't where you told them you want to go!
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