A trip to Beijing in 1998

These days it’s 25 years ago since I visited Beijing with my school class – a trip that impacted my life in several ways.

It was in my final year of high school, and we were planning our senior trip. Instead of the then usual Rome or Athens, we wanted something more exotic, and our teachers suggested China as an option. The fact that our social science teacher had majored in Chinese and spoke Mandarin fluently sealed the deal.

None of us had visited Asia before – actually, several had never even set foot on a plane before – and we were blown away.

Blown away by a city and country unlike anything we’d experienced before, the pollution, the stark differences between rich and poor, and the strange but also welcoming culture.

Not quite modern

This was 10 years before the Olympics, and while construction was everywhere, Beijing in 1998 seemed like a city that was ready to take the leap into modernity, but hadn’t actually made the jump yet. Traffic was split 50/50 between bicycles and (old) cars, most people wore grey, and a lot of them stared at us as foreigners. (The fact that I’m tall and had long, blond hair back then also did nothing to make me less conspicuous.)

Some glitzy shopping malls with polished floors lined the Wangfujing, where our hotel was located, but they were few and seemed new and out-of-bounds for most ordinary citizens. This was were we would retreat in the evenings to hang out at McDonald’s for a dose of ‘home’ after the excellent but very different Chinese food we were treated with for lunch. That, or karaoke at the hotel bar.

We visited the main attractions, of course, including Tiananmen Square, the Forbidden City, the Summer Palace, Temple of Heaven, and the Great Wall of China. Snow had fallen during the night that day, so Torben and I built a snowman on the wall.

But being a school trip, our itinerary wasn’t just tourist stuff. We visited cloisonné and pearl workshops, and witnessed the lives of ordinary people by visiting an old people’s home, a hutong home, and a kindergarten where a group of kids won us over by singing a song – we had to reciprocate, of course.

Growing up Asian

I finally got around to scanning my photos from the trip recently. I should have done this a long time ago, and not all of them aged well. But I’ve put together a selection on Flickr, which made me reflect further on the impact of the trip.

Obviously, we all came back jet-lagged and slightly fazed, with strong shared memories and a jump-start on a bigger outlook of the world. I think a fascination of China lingered for many of us.

Personally, I have maintained through the years a positive attitude towards the Chinese people and culture, although I don’t have any inhibitions as to the shortcomings of the regime. I even spent one term in college studying Chinese history and culture, and briefly took classes in Mandarin.

I’ve been fortunate to visit other parts Asia several times since. I haven’t been back to Beijing, but I have spent time in Hong Kong and Shanghai, and wherever I’ve been in East Asia I’m filled with a sense of connection that somehow dates back to that first trip in 1998.

While I’ve also aged slightly since then, I think it’s safe to say that China has changed even more. It would be fun to go back one day and see for myself how much. As for now, I hope some you will enjoy the trip down memory lane with my photos.

Click here to see the photo album on Flickr.

Goodbye, my Queen of the Skies

I will miss the 747. That’s a geeky thing to say – it’s just a plane, right? No, this is no ordinary plane, and not just another number in the product line-up.

As I commented in my last post, 2020 is not a good year for aviation. And one of the victims, as it turns out, is indeed the 747. Boeing has announced production of the model will end in 2022, and several airlines are retiring their 747 fleets, including British Airways and Qantas. For the final Qantas flight last week, the pilots made a special gesture to produce the kangaroo logo in the flightpath.

The Boeing 747 ushered in a new era of affordable long-haul flying when first launched back in 1970. Nicknamed the Jumbo Jet, or the Queen of the Skies, the 747 (no need to say Boeing, really) is huge, and easily recognizable with its “hump”, housing the cockpit and, usually, premium class cabins.

In recent years it has fallen out of favor with airlines, however. Newer, smaller, and more fuel-efficient aircraft are today’s workhorses. I haven’t been on a 747 since 2009, and that’s not just because of less travel.

Newer models are arguably more pleasant as a passenger. I’m still a big fan of the 777, for instance, especially in a Singapore Airlines 3-3-3 economy class configuration.

But the Jumbo Jet is the plane I grew up with. When we moved to America in my childhood, it was on a KLM 747, flying business class in the upper cabin. My brother and I even got to visit the cockpit.

And my coming of age as a solo traveler in the late 90’s and early 00’s has the 747 as a central character. Some of my memories on a 747 include:

• Gazing at the Hale-Bopp comet from the sky flying Frankfurt-Chicago (Lufthansa), 1997
• Sleeping on a half-empty flight Copenhagen-Beijing (Air China) on our senior trip in High School, 1998
• Upper deck economy class cabin in a surprising configuration Sydney-Auckland (Qantas), 2002
• Being upgraded to Economy Extra on London-Washington (British Airways), 2005
• Crossing the Pacific in a middle seat on a fully booked 14-hour Los Angeles-Sydney flight (Qantas), 2005

I have had the pleasure of the 747 on eight different airlines (Air China, British Airways, Cathay Pacific, KLM, Lufthansa, Qantas, Singapore Airlines, and Thai), and it has always been with a certain recognition; a sense of coming home.

Chances are, this will be my final tally. We will see the Jumbo flying for some years to come, but it will age quickly from now on and eventually leave the skies altogether. When that happens, it will be a melancholic goodbye to an irreplaceable icon; a plane that soared to define travel for generations.

Crash landing for global aviation

After corona, what will be left of the once unstoppable airline industry?

Photo by Patrick Donnelly on Unsplash

My favorite industry is bleeding. As the global lockdown continues, one of the hardest hit industries is aviation, and this week has seen a daily stream of grounded airlines announcing staff reductions of 50% or more.

As an avid traveler and self-confessed travel geek, this saddens me. I have followed the industry with childish fascination since my first flight decades ago, and I have been fortunate to travel the world extensively, if a bit less in recent years.

(According to my stats on flightmemory.com, in my lifetime of flying I’ve tracked 385,463 miles, equivalent to 1.6 times the distance to the moon.)

Used to change

Airlines have seen shakeups before, with waves of consolidation as state-owned carriers became gradually more competitive, some losing out, others gaining muscle. De-regulation across America and then Europe saw the rise of low-cost carriers, and more efficient aircraft saw fares decline as legacy airlines adapted to a new reality. The financial crisis was a hit to the industry, yes, but demand slowly but surely crept back, as fares continued their downward spiral.

We have grown accustomed to ever-growing demand, with airport and airlines a sure bet for the future. In a globalized world, how could demand go any other way than up?

Last year we saw a small blip in that, with Greta Thunberg’s “flight shame” actually catching on to a degree that people in Sweden were flying less, at least domestically. Was this a forbearer of a world where people would travel less in order to save the environment?

Towards a new normal

Once again, Corona changes everything. One thing is the current standstill, which is bad enough. Nobody has enough capital to endure this for much longer.

But when restrictions eventually ease and we’re out of the crisis, then what? Basic supply and demand stipulates that if people want to fly, there will be companies willing to fly them. But at what cost? Many businesses have now seen how well things can be run virtually – this could very well mean a permanently lower demand for business travel. That could change the industry drastically.

A new report predicts that after the crisis, only five major airlines will remain in Europe, with much higher fares than previously.

For years I have had a dream that it would be awesome to work in the airline industry. For the time being, however, I count myself fortunate that those ambitions have not yet come to life. I do hope that whatever survives will be able to flourish once again.

What will become of Hong Kong?

On a wall in my bedroom hangs a framed photo of the Hong Kong skyline. I’m quite proud of the shot, which I took myself during a short visit 18 years ago. You can see the Bank of China Tower in the middle, and the old Star Ferry Terminal in the foreground (before they tore it down).

The picture is a testament to my deep fascination with a place to which I have no obvious connection. I have friends and former colleagues who have lived here, whereas I myself have visited only three times, and then quite briefly (plus transiting the airport a handful of times).

The city has, however, left a strong impression on me as a melting pot, a fusion of East and West, and a place with a rich and somewhat turbulent history.

I have actively read books set here, notably John Lanchester’s Fragrant Harbour and James Clavell’s Tai-Pan, but also made my way through The Last Governor, a non-fiction account of the former colony’s final years under British rule.

In one of my earlier forays into poetry, I even wrote my own ‘ode to Hong Kong’:

descend into the haze

simplified or traditional
neither is sufficient
ninety-nine years is forever
where skyscrapers come and go
at the blink of an eye

man of the world, man on the street
living together and never meeting
six-lane highways to future and hope
restricted access, divided in unity

up on the peak the air is clear
the city shrouded in smog
but from below, looking up
even the sky’s no limit

fragrant harbour
an oasis in the world
belonging nowhere
encompassing all

It is with sadness I watch what is happening in the city this year. The ‘haze’ I was referring to back in 2003, was just smog and masses of people; not tear gas and a murky future.

Hong Kong returned to Chinese rule in 1997 with a 50-year deal ensuring “one country, two systems”. This meant guaranteeing the people of Hong Kong freedom of speech and assembly, notably absent in mainland China. Nearly half-way through that period though, it seems plausible that Hong Kong in 2047 will look much more like Shanghai, and much less like London.

Whether Hong Kong is Chinese or not is a moot point; the handover is long gone, as is the era of colonialism. Should Beijing intervene more heavy-handedly, it is well within their right. What is more, for all our nostalgia and solidarity, nobody will be rushing to Hong Kong’s aid. You don’t offend the dragon on its home turf. Just look what happened to the NBA.

And whatever importance Hong Kong has as an economic powerhouse may eventually be eclipsed by Shanghai and Shenzhen. By copying its economic success, minus the freedoms, China may eventually render Hong Kong obsolete, along with any democratic ambitions its people may have had.

When I look at the photo on my wall, however much I want to support the protesters and their cause, these are the prospects that come to mind. I do hope a brighter future is still possible.

The Road to Norway

Saying a final farewell to my Grandmother this week was also a final closing of a chapter. And it was a journey of mourning to a destination that used to be filled with joy.

There are many ways you can travel from Denmark to Norway. And being half Norwegian, I have tried most of them growing up, as we would visit my maternal grandparents for summer and Christmas holidays, and more.

I have flown to Fornebu, and later Gardermoen Airport. I have twice taken the train from Copenhagen. I have travelled by ferry, Copenhagen-Oslo, Frederikshavn-Oslo, or even Hundested-Sandefjord, where an infamous trip on a ship named Gelting Nord had many of us seasick. On that trip, I would have been younger than my oldest daughter is now. What are the memories that will shape her life?

For me the memory, despite the alternative routes, will primarily be driving on E6, the main road through Sweden from Copenhagen to Oslo. This is our family storytelling, and we have travelled the route often enough to recognize and appreciate the waypoints and notice the changes.

The first section in Sweden would resemble Denmark: flat and uneventful. But before long we would scale the massive Hallandsås, bigger than any hill in Denmark, and with long queues of trucks in the old days before freeway standards.

North of Varberg we would reach the first tunnel: an early harbinger of the mountainous land which was our destination. The number and length of tunnels would intensify as we proceeded north, and has also increased over time. As kids the sport was to hold our breath for the duration of the tunnel.

There was Gothenburg, the big city we only knew from the freeway: heavy traffic, a tunnel under the river, a high bridge across it, and potentially a pit stop at Burger King.

There was “the siren in the tree”: a resting area somewhere in Sweden where we once stopped to sleep in the car. During the night there was a break-in at the shop next-door, with police sirens waking us up. We were untouched by the event, but the location became a family landmark.

To pass time, my brother and I would have fun with the place names on the way, such as Mastemyr, Dingle (a giant lived here), Sarpsborg (with an obscure animal called a Sarp featured in its coat of arms), and later the signpost to Åmål (made famous by the Swedish film Fucking Åmål).

Later, on the very day I obtained my driver’s license, we were on the road again, and my first experience driving without an instructor was somewhere on the E6. Hills were something I had not been trained for.

As we came closer to our destination, the anticipation would grow: crossing the stunning Svinesund to enter Norway, passing through Oslo, seeing signposts to Drammen, exiting the tunnel near Lier with a view of the city, passing over Drammen, catching the first glimpse through the trees of the house, and driving up the last stretch of gravel to the end of the road and my grandparents’ house.

It was a wonderful place, with ample opportunities to play inside and outside. But more importantly, it was a place filled with love, warmth, hospitality, generosity, and fun, which my grandparents created for us and for many others.

The house was sold long ago, a few years after my Grandpa died in 2002. And the final years of my Grandma’s life were such that death came as a blessing. At 97, she had had a long and good life, and will now rest until the grand reunion at the end of time.

The E6 is mostly freeway these days, and while the journey may have lost some of its allure and now its previous primary endpoint, the memory will remain forever in our hearts.