It’s been 1 month since I moved to Beijing, and this strange splash of a city has settled quite comfortably into that friend whom you
think you know and love, but can never quite count on.
It doesn’t always pour when it rains, and dramatic thunder, lightning and howling winds are more often than not a few seconds of rain – unless that’s what you expect.
You learn to accept that in restaurants, you’re always served boiling hot water, and then you learn to love it. #HotWaterFTW
There are people who are viciously rude and pushy, and there are people who spend longer than most of us would trying to help, with directions, with company, with their hospitality.
It’s a strange feeling being somewhere where no one knows you, when you come from a place where you meet people you know around every corner. The biggest cities can be the loneliest, and you’re constantly reminded of the importance of who you surround yourself with (and who not to surround yourself with).
You start to envy the people who have it in them to hack out a load of phlegm because, with the air pollution here, sometimes you really wish you could.
It’s a city that’s as potentially easy as it is destructive, as I imagine most big cities are. And thus you master the art of holding on to yourself in this moshpit of madness while not missing out on the fun.