Back in Beijing for a Week, No Broken Legs to Speak of

Shenzhen was amazing. It was totally different than I expected. I'd heard it was just factories and gangsters. In fact, I'd heard that the gangsters drive up on the sidewalk, hit you with their car/motor bike and break your legs so you can't run away and then they rob you. At the risk of disappointing my many haters, that didn't happen. Sorry guys.

Instead, I found a city that's a crazy mash up of Vegas and Time Square all with a very certain techy Silicon Valley flavor. If Beijing is like San Francisco, Shenzhen is like San Jose. I mean that in a good engineer way, not the ho-hum suburban way. The real, hardcore tech stuff happens down there, both in factories and in terms of innovation. It's got the same transient-I'm-here-to-prove-myself-and/or-make-my-fortune feel as San Jose does too.

Of course, all those analogies aside, Shenzhen isn't really like any of those places. It's China, after all, and nothing is like anything here.

After Shenzhen, I went to Hong Kong for two days. (I've discovered it's really easy to accidentally type "Honk Kong" which keeps making Mr. Lacy laugh on our twice-daily Skype chats. He now calls it "Honky Kong.") I have to confess I didn't see much of Honky Kong because I holed up in the W and did a ton of writing and had a nice spa day. And by "nice" I mean, it was great until the masseuse bruised me! I said medium pressure!!

The W was fabulous. Really, really fabulous despite its odd attempt to make me cheat on my husband. (I'd link to the post that makes this comment make sense, but I'm back in Beijing and my site is blocked. Scroll down to the one about the W. Sorry.)

I know they're a little look-at-me-trendy but I've always loved Ws and the lobby of the San Francisco one is one of my favorite spots to write. But the Hong Kong W was a whole different level of awesome-- great service, great room, great views and of course, there's the rooftop pool. Really good writing vibes. I would go there again just to stay at the hotel and write. 

So I felt mixed when I checked out to come back to Beijing. Let me tell you-- my favorite Beijing hotel, The Opposite House, was not about to let the W have the last word. One thing I've learned living out of hotels for half the year while I write this book is that good ones make you feel like you are coming home. When I came into the Opposite House after an hour in horrific traffic and a slightly hungover flight, the guy at the door saw me, smiled broadly and said "Welcome back, Sarah! How was Shenzhen?" (They have no clue I keep blogging about them, btw-- they're just this great to everyone.) It's the first hotel I've stayed at in China where they call me "Sarah" and not "Miss Lacy." I love that.

When the manager came over to check me in, he frowned and said, "You were supposed to be here yesterday, Sarah." It's true. I was. I decided to stay in Hong Kong another day because Liam Casey, an Irish entrepreneur who absolutely hogged my time down south, promised me the world's best Peking duck if I stayed another day. (It was pretty damn good. Of course, I could also eat Peking duck every day of my life and still look at a menu and say "Oh! Peking duck! That sounds good!" so I'm probably not the best judge.)

Rudely, I didn't call The Opposite House to tell them I'd be a day late, so they canceled my reservation. (With no penalty. Are you listening every other hotel in the world???)

"I know!" I said to the manager. "I am really rude. I should have called, I'm sorry."

"Well, we don't have the same room for you," he admonished me.

"I'll take whatever you have," I said. "Anything!"

He insisted on escorting me up to the room, and it was a huge suite. Every time I come here they put me in a bigger room as a nice little surprise. A few more trips and my Beijing hotel room is going to be bigger than my house in SF. I mean-- there's a dining table for six in here!

It's like when I'd come home after curfew as a teenager and my mom would be stern for 20 minutes the next day and then make me breakfast. To extend the metaphor, I went to Sureno-- one of the hotel restaurants-- for dinner and was working while I ate. One of the managers came over to tell me to eat my food before it got cold, just like my mom would.

Casey, btw, is one of those weird people like Paul Carr who only lives in hotels. I've never understood how anyone could do that because I really like my own space and my own kitchen. But if they were all like the Opposite House, I'd consider it.

The downside of course is now that I'm back on the mainland, sites like Twitter and Facebook are blocked again. Small price to pay for feeling at home.