Here I am on the periphery of the main street, the Second Ring Road, where I have to ride upstream, in the opposite direction. The trick is to try as much as possible not to step down, to avoid cars, trucks, and still sleeping riders. Everything is moving and yet I feel they are not fast enough. Suddenly, the rhythm slows down again. In front of the Workers' Stadium is a morning market.
Baskets overflow with green leaves.
Here people come, not only to fill their baskets, but also to have their morning chat. There is no point in ringing the bell. I get out of the bicycle lane and circle around the buyers and peddlers, leaving them in their atmosphere. In 10 minutes I reach the embassy district, which features diplomatic cars, small teahouses, and flower boutiques. By this time, I have plunged into a ghetto, where the expatriates live in China as if they were living at home.