Saturday, 22 April 2017
Beijing, China
0500hrs alarm for an early check out for the airport run. Hotel needs to check our rooms to ensure we haven’t stolen anything. Two in our group have twice been accused of stealing towels in two hotels when in actual fact the hotel hadn’t put towels there in the first place.
Bought a copy of the Pyongyang Times newspaper last night along with a watercolour painting in the hotel souvenir shop. What a palaver. The watercolour painting is rolled up in a tube. Suggest that she roll up the Pyongyang Times together with it to make it easier to pack. She replies, “It’s not allowed!” She has to roll up the Pyongyang Times separately, and carefully, in its own wrapping. Can’t be folded up.
The reason.
Dear reader.
Is this.
The front page has a photo of Kim Jong-Un. It is forbidden in the DPRK to fold a newspaper as that may cause a crease across Kim.
I.
Kid.
You.
Not.
Dear.
Reader.
It’s disrespectful.
Sunrise as we drive through deserted streets and wide boulevards and along the river road. Locals doing early morning exercises on the paths facing the sun. A sort of tai chi exercise. A long line of locals lined up along the river path silhouetted against the rising sun. The start of another beautiful day in the DPRK.
Each apartment balcony seems to have many flower pots with colourful flowers. Even at this early hour see locals planting grass or weeding grass verges and watering with a plastic bottle which has had holes cut in to act like a sprinkler. Make do and mend.
Arrive at the brand new airport terminal building which the DPRK should be rightly proud of. All gleaming and new. Our group are the only passengers in it.
Fill in the customs declaration and exit card. Getting ready for a right old hoo-ha trying to get out of the country. Fond farewells to our guides who have been fantastic, fun and friendly. Probably the best two tour guides I’ve had on a tour. Have been asked not to name them. So won’t.
Check in opens. Bag is x-rayed just behind the check in desk. Remember my USB flash drive with all my photos backed up is hidden in suitcase.
Heart sinks when suitcase pings up something on x-ray. Security man has found something he wants to investigate. Clucking bell. Do not want my photos of this memorable trip confiscating.
He shows me an item on the x-ray that has aroused suspicion. He’s young, very friendly and amiable and speaks good English. Not even I know what it is. Don’t think it’s the USB flash drive as I thought that was in another part of the case. He and I both have a rummage inside my suitcase trying to find the small rectangular metallic object. For the life of us, neither of us can find the object. Practically empty my belongings in the search for a small metallic object. After a lot more rummaging it’s clear it’s not in the main body of the suitcase. I only find the object by accidentally touching the lining of the outer pocket.
You’ll never guess what it was.
A metal miniature Leaning Tower of Pisa.
Ah ha. So that’s where it went!
Bought it a few weeks prior to my DPRK trip when in Florence and Pisa. Had completely forgotten about it. Pack suitcase and it’s finally put on the baggage handling conveyor. Complete with my USB flash drive. Relieved to watch it disappear. At least I’ve got a complete set of all my photographs out of the country.
Having faffed about with suitcase x-ray at check in I’m now last through hand luggage x-ray and body scanner. Have a long list of kit on my customs declaration form so anticipating a full interrogation of each electronic item to ensure nothing untoward is being taken out of the country. Preparing for the worst, you can imagine my surprise and delight when security just takes my customs declaration form and waves me through. WHAT?!?! No interrogation?!?! Oh come on guys. Just give me a little bit of a hard time so I can get that authentic totalitarian state experience. I’ve had more grief at Birmingham airport trying to get a jar of Marmite through security (still miffed about the loss of a jar of Marmite, dear reader, oh yes, still miffed). But no. It’s all very friendly and laid back. Not at all like it’s made out in the western media. A few months after returning to the UK a newspaper published some crappy photos of street life in the DPRK and remarked that they were ‘secret’ photos that had to be ‘smuggled’ out. Cobblers. Nothing like that at all. I’ve got more ‘risqué’ photos of life in the DPRK than those published. I’ve got photos of missiles and tanks and military and bridges and tunnels. Don’t believe everything you read in the press, dear reader.
Having already gone through the body scanner am asked to stand on a small step so the petite young female guard can waft her magic wand over me (that’s not a euphemism, dear reader). Towering much more over her now I’m on a step, drop my knees about a foot to try and come down to her level to make it easier for her. Her male colleagues crack up laughing. She’s giggling too at my antics and tells me it’s OK to stand properly albeit that she can’t now reach my shoulders.
Air Koryo flight takes off in good time and soon land in Beijing though could do without the 1hr queue through immigration on arrival.
Check in to the Hilton Hotel (https://www.hilton.com/en/hotels/bjscahi-hilton-beijing-capital-airport/). Have enjoyed the DPRK immensely but it is nice to get back to civilisation. And a phone signal. And internet connection. And contact with the outside world.
First thing is to check voicemails. Have had no phone signal for over a week. There’s a number of voicemails including one from Mum and two from Dad.
Dad never rings.
There must be something wrong at home.
Dad sounds panicked.
Dad doesn’t panic.
They both say they’re returning my voice message where I ask them to ring me back.
This was a voice message I left when I was at home a week or so before I left for the DPRK.
They’ve just discovered the voice message on the answerphone the past few days. They think it’s me ringing from the DPRK. They think it’s me ringing to say goodbye. I’m a human shield now.
A colleague has left a voicemail. The sort of colleague who doesn’t come across as caring and giving a toss about my welfare.
He sounds panicked.
Return their calls. It all becomes clear.
Remember, dear reader, we have had no contact with the outside world apart from the odd snippet on Al-Jazeera when in Pyongyang. We do not know what has been happening in the big wide world. Unbeknownst to us, it’s apparently all been kicking off whilst we’ve been away and the western media have been seemingly blowing things out of all proportion and that we’re heading for nuclear war with the DPRK.
Whilst little old me is on holiday in the DPRK.
Even old (as in longevity) friend’s mother was apparently concerned for my welfare.
