Monday, May 19, 2008

Festival of Olly

With the weekend rapidly approaching and constant reminders that it was Olly’s birthday on Friday (primarily from Olly), I was fastening my seatbelt for a bumpy night or perhaps a bumpy weekend. No amount of practice ever seems to prepare me for a massive alcoholic binge, and despite my best efforts with consecutive ‘warm-up’ nights on Wednesday and Thursday, Friday night arrived and the ‘Festival of Olly’ was set in motion.

It began in an ex-pat sports bar, the Goose and Duck; more an amusement park than a drinking establishment. Somewhat like a Timezone for alcoholics, the G&D seemed like an appropriate gathering point for the night ahead. I was responsible for sending out the ‘facebook’ event invite which stated Goose & Duck for a bite and beers followed by ‘Block 8 Beach Party’. Olly, Kristen and I left home at 8, in order to arrive fashionable a-little-late at the Goose & Duck. Which we did, after arriving at the ‘old’ Goose & Duck’ location, wandering around like lost pups and then hailing another cab when we realized the ‘new’ Goose & Duck location was somewhere completely different. Ok, take two! Many of the more astute invitees were completely on top of this and, with seasoned ex-pat local knowledge, arrived at the correct location with just a single cab ride. But many others also did the two-cab-scenic-tour-stop-off before sheepishly arriving to join the rest of the party.

The night was a joint party for both Olly and our new Aussie friend, Laura, a fellow Taurean whose birthday was just around the corner. A clever move, not only because she’s a great girl, but this automatically increased the invite list by 1200%. It was good to see the girls from the BOCOG office actually outside the BOCOG office. Chang Shan, Jane, Tao and Echo arrived laden with gifts and cheesecake (one of Olly’s faves). Once the cake was cut and devoured and the last pints put away it was on to the second leg of the evening, Block 8.

I booked a ‘cabana’ at the Beach… a luxurious cushioned tent with room for 12 while the remainder mingled barefoot in the sand. This place is somewhat surreal when you consider the beach is actually on a rooftop, and although being in the centre of Beijing, creates an amazing atmosphere of late night Ibiza, complete with DJs, bikini clad dancing girls and free flowing champagne and Grey Goose Vodka!

With the name Block 8 scrawled in my mental black book, the beach sadly came to a close, ending amid a cacophony of block-rocking-beats and a swirling menagerie of laughing faces…and an ocean of empty champagne and vodka bottles.

On to Bar Blu, a 15 minute (single) cab ride away, and although it entertains a slightly less beautiful crowd, it’s as good a place as any considering our condition. This place has the added bonus of a kebab shop on the ground floor as you exit. And so, with the sun climbing up over the horizon, a kebab in hand, shooing away two very nice Chinese gay boys who wanted to ‘help’ our birthday boy get home, and with just enough coherence to hail a taxi, we left. But not before Olly did a most memorable and impressive stunt man routine. Before a ready made live audience, he plonked himself on a table in the street outside, collapsing it like a house of cards! Greatly appreciated by the crowd and I laughed so hard I nearly dislocated something.

By the time Sunday came around I was considering a day of pure nothing on the sofa, momentarily forgetting brunch at the Intercontinental Hotel. The Laura and Olly birthday weekend continued with a magnificent buffet of, well, everything. Fine food, free-flowing Veuve Clicquot and a made-to-order Martini bar, meant the festival was far from over. Pacing ourselves like true professionals, we gorged our way through a four-hour feast of delectable gastronomical delights and left completely sated and exhausted.

Pushing the food and drink aside for a spell, we ventured down Liulichang for a cultural palette cleanser. This street is known throughout China and the world for its ancient books, calligraphy, paintings, rubbings and ink stones. We meandered and browsed and some paintings and other trinkets were purchased. Then, with his innate ability to spot a self-promotion opportunity from a hundred and fifty metres, our man Olly lunged in front of a TV camera, pushing aside the presenter, screaming "Can I be on Chinese TV?" Before you could say Brian Henderson, Olly was reporting, mic in hand, from downtown Liulichang. He waxed lyrical about the joys and hidden secrets of this famous street, having had a good 45 minutes to familiarise himself with the surrounds. I tell ya, this kid is a natural. The Chinese media have gobbled him up, paying homage to this exotic English enigma, who has now been captured on tape three times in as many weeks. Watch for him next season in ITV's "Getaway UK: From Bury to Wakefield". TV Gold!
With Olly's travelogue in the can, we regained our senses and headed to HouHai to reclaim ex-pat status atop another roof clinking countless bottles of Corona and toasting everything from love and peace to the French, the Brits, the Aussies and the Venezuelans!

Coronas gave way to food and No Names restaurant located deep in the hutongs was the perfect place. No, I’m afraid no schnitzel combos here, but some remarkably good local fare. The Festival of Olly ended on a balmy, spring evening, with hundreds of locals mingling with the tourists as we wandered back along the lake, said our goodbyes and called it a weekend.

No comments: