The Forbidden City

 

 
 
This kill or be killed historical site boggles the mind on every level.


This kill or be killed historical site boggles the mind on every level.

Forbidden City, Beijing: The gruesome history behind China's imperial palace

Considering how hot and steamy it was in Beijing, it seemed rather appropriate to begin our tour of the Forbidden City at the palace of royal concubines.

But in The Forbidden City, all roads eventually lead to the Hall of Supreme Harmony, although ongoing renovations to the Forbidden City's most famous attraction meant we could only peek through the front door of the verboten citadel's holy of holies. 

It was well over 40°C in the shade and no one in my tour group was feeling very harmonious. Several had wilted and were semi-recumbent in the half-shadows, fanning themselves with crumpled tourist maps. But despite the weather being seriously sticky and the sting of sweat in my eyes, I'd given myself over to the experience the moment we walked through the palace gates. The sheer scale of the citadel had winded me.

The museum complex: school holidays swell the numbers of visitors, which is popular with Chinese and overseas tourists alike.

The museum complex: school holidays swell the numbers of visitors, which is popular with Chinese and overseas tourists alike.

The Hall of Supreme Harmony is not original. It has been built and rebuilt over the years: the victim of lightning strikes, arson and earthquakes. But each time, it was put back together without the use of a single nail, like a huge architectural game of Jenga. And it's massive. Measurement, precision and calculation lend a truth to this imposing timber monolith – it's an honest construction, despite the machinations that unravelled within.

bac2ec25535d668a47615f495eaac242.jpg

Despite the essential repairs to the hall, it is still possible to see the throne, if you push through the hordes of tourists. They're mainly Chinese.

The Forbidden City's last occupant: Pu Yi was playfully mischievous as a child and enthusiastically sadistic as an adult.

The Forbidden City's last occupant: Pu Yi was playfully mischievous as a child and enthusiastically sadistic as an adult.

Long ago, anger and resentment aimed at the wildly rich Qing Dynasty gave way to curiosity. Visitors come from all over China to see the palace; some even dress up and play at emperor or empress.   

Squinting through a crack in the door, with a tourist's elbow in my ear, I could just make out the Dragon Throne. At the beginning of the 20th Century, the final Son of Heaven sat here, as he presided over his vastly diminished micro-empire. Here was where the last emperor, Pu Yi, immortalised in Bernardo Bertolucci's nine-Oscar-winning bio-blockbuster The Last Emperor, reigned briefly.  

As we meandered through the palace I tried to imagine the diminutive monarch wandering the same route, or borne by an army of eunuchs on a mighty palaquin.

Everyone wants 'that shot' front and centre – facing the warriors.

Everyone wants 'that shot' front and centre – facing the warriors.

It is not hard to imagine; reminders of Pu Yi are everywhere: like the stone ramps he had constructed to join the vast courtyards – a sabotage on traditional Feng Shui, but they enabled him to cycle much of the 90-acre site.

Inside the deep-red walls of The Forbidden City, past the infamous Meridian Gate, which faces Tiananmen Square, there are 90 separate palaces and more than 9000 rooms - the largest royal palace complex in the world. Our half-day tour gave me a sense of scale but lacked the more intimate embrace of other royal residences I'd visited. It takes time to truly appreciate this place.

The Forbidden City's last occupant: Pu Yi was depicted as a vain and obtuse monarch in The Last Emperor but this was a far cry from the real Son of Heaven. He was playfully mischievous as a child and enthusiastically sadistic as an adult, brutalising servants, tormenting his empress and consorts, and issuing empty decrees in his make-believe kingdom. His wet nurse remembered him making his servants eat dirt or pies filled with iron filings.

But the imperial family is now long gone. Now a Unesco World Heritage site, the Forbidden City hosts a constant stream of tourists. The palace's official website says no more than 80,000 tickets are issued in any one day, but as I bumped shoulders with gazillions of Chinese tourists I was not convinced.   

Despite the enormous size of the Forbidden City, every inch of space bustles with the throng of tourists. It's at times overwhelming. There are 23 million people in Beijing and it felt like at least half were trying to squeeze past me into a tiny courtyard behind another hall of heavenly … something. Part of me wished I had the royal treatment - to walk about unmolested by the hoards. Ordinary people were not even allowed to look at the emperor as he moved about the palace with a eunuch clearing the way for him, bleating like a human car horn. 

As we passed by the Hall of Preserving Harmony, I noticed a vast bronze trough. Ornate water receptacles and wells are dotted all over the palace. With this much wood around, fire was a constant danger. In 1923, more than 120 rooms burnt to the ground. A tiny portion of the whole, and just one of the many infernos that ravaged this architectural forest during its 600-year history.

s-l1600.jpg

A little further along the cobblestones, another water well and another piece of gruesome history: Pu Yi's predecessor the murderous Empress Dowager Cixi often dispatched her enemies, including a royal consort, by tossing them into the watery depths.

The ghastly theme continues throughout the palace. Beyond the lake and pleasure garden - fertile ground for whisperings and intrigues - there is a royal dining hall where official tasters gathered to safeguard the royals from poison. It was not always effective; the penultimate potentate's Guangxu Emperor's body was exhumed in 2008 and found to have 2000 times the normal amount of arsenic. 

Stories of homicide, regicide, fratricide and infanticide are around every corner. No 'cide' was too gruesome for the inhabitants of this vast, foreboding royal court. Deceit and deception are woven into the very fabric of the buildings. Death sentences were issued from behind a silken veil with elegant inertia by Empress Dowager Cixi, earning her the moniker the 'Dragon Lady'.

Empress_Dowager_Chongqing_at_the_Age_of_Sixty,_probably_by_Giuseppe_Castiglione_and_court_painters_in_Beijing,_China,_Qianlong_period,_c._1751_AD,_ink_and_color_on_silk_-_Peabody_Essex_Museum_-_DSC07995.jpg

The palace was home to 24 emperors, but there is a precise sense of architectural continuity as we continue our tour: pitched roofs with dragons, elegant gables and enormous bronze lanterns. The never-ending sameness of the palace adds to its bewitching presence.

Once you've passed through the main gate, official courtyards and imposing major halls, the Forbidden City becomes a maze of pleasure palaces and smaller courtyards. The Palace of Myriad Tranquilities, Palace of Gathered Elegance, Palace of Bearing Heaven.

"I'm all palaced out," whimpered someone from the back of our group". And it is truly overwhelming at times. I had expected big - huge even - but nothing prepares you for just how vast the site is.

This kill or be killed historical site boggles the mind on every level. As my energy was sapped and my pace slowed, our guide's narrative continued, buoyed and enthusiastic, providing a thin film of elegance and mystery to what seemed at times to be little more than a vast harem. Each night the emperor chose a partner from a menu and then the corresponding concubine was bathed, powdered and plucked - and delivered to the royal bedchamber. When the deed was done, they were once again confined to their palatial prison – most likely for the rest of their life.

Opinions vary on how much time you should allot to experience The Forbidden City. I'd been there all of 10 seconds before I felt deeply invested in the place and could have stayed for days, but incurious visitors passed all around me in a pedestrian daze as if they were wandering through a theme park.

 It depends on your traveller ethos, but as we left the palace that day I wondered, why go somewhere if you're not going to at least try to immerse yourself.

Exploring there The Forbidden City limits the daily number of visitors to 80,000. You can buy tickets online at various outlets.  Don't forget to bring your passport, an umbrella and a water bottle.  Tickets are about NZ$17.

If  you don't have online reservation, go early as there are usually tickets available in the morning.  See en.dpm.org.cn/visit/ticket

You pay an additional fee to see the treasure gallery and an additional fee to see the clock and watch gallery. Foreign visitors are required to provide passport numbers and full names when booking tickets online.

More information flowertravel.com.au

Getting there China Eastern Airlines fly Auckland to Shanghai return, starting from about $1000. Air China flies Auckland to Beijing return, starting from about $900.

Getting around The easiest way to get around in China is by fast train. They are quick, clean and on time. High speed trains from Shanghai or Beijing to Xi'an (Terracotta Army) take about five hours. Slower, overnight train options are available on both routes to save a night of accommodation.

Touring there While it is possible to book trains, visas and entry tickets yourself, trans-Siberian travel experts Flower Travel specialise in individual and group travel to China, Mongolia and Russia, including the Terracotta Army, Beijing and Shanghai. They offer semi-independent touring where the essentials are all taken care of but you're not 'smothered'. See trans-siberian.com.au

The author travelled courtesy of Flower Travel.