Salitun Lu in the Chaoyang district is known as Beijing’s “Bar Street”. With more than 200 bars to choose from, how do you decide where to go and sip on Tsingtao beer? One suggestion is to flip a coin. Heads means three bars to the right, tails means every third bar to the left.
In our case, tails won, and we found ourselves in 64 Disco Pub listening to a meek version of Brian Adams’s Summer of ’69. The beers were cheap, but a G’n’T and bowl of popcorn (a favourite bar snack in Beijing) came at a cheekier price. The band was in need of inspiration and the two skinny singers looked like they needed a good dose of “chi”, but their half-hearted moves didn’t stop the locals from having a good time.
Beijing’s Bar Street has been a favourite hangout of ex-pats, travellers and more modern Beijing residents from the mid-Nineties. Since then the capital’s bar culture has grown in leaps and bounds (and the hawkers on the streets outside are certainly cashing in on a good thing).
The decidedly Western influence is everywhere, although the music is stuck somewhere in an Eighties time warp. Hits from Wham!, U2, Guns N’ Roses, Bruce Springsteen and the Village People (YMCA is a favourite) are hugely popular — even Frank Sinatra’s New York New York makes the grade (the karaoke influence has definitely played a role in musical choices in this part of the world).
But, however Western it gets on Bar Street, the Chinese influence is ever-present, making for a surreally good time. There are no hard-and-fast rules here. Smoking indoors is par for the course and the one bar we visited hosted a live auction. Offering some fine (and some deliciously kitsch) Chinese artworks, the auctioneer made a few hundred yuan in just under an hour.
Three bars down to the left we found ourselves at 56 Side by Side with a live band and a DJ who thought he was Eddie van Halen’s Chinese cousin.
Packed to the brim, we managed to find a table near the entrance to the bar. It was here that we met Ching Lu, who wanted to make “bouncy, bouncy” with the two males in our group.
One has to wonder where the concept of dancing on bar counters became the done thing. It certainly did not originate among the Chinese, who are shy at best. But the trend has taken hold among youthful Beijing residents who will jump on to a bar stool, counter or table at the slightest hint of a Bon Jovi song.
The piece de résistance was a bar called Swing, somewhere in the middle of Bar Street. Gorgeous Chinese girls in plastic yellow Corona jackets welcomed us. A fantastic Filipino band performed Eighties favourites, local Beijing regulars sipped imported beers and played board games, and a few ex-pats were all too ready to party the night away. (At Swing, a Beijing Fling will set you back 85 yuan (about R65), but the Corona girls will offer you “best price” on their Mexican tipple.)
It was here that (after many Tsingtao beers), two members of our party decided to “Dance African”: the result was two whiteys doing Johnny Clegg-style dancing in a bar in Beijing, with all the foot stomping, butt-waving and tsotsi spirit they could muster.
The Chinese were aghast and clearly, somewhere in his grave near Tiananmen Square, Chairman Mao was not having a good night.
The writer flew to Beijing courtesy of Singapore Airlines, China Experience and Thompsons Tours
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