Concert Night

The droplets started slow, barely noticeable but landing with a thud as if condensation from a street light. Soon the players on the next tennis court over were jogging to shelter which seemed like an overreaction. A minute later we were drenched, the storm coming in from the west. We made our way to the pro shop and waited out the lighting storm. An hour later Yang was back on the court warming up for her first match of the day. It was 4pm when we learned her opponent had left when the rain began and Yang won by forfeit.

It was one of those days where the best laid plans – or haphazardly laid plans – didn’t exactly work out as we had laid them. The plan for this day was for me to go with Yang to the west side of town for a tennis tournament and after she played a match or two pick up our friends and drive to a music concert at the great wall. In theory, the concert would be starting at around 4pm but no one expected it to, since it was a bunch of DJs and no DJ worth their salt goes on before midnight. And in this case, the headlining DJ was some English guy named Fatboy Slim who had a mega hit 12 years ago.

So I walked around while Yang waited and cheered for her friends also playing in the tournament. I called our concert friends and said worst case Yang would be done around 5:45pm and then we would pick them up.  At 5:30pm, the match that would determine who Yang would play was just getting underway. That meant, we’d be looking at a 7pm finish time at the earliest, later if Yang won and made it to the semi-finals, not to mention the finals. We decided that I would go on without her and she would meet us via taxi later.

I picked up the British brother and sister who were going with us and we headed up the Badaling expressway to the great wall. Badaling is the most visited great wall section, since it is the closest, about 50 miles outside of town. Should take 60-90 minutes to get there. Turned out to take a bit longer due to the large quantity of trucks – large blue and red cargo trucks (some with live pigs). The trucks drove slow and did not mind using the fast lane when doing so. No to mention swerving in and out of traffic like a compact.  On the way up Yang text me that she won her match and was now into the semi-finals.

We finally got off the expressway and not having clear instructions did the best we could to find the concert – there were no signs. We took the right path but decided it must be the wrong path and with co-conspirators in a trailing taxi turned around. My British friend called a friend of his inside the concert to get directions but she could not hear that good. All we got out of it was “Mike, yes I am inside”.  The taxi driver ended up reading the instructions which were clearer in Chinese and we reversed course again. Up into the hills, a dirt road that could not be the right path but was. We eventually parked next to a village home and walked in.

I texted Yang to confirm that she would really come and she said yes. This was critical because it meant I could have a beer or two or four. Chinese driving laws are 4x stricter with regards to blood alcohol content (0.2 gets you) and in May they increased to penalties severely (5 year license revocation, possible jail) so we don’t mess with even one drink and driving.

All around us were youngish foreigners, you would have no idea you were in China.  It was one big party. And that was outside the concert, as bus after bus of concert goers arrived. We entered the concert not once but twice (had to return the beer to the car that wasn’t allowed inside) and made our way to the first of the three stages.

Yang texted me that she was now into the finals. The concert was in full swing as we checked out the other stages all of which were good. An “inside” source told us Fatboy Slim would go on at midnight so we had three hours to soak up the rest of the music. Then all of a sudden the other stages emptied out. Fatboy had gone on at 10pm.

At about this time Yang texts me that she won the final. Whoohooo.  listed to the music and watched the revelers. Fatboy played for three hours or so and I must say he was pretty good. It was a good time. Yang would have loved it, both the music and the scene were very much to her liking.

But alas Yang was stuck in even worse traffic than we encountered. Surrounded by huge trucks barely moving yet honking like needy children. Yang still enjoying the endorphin rush from her victory took it in stride.

With Fatboy done the concert was effectively over and we wandered our way back towards the parking lot. There was no big rush. A bit after 2am Yang arrived, slid out of the taxi and into the driver’s seat and drove us back to town. Me and her talking on the way down, the two brits near comatose in the backseat.