I'VE written here about the traffic problems I have encountered commuting from my flat in an industrial western suburb of Beijing to the centre of town. I've finally solved them by moving.
Last week the Foreign Ministry (at long last) offered The Irish Times one of the much sought after new apartments which its housing department has built on the edge of the diplomatic district of Beijing.
Instead of looking out on the roof of the No 1 Garment Factory and a forest of polluting chimney stacks, we now have a vista of willow, chestnut and walnut trees in dozens of embassy gardens, and on the other side the neon lights of Jianguomenwai Street, the main thoroughfare of central Beijing.
Here the old and the new in China co exist side by side. Soviet style apartment buildings have sprouted giant advertisements for consumer goods. On the roof top beside us is a three storey high Remy XO billboard advertising champagne cognac with the slogan: "Because Life Is What You Make It". Beyond that are bright lights promoting Mitsubishi, Hitachi and HP Deskjet, the last with a neon fish blowing coloured bubbles.
Beneath this glittering commercial display, Mercedes and Audis jostle with tiny "breadloaf" Beijing taxis and rusting public buses on their way to and from Tiananmen Square, while cyclists and pedicarts swish by in an endless stream on wide cycle paths.
Foreign tourists from the big hotels stroll along this stretch to the Friendship Store to buy sonvenirs and to snack at Pizza Hut, Broad way Cafe, Vie de France or Baskin Robbins - an ice cream store which is open all night. "Welcome to the land of 24-hour ice cream," remarked a new neighbour as we moved in.
On this particular strip of foot path people have to run a gauntlet of professional beggars attracted by foreigners. Some are a piteous sight. One young man with no legs holds out his hands cupped together. A fit looking woman sends her tiny son to tug at people's clothes while he points to his mouth.
At the other end there are peddlers selling bronze Buddhas, Mao cigarette lighters and other bric a brac. Here the foreigner is constantly approached with the muttered offer: "Hello! CD Rom?" - the modern Beijing version of "Psst, dirty postcards?"
In a laneway here is the famous Xiushui Silk Market, one of the best places in China to buy silk shirts, underwear, jackets, bathrobes and carpets at knock down prices. It is always thronged with people of every nationality looking for bargains.
At the quieter far end of Silk Alley, just beyond the gates of the American embassy, a crazy woman keeps vigil all day. This mysterious and glamorous looking lady in yellow silk gown, straw hat and sunglasses waits here, through rain and shine, for someone who never comes.
Beyond that are the embassy avenues lined with fruit trees, where uniformed Chinese guards stand at each mission gate on little red and white stands, watchfully rotating their heads to left and right.
In the centre is a tranquil oasis, Ritan Park, whose name means "Temple of the Sun", and which dates back to 1530. It has a wonderful Chinese restaurant in a pavilion which is as popular with westerners as Pizza Hut is with Chinese.
While tourists and business types work out in hotel fitness centres on Jianguomenwai Street, hundreds of Beijingers come to Ritan park at dawn to dance and perform taijiquan, qigong and other popular forms of exercise. These cheerful masses waltz shadow box and fence, or just shout and fling their arms about and the air is filled with the music of songbirds from cages hanging on trees.
So all in all, it's hardly surprising that we moved fast from our flat beside the garment factory and the dyeing plant before the new apartment was snapped up by someone else. We signed the contract on Thursday, packed on Friday and moved on Saturday.
No horror stories here, as one might expect. Beijing is a surprisingly efficient city to move house in. We hired a truck and removal team and within 24 hours were driving behind it as, piled high with our belongings and the Irish Times computer on top, it made its way through the traffic jams of Chaoyang Road. Goodbye to all that!
We found that unlike the situation in many western capitals of free enterprise, such as Washington, furniture in Beijing is delivered quickly by department stores at no extra charge. We needed a new sofa and armchairs. We paid for them in a department store on Sunday morning, and they were delivered that very evening.
Don't get me wrong. Life in Beijing is fascinating but far from idyllic, and westerners exchange endless stories of their frustrations living and working in the Chinese capital. We can throw in one or two tales of our own. No Chinese made plug fits the wall socket for our locally purchased washing machine. And trying to get curtains properly lined and hung is a nightmare.
But suddenly its springtime in China. The willow trees are turning green, and the cherry and peach trees are in blossom. And as the cognac ad says, "Life is what you make it."