Nightlife in China can certainly prove to be a rather mixed experience. If you visit Shanghai for a night on the tiles, it can prove to be as lavish, exciting and expensive as tripping the light fantastic in London or New York. Similarly, the capital is also fast becoming one of the biggest party towns in Asia, with scores of exciting new bars and clubs opening, and a raft of top western DJs coming to play. However, once you move away from some of the bigger cities, the options on offer can get a little more spartan. For example, when I visited Datong in 2006, I could scarcely find dinner after 8.30 let alone a cold beer. The experience of my buddy Os and I in Hohhot seemed to encapsulate both ends of the Chinese nightlife spectrum. We managed to have a fantastic time, but finding a good bar was certainly not easy.
Our evening began after dinner at around 8.30. Our guidebooks informed us that there were a few bars in the northeast of the city close to the university area. So, we hailed a cab and pointed the driver in that direction. When we began to see neon, we jumped out and went in search of a brew. Sadly, we were fresh out of luck. All we could find were cheap hotpot restaurants and gaudy KTV (Karaoke) bars.
Thankfully, it was still pretty early. So, we had plenty of time to stumble on the right watering hole. However, with temperatures touching 15 degrees below zero, this was not a pleasant process. We trudged through the icy streets that surround the University of Inner Mongolia and the Agricultural University of Inner Mongolia to no avail. As my toes began to lose feeling and my lips began to go a rather worrying shade of blue, we opted to head towards the city centre. As we walked in frozen silence, I began to hear a muffled thumping noise. Through the fibres my woolly hat it began to get louder and louder. Soon, it became clear that it was the unmistakable beat of a nightclub. The only problem was, I could not locate the source of the noise.
After much umming, ahhing and wandering aimlessly, we managed to deduce that the noise was coming from a dark alleyway that contained old, and seemingly abandoned, warehouses. Feeling just a little trepidatious we inched along the alley towards the noise. We were greeted by a large, rusting iron doorway. We looked at each other with rather nervous expressions before casting caution to the wind and stepping inside. We were greeted by a large toothless, shaven-headed man wearing a padded Mao style jacket. He demanded 3rmb as a cover charge. He did not look the type of guy to argue with, so we parted with some crumpled bills and went up stairs.
The place looked every inch an abandoned warehouse. The floors were crumbling concrete, there was no heating – aside from body heat – and the staircase was metallic and covered in rust. However, as unwelcoming as the surroundings first appeared, the club proved to be fantastic – it rivalled even the best nights I have enjoyed in Beijing or Shanghai. It served frighteningly cold beer at just 4rmb a bottle and had a raised dance floor, upon which Inner Mongolian youngsters busted their best dance moves.
At first the atmosphere was one of caution. The locals were clearly not used to seeing foreigners in their club. So, as we mounted the dance floor, everyone seemed to stop and stare at us. As we began to gingerly strut our stuff, a huge circle appeared around us with around 15 Inner Mongolians simply watching us in silence. This certainly did not feel comfortable. So, we decided to quit the dance floor after the first song and to grab a couple more beers – for "a couple", read 6 or 7. It was as we sat at the side of the dance floor that I spotted the type of pole used by lap dancers on a podium close to the DJ. I pointed it out to Os and commented that if the Inner Mongolians were staring at us even if we just tried a little regular dancing, he should try his best pole dancer routine, that would surely grab their attention.
At first, the challenge was merely jovial. However, after a few more beers, my suggestions grew stronger and Os felt compelled to accept the challenge. So, he strode across the dance floor and up onto the podium next to the DJ. The music continued, but everything else seemed to stop. The crowd, the barman, the DJ and everyone in the club stared at Os as he began to spin and pirouhette around the pole. At first, it created an air of complete shock. However, after this wore off, people began to clap in time and Os's routine got the a huge ovation.