The last time Kim Jong-il was driven through the streets of Beijing, in May 1983, he saw a depressed, impoverished city with few cars, hardly any modern hotels or stores, political slogans everywhere, and officials wearing high-collared Mao suits. It looked in other words like the North Korean capital, Pyongyang, does today.
Last Monday Mr Kim, now North Korea's "Great Leader", arrived once more in Beijing, having taken the momentous decision to leave his near-starving hermit kingdom for the first time in 17 years. One can only imagine his reaction at seeing the transformation of a communist neighbour which has taken a different road to socialism.
On emerging from Beijing East railway station onto Beijingzhan Street in a government limousine he was undoubtedly overwhelmed by the mad throng of taxis and cars jostling for space in both directions. Crossing over and glancing to his right, the first establishment he would have seen was PJ. O'Reilly's Irish Pub, one of two Irish bars in Beijing, followed by Subway Sandwiches, Pizza Factory, Quickprint, the Boutique Coffee Shop and Gourmet Paradise.
His eyes would have been drawn up behind them to the shining marble pile of the Henderson Centre, developed by Hong Kong's Henderson Group, popular with Beijingers for its designer stores, fancy supermarket and Universal Studios Experience. Behind it he might just have glimpsed Cofco Plaza, where fashionably-dressed young people chat on mobile telephones at the open-air Starbuck's Cafe, or queue for cash at ATMs.
Turning left onto the wide, tree-lined Jianguomenwai Avenue, the city's main drag, Kim would have observed a steady stream of environment-friendly gas-fuelled Jingua buses, and traffic wardens in smart yellow and brown caps, recently introduced to regulating parking now that traffic has got so heavy.
Heading east the small motorcade, not flying flags in keeping with Mr Kim's desire for secrecy until he had returned home after two days, would have passed Beijing's latest modern hotel, the Jianguo Garden, which until recently was a party propaganda building known as the China Women's Activity Centre, but now has blue-uniformed bellboys and $100-a-night rooms.
He would barely have had time to take in the neon palm trees at the Second Ring Road junction, the smart Plexiglas telephone booths along the tiled pavements, the chrome and glass-encased advertisements for Sun Asia holidays ("Come scuba diving with us!"), and Internet commerce sites with names like gotrade.com and chinashirts.com, before his hosts were pointing out to him modern Beijing's pride and joy.
This is the immense glassfronted Oriental Plaza, a $2 billion development with eight office towers, a 600-room hotel, two blocks of serviced apartments, a convention centre and five shopping malls, which is due to open shortly.
No doubt they didn't mention that the 300,000 sq m of new office space will cause a major property glut in Beijing, or that the developer, capitalist tycoon Li Ka-shing, chairman of Hong Kong's giant Cheung Kong Holdings, beat Chinese President Jiang Zemin into second place last year in an Asiaweek poll to establish the most powerful figures in Asia.
Just past the plaza, on the same side of the avenue, Mr Kim could have looked briefly down Wanfujing Street, recently turned into an upscale pedestrian precinct at a cost of $1 billion, and spotted signs for Konica, Hitachi, Sir Mark Williams, Polo Shoes Collection, Buson International and McDonald's, and a giant model of an Omega watch which serves as a street clock (though it's stopped at ten-to-three).
Glancing to his left, he could not have missed the rows of Audis, Toyota Crowns, Peugeots and Mercedes parked outside the granite-fronted Chang An Club, where the Chinese elite like to sip cocktails and indulge in activities like tennis, ballet classes, and wine tastings - the next one features Lindemans's Australian Sauvignon Blanc and Bin 65 Chardonnay.
Immediately after this, the limousine would have carried Mr Kim into the very heart of Beijing, Tiananmen Square, and at last the Great Leader would have come face-to-face with the image of someone of like mind, the Great Helmsman himself, Mao Zedong, whose giant portrait hangs above the Gate of Heavenly Peace.
He can have taken little consolation, however, from the fact that he was virtually the only person in the whole of Beijing wearing the same approved communist attire as Mao. This undoubtedly underlined what by now must have been glaringly obvious to Mr Kim, that both he and Mao belong to a different era and that history has passed both of them by.