I knew my reporting days in China were over when I got the plate. The plate is a black enamel disc with ancient Chinese designs, presented by the Foreign Ministry to departing Beijing correspondents. So I have something to show for more than four years as Asia Correspondent of The Irish Times. I also take away with me many good memories. I will miss Chinese courtesy and friendliness, wonderful Chinese food, many good friends, and a never-ending supply of fascinating stories. The Beijing I leave is a more user-friendly city now - at least for foreigners - than when I first arrived. In four years the skyline from my apartment window has taken on the appearance of Manhattan. Once-grey apartment blocks have been painted in pink and blue. High-rise flats have replaced the old courtyards and narrow laneways teaming with life which made Beijing unique. Pavements have been paved, lawns have been laid and trees have been planted along main roads.
Neon now cascades from buildings and bridges. International cuisine is flourishing. Coffee shops, non-existent four years ago in this tea-drinking city, have colonised street corners. There is even a Starbucks in the Forbidden City. Grimy old Beijing is becoming like Hong Kong or Singapore. With the smog and dust storms, it is still something of a hardship posting for foreigners, though they can today move to villas on the outskirts. It is a difficult place for foreign journalists to work. Political debate is stifled. There are no "leaks" from government. Unsupervised interviews with ordinary people are discouraged. Foreign reporters may write what they like - but within limits.
To interview a leader of the banned Falun Gong spiritual movement is to invite expulsion. The leadership must also not be insulted. "Just don't refer to Li Peng as `the butcher of Tiananmen'," advised a colleague after I arrived. I never did. In four years I got two complaints from the Foreign Ministry about my reporting. Once an official rang to point out that I had (inadvertently) referred to the People's Republic of China as the Republic of China, which is what Taiwan calls itself. On another occasion an official objected to The Irish Times referring (in a headline) to Tibet as a country. Tibet is officially a province. We can travel more or less where we like in China, except Tibet. Tourists can go without hindrance, but resident foreign correspondents need permission. Many never get it. I was allowed into Tibet once by the Foreign Ministry. I was given permission to go a second time, to report on Mrs Mary Robinson's visit to Lhasa. This right was withdrawn when the UN Commissioner for Human Rights objected. The authorities sometimes arrange trips to the provinces, which can be genuinely informative. The State Council once invited me on a weeklong journey down the great Yangtze River, with surprising access to angry people displaced by the rising waters from the great dam. Otherwise when travelling we are supposed to notify the foreign affairs department, or waiban in each province. The waibans sometimes obstruct rather than assist correspondents, so it is often better just to get on a plane and go. But that can get tricky. I was hauled in by the police once for interviewing people in Fujian Province about emigration. I was sent back to Beijing after the following exchange: "You have no permission to conduct interviews." "Will you give me permission?" "No." Such skirmishes are routine. Officials end up asking politely about things that really interest them, like what we foreigners get paid. Beijing now has a Foreign Correspondents' Club. As a founder member I was given membership number 8, which is regarded as lucky by the Chinese. Certainly I was extraordinarily lucky to work in such a fascinating country at a time of great change.
The club is not as grand as in other cities. It has no bar or permanent premises, but it provides a really essential service - an annual Christmas party. I'll miss that too.