Last weekend, Hannah and I decided that we fancied a trip out of Beijing to see other parts of China; less cosmopolitan areas where there are no western faces wandering importantly around. Looking at various train timetables we came across a place called Tianjin that was only one and a half hours away. That's positively next door for the Chinese, who will happily travel overnight in the most uncomfortable hard sleeper trains if it means they can buy some new shoes and a pair of mittens connected with string through their jacket sleeves.

We did a bit of research on Tianjin and, despite the fact that we'd never heard of it before, it turns out that it is the third largest city in China (behind first Shanghai and then Beijing). This means that, by population, it is bigger than any city in the UK, London included. Of course, now that we're Beijingers, it felt as if we were leaving the bright lights of the big city and venturing out into the wilderness of the countryside. Er, a wilderness of 10.2 million people. That's empty. Totally devoid of life.

We arrived at the main train station in Beijing (there are four in total), and somehow managed to convey to the ticket lady that we wanted two return tickets to Tianjin. It appeared that a good deal of grunting, wild gesticulation and endlessly repeating Tianjin worked marvellously. We were soon the proud holders of tickets departing at just past 2pm, and all for the equivalent of £4, not bad at all.

As the time of departure drew nearer, though, I couldn't help but think that what we were essentially doing was the rough equivalent of travelling from Birmingham to Manchester for the day for no other reason than to have a wander around and see what it's like. Who would do that? It occurred to me that it could be very similar to Beijing only with less westerners. Still, it was a day trip, which in essence made it feel a bit like a one day holiday.

We got to the platform with plenty of time to spare and to our delight a gleaming new train that had a front end like the cockpit of a concorde stood waiting for us. Maybe, I thought quietly, this is like one of those Japanese bullet trains and will travel at something just past light speed. I boarded in a state of wild excitement, thinking that before long we were about to prove that Stephen Hawking was actually talking complete rubbish about how fast it was possible to move. The seats were comfortable looking and could be moved forward (so that you crushed your knees on the seat in front of you) or back (so that you crushed the knees of the person sitting behind you), as well as tilt the back rest so that you could (if the urge overtook you) end up leaning forward as though to brace for a crash or find yourself lying the the lap of a stranger and looking sheepishly into their eyes (as a quick aside, when we disembarked at Tianjin, we noticed that the entire rows of seats were actually being turned around so that travellers were only ever facing the direction of travel. These really were the best train seats in the world!).

The train actually departed early (what?!) so it was lucky we had decided to get to the platform early after all and we settled down, hoping to catch at least a glimpse of beautiful country scenery as the train rattled on at ludicrous speed. We were disappointed, both with the velocity of the train and the countryside visible outside. We realised quickly that the train wouldn't even be approaching the speed of the concorde it looked like, let alone the light speed I had hoped for (an apology here to Stephen Hawking; it turns out he was right after all). In fact, I was sure that the subway trains travel faster (an LED screen was actually telling us that it was shifting along at a not-at-all-slow speed of 195 kph - about 120 mph). Worse than that was the view out of the windows. I knew Beijing was a massive place but it seemed to extend all the way to the city limits of Tianjin, which of course is itself also huge. It was as though we had travelled down a special corridor filled with dull, grey and dirty buildings, dilapidated Hutongs (traditional Chinese communal dwellings) and concrete wastelands. We instead spent the journey chatting amiably to a local student, who looked at us with polite incredulity when we announced that we were going to Tianjin for the day and then hastily tried to assure us that it really wasn't that bad a place at all. We had been told that we could actually go to a beach in Tianjin (not a brilliant time of year to visit but we still thought it would be nice to see the sea) and when we asked the kindly student how it would be best to get there, she looked pityingly at us (was it pity, amusement at the foreign idiots sitting next to her or a mixture of both?) and told us that we had been severely mislead. Our hopes of seeing the sea dashed, we asked more about Tianjin, a subject on which the she was curiously silent.

We arrived in Tianjin and my first impression was that it was a dreadful place. The sky above, so clear and blue in Beijing, had become gun metal grey, matching the buildings and colour of the city itself. I thought my fears were confirmed when, as we walked out of the train station, a vast quantity of taxi drivers descended upon us screeching that they would give us a cheap ride straight back to Beijing. Either they didn't want us in their city or they thought that the city was so awful that they didn't want us to spend more than six seconds there and sully our vision of China thus far. Either way, the prospect that awaited us did not look good. We eventually found a taxi driver that would actually take us into the heart of the city instead of all the way home, although it took some persuasion (my memory is telling me that I dragged him by his hair out of the taxi, gave him a power slam, the people's elbow and a head lock before he reluctantly agreed to our wishes).

It turns out that the station (of which there are three in Tianjin and even now I have a nagging suspicion that we got a train to the wrong station in order to visit Tianjin) is absolutely miles away from the centre. We spent a good half an hour in the taxi and what we were seeing as we drove didn't make us feel any better about our decision. But then the taxi rounded a corner and we found ourselves in the middle of an actually quite attractive, bustling but pedestrianised shopping precinct (naturally the taxi driver ignored the fact that no cars were allowed and deposited us halfway along the walkway). We had a good look around and our meanderings then found us in an old fashioned Hutong that specialised in selling various different Chinese antiques. Massive vases sat precariously on rickety tables, displayed alongside huge bladed swords of all sorts (including, I'm sure of it, a Scottish Claymore), old and dusty guitars and instruments of all kinds lining the walkway. The Chinese also have a curious affinity for old, hardened walnuts as decorative items and almost every doorway and cardboard box sported a huge collection of walnuts for discerning customers to sort through and buy. Crowds of old men were sitting huddled on upturned crates playing Chinese checkers or various card games, whilst every so often small queues developed around window openings which issued forth copious amounts of smoke/steam which smelled enticingly of food - pancakes, rice and noodle dishes or different types of dumplings, a Tianjin speciality. Every time we passed a group of people, eating or selling their wares, we were beckoned over or approached and given the hard sell. Well, we thought it was the hard sell because they spoke purely in Chinese but they looked happy to see people looking interestedly at their goods and were simply delighted if we smiled and laughed with them at what they were saying (I wonder still if they were laughing at us but I don't want to spoil my impression of that place, so I choose to think they were being decent and kind, as most Chinese people we have met have actually been).

We walked throughout these Hutongs, looking at its various offerings and marvelling at what people had to sell. It reminded me strongly of a kind of eBay made physical and existing only the in these alleyways. I felt quite privileged to have seen it all. The rest of the town centre wasn't quite as exciting as the old Hutongs were, being much more modern and a lot like Beijing, but there was still plenty to offer, including the first Christian church we had seen in China (I'm sure there are some in Beijing but we haven't seen any). It had a huge display of the stable where Jesus was born and the wise men visiting and bearing their gifts. It suddenly brought home the fact that Christmas is now very close and this was the first thing we had seen that was telling us precisely how close. Otherwise Beijing and Tianjin appear happily oblivious (apart from tacky strings of lights here and there) to the approaching festive period.

We managed to get a cab back to the station, making sure, of course, that we arrived early, and sure enough it left Tianjin earlier than stated. We arrived back in Beijing at about 8.45pm wondering if Tianjin is actually worth a day trip but feeling that we had had an adventure and at least seen another part of China.