From Beijing back to Baltimore
Well, this is it. The final column has been sent and the bags are packed.
Carmelo Anthony has won his gold medal. The closing ceremony has exploded every firework within 1,000 kilometers of the Bird's Nest. Michael Phelps was in London for the torch handoff -- the same city we'll see him in four years from now. My esteemed colleague Kevin has already landed at BWI. And I'm headed to the Beijing airport myself later today.
Our final recap was published in Sunday's paper. Kevin and I tried to keep to the spirit of this blog, using a dialogue format to discuss the highs and lows of the past couple of weeks.
I hope you enjoyed your time here; I know we did. And if you happened to miss anything, here's a recap of this blog's highs, lows and all the Michael Phelps updates you could ever want.
-- We visited the Great Wall. And it was Great. And it was a Wall.
-- We lamented the president; we celebrated the president.
-- We learned that KVV knows his way around a digital camera.
-- In an exclusive video (!!!), we quizzed the fine people of China about Phelps.
-- Which would you rather have -- a gold medal or a Ravens autographed jersey?
-- We learned about those 'mean streets' on which Phelps grew up.
-- Kevin did his best to make Mark Spitz cry.
-- We debated the merits of the iPod and explored the idea of musical doping.
-- The Sun talked to Phelps' dad; tabloids everywhere got jealous.
-- We caught up with Katie Hoff when her Olympics had concluded.
-- We chatted with Phelps' first coach, Phelps' biographer, Phelps' mom and Phelps himself.
-- And we stood in absolute amazement at Phelps winning eight gold medals.
-- We scolded you for caring so much about Phelps' relationship status.
-- And we looked ahead at what the future might hold for the Greatest Olympian Ever.
And what does the future hold for us? Hopefully London in 2012. Until then ...
Angela Williams and Maryland native 
We arrived for a Phelps-related appearance this week an hour early, certain that our cab driver would get lost, as every other one had. Oddly, he didn’t, so we had an hour to kill and wandered into a restaurant called Fat Mother for lunch. It was a hot pot restaurant and there was a hole in the middle of our table with a burner beneath it. Once we ordered our soup broth, a pot was placed in the hole and it wasn’t long before the soup inside started boiling. We’d innocently ordered a chili soup, thinking we could tackle the fiery challenge. With red peppers floating, the soup looked very much like a thin lava. We’d soon learn that it tasted this way, as well. The Fat Mother staff brought trays of food to our table -- mushrooms, spinach, beef, prawns, potato noodles, ham. Using chopsticks, we dumped or dunked our food item in the soup, allowing it to cook sufficiently before pulling it out, cooling it off with a peanut dipping sauce and partaking. It was relatively easy to eat -- mostly because after just a bit of it hit your mouth, your tongue went instantly numb. Like I said, we mistakenly ordered the lava soup. The heat never seemed to cool. We went through a pair of Cokes apiece and I had a pile of about a half-dozen crumpled napkins that had tended to my running nose. The eyes and antennae scared Kevin from even biting into a prawn, but he didn’t want to hurt Fat Mother’s feelings, so he dunked half the slimy critters into the bottom of the soup. We had a sense of accomplishment from dipping into the volcano in the middle of our table and bragged to many people throughout the day. Unfortunately, only three or four hours passed before my stomach began to rumble. It felt like a troop of 12-year-old Chinese gymnasts were performing deep inside me. Needless to say, Fat Mother left a lasting impression.
We’ve had a couple of meals here that cost in the $25-$50 range. But my best meal came from outside of Beijing and cost about a dollar. Visiting the Sechuan province, devastated by an earthquake four months ago, we stopped and ordered a bowl of noodles from a storefront restaurant. We ate on a picnic table set up on the sidewalk. The noodles were in a spicy broth -- tolerable but noticeable -- and also had parsley and a fried egg. The flavor was thick and soothing, hitting your nose long before the chopsticks even reached your mouth. The meal was packed with superlatives: For this trip, it was the cheapest meal, the biggest serving and a taste I’ll dream about back home.
We visited part of the Great Wall before the Games began and stopped at a nearby restaurant after. Kevin ordered a fish dish and the staff didn't have to look far. There was a cement pond near the parking lot with a couple of dozen fish inside. Before long, Flounder went from a gay afternoon swim to his spot as a centerpiece on our table. This restaurant, like many here, featured family-style dining. As a rule, I don't eat food that's staring back at me, but Kevin still claims this as his best meal in Beijing. Of course, Kevin's been so busy on the Phelps beat, that he has little to compare it with. The fish is No. 1 in his book; the McDonald's value meal is No. 2. 
How you meet Phelps: Just lead a multi-gabillion dollar company and be willing to flash that corporate cash. Swimming eight races in nine days was nothing compared to Michael Phelps' busy schedule in the days since. It's certainly been a whirlwind, and because Phelps himself can't quite keep it straight, please forgive me if I've left out any corporate appearances here. 
In celebration of the 2008 Olympic Games, Hilton Hotels & Resorts partnered with the USA Swimming Foundation and embarked on an ambitious relay of 6,250 laps – each lap symbolizing one of the miles between Los Angeles, the relay’s starting point, and Beijing. The "Hilton Swim to Beijing Relay" began with a splash at the Hilton Universal City in Los Angeles where Phelps swam the initial lap in November 2007. After making its way through five U.S. cities, the "Hilton Swim to Beijing Relay" concluded with a ceremonial final lap by Phelps in the pool of the Hilton Beijing following his final competition of the 2008 Olympic Games. 
Team USA absolutely manhandled the Germans on Monday night. You wonder why? It's not hard to figure out. They had Michael Phelps in the crowd.
OK, OK. One Melo quote. But that's it. Don't get greedy.
This morning brought about a stunning realization. We woke up way too early -- as is the norm here -- and went downstairs to catch a shuttle bus, as we had every other morning. But then, nothing. There would be no visit to the Water Cube, our home and work station for nine straight days.