Farewell for Now, Laitai Flower Market: On Eucalyptus and Haggling

With news of Laitai Flower Market set to close indefinitely for renovations from Apr 30 onwards (in Chinese), we take a moment to experience the market through a new arrival's eyes and relive the struggles we've all navigated at one point or another.

I like to have eucalyptus in my home. I’m not Australian, but the fragrance is clean, soothing, and I just like it. I thought it would be cheap in Beijng. We’re close to Australia, after all, right? No? Anyway, a recent trip to a flower market left me with sticker – or, lack of sticker, more accurately – shock.

Unlike Paris or New York, there aren’t cheap flower shops on every corner in this city, so I sought out a local hub for all things floral, finding the Laitai Flower Market in Sanyuanqiao.

The indoor market was renovated in 2017, though a casual visitor wouldn’t know it. Half the market is lined with aisles of blooming orchids, snake plants, succulents, and cut flowers. The other half features aisles for pottery and artisan goods, though about half the storefronts seemed empty or under construction. A work in progress, we’ll call it. It’s a glorified mall that doubles as a greenhouse, with enough oxygen to make visitors dizzy.

The plant section was well-stocked, however, with every item a green-thumb could want. I finally found the cut flowers to the far end. It’s adjacent to the aisle with the fish, hamsters, and turtles, for those willing to risk responsibility beyond a houseplant.

Vendors approached, trying to seduce me, but I ignored them, politely. I think. I knew what I wanted and spotted the branches, large, healthy-looking ones that florists used as filler for bouquets. The vendor came up to me and we struggled through my lack of Mandarin and her nonexistent English, managing to count out three branches. Then I noticed there was no price attached. Not to the eucalyptus. Not to anything.

I opened my WeChat to pay and she said the price three times, as if I’d learn implicitly after the second try. I did not. I pulled out a calculator and she typed “70.” I balked a little but figured this was the price, though only after paying did I realize that was more expensive than anything I’d buy in Paris or New York. Perhaps too expensive. Still not a lot, I know, but it was more than I expected.

I considered it an investment and paraded my eucalyptus home through the subway to a reasonable amount of stares. Only upon discussing with a few other time-hardened foreigners did I learn that I was meant to haggle the price down and never accept the first bid. I didn’t think Beijing was like some Moroccan souk, but the next time I stock up on plants, I’ll be prepared with my numbers and the phrases needed to pay a more reasonable price.

In any case, the market has a full selection of decorative plants and bouquets, but it’s probably not worth the trek for casual visitors not looking to buy – unless said visitor is really, really into flowers.

Phrases in Mandarin wish I knew beforehand:

• How much?
• That’s ridiculously/too expensive.
• No, cheaper.

Still haven't mastered the art of haggling? Have a gander at our guide to getting the best Beijing bargains.

Photo: ecns.cn