BEIJING, China - Outside the National Stadium, about half an hour before the men's 110-meter hurdles early heats were to get under way Monday morning, touts were selling tickets from 1,000-2,000 RMB ($145-290) for the night's competition. Average face value for those same tickets: 50-200 RMB. 

Tickets to Olympics events are scarce and pricey.

"I've got diving"

"What do you want?" 

"How much do you want to pay?"

"Do you want tickets or not?"

A veritable tickets bazaar stretching more than a kilometer exists along the stretch of road between the Water Cube and the Bird's Nest, parallel to the North Fourth Ring Road.

People will get on their mobile phones or try to find their associates along the stretch if they think you want the tickets - at any cost. But the question is, how much do you want the tickets?

Don't waste their time if you want to pay only double the price.

You are more likely to find a variety of tickets at this bazaar. But if you decide at the last minute to get a ticket to the event, your best bet is to stand as close to the spectator's entrance as possible for the best chance at securing a ticket at the lowest price possible. Perhaps you'd be lucky to find someone who wants to unload a ticket and go in.

As for securing a ticket to see the morning's hurdles event at the last minute - from which Chinese superstar and defending Olympic champion Liu Xiang would ultimately withdraw – I found nothing less than 2,000 RMB.

On this very sidewalk, Cheng Quan was clutching three tickets, joking to his older sister, "How much?"

But they were not selling. The two and their dad had just bought three tickets - two together, the other on the exact opposite of the stadium - for tonight's athletics competition. They paid three times the face value of the tickets - 3,600 RMB total for three tickets worth 400 RMB each.

It'd be their first Olympics event since arriving here a couple days ago.

"I don't know if Liu Xiang will be there, but I am still super excited," said Cheng Chuan's sister, Cheng Fang, 21.

Getting tickets in Zhengzhou, Henan province, where they're from was difficult, said their father, Cheng Bao Ming. In Henan, it wasn't clear how to buy tickets. If he'd come to Beijing to buy tickets, he'd have to wait in line for three days before tickets went on sale.

Cheng likes basketball, but those tickets are very hard to find. He said he'd be happy with "whatever tickets we can get."

The family took an overnight train from Henan, a journey of more than seven hours. During the week they're here, they plan to check out the Great Wall at Badaling and the funky district of Houhai.

Being in Henan during the Olympics wouldn't be the same, said Cheng Fang. "It's not the Bird's Nest. You don't get the atmosphere."

Besides, she added, "You can't see it unless you get the tickets."

BEIJING, China – As I approached the entry to the Bird's Nest stadium this morning, an Olympic volunteer stood outside the portal, like the door into a secret garden. I'd long desired to see what was inside the Bird's Nest with my own eyes, and the moment had arrived. When I crossed the threshold, I had to step aside to take it all in. It is a beautiful stadium. At first glance it appears more intimate and smaller than I'd imagined, a feat considering the stadium's 91,000 seating capacity.

An Olympic volunteer leads cheers at the Bird's Nest during the women's marathon.

This would be where the women's marathon would end in about two and a half hours.

The big question: Would world record holder Paula Radcliffe of Great Britain redeem herself after she failed to finish at Athens in 2004? The race soon began, and Athens bronze medalist Deena Kastor of the United States was the first casualty, falling off within the first 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, the cheering sections on both ends of the stadium were doing a Chinese version of the wave, a ripple of yellow flags and noise sticks going up a section rather than across. These volunteer cheerleaders in yellow were the heart and spirit of the stadium.

Ribbon dancers, tai chi performers with fans, roller bladers, bikers, performers of an elaborate jump rope routine and of the Chinese yo-yo stretched across the entire length of the stadium in a sea of red, white, blue and green during different "acts" of the performance.

You cannot deny the sincere excitement of people here in Beijing.

To see Chang'an Avenue closed to all but some 80 runners as they passed the Gate of Heavenly Peace, bearing Mao's portrait, you couldn't help but feel wonder while sitting in the stadium among so many Chinese.

China's Zhou Chunxiu and Zhu Xiaolin, who were in the lead pack, received a big cheer every time they appeared on the Jumbotron. When Radcliffe faltered and then resumed running, claps and cheers of encouragement also went out: Jia you ("Go").

By the time Romania's Constantina Tomescu-Dita entered the stadium, her gold was already a foregone conclusion.

Her journey down the homestretch coincided with the stadium entrance of Zhou and Kenya's Catherine Ndereba, the Athens silver medalist, closely followed by Zhu and Kenya's Martha Komu.

The stadium was on its feet as Zhou and Ndereba traded spots as they ran around the track until Ndereba stretched her lead and beat Zhou by a second to take the silver. "I wasn't nervous," said Tan Chen whose family represented three generations at the event. "I was supporting everyone," he said, waving his Chinese and Olympic flags.

An equally poignant moment was when Radcliffe entered the stadium, cheered on by the crowd. Never mind that she ended 23^rd. She'd run through an injury, and she finished.

One of the biggest cheers of all came when Gabriela Trana of Costa Rica entered the stadium, nearly half an hour after Tomescu-Dita. As she rounded the corner, the people in yellow were at their cheering best, while the tai chi performers waved their fans to her.

That cheer was soon outdone by the one that rang around the entire stadium for Ukraine's Oksana Sklyarenko, the last to finish a marathon in which a dozen didn't. It was as if she had won.

BEIJING, China - A 10-15 minute walk away from the Bird's Nest, where ticket touts were offering tickets for the day's events for 800-2,500 RMB ($116-$364), a group of four people sat in the shade watching the women's 100-meter preliminary heats on a jumbo screen.

The group watches the Olympic events from the Jumbtron within 15 minutes from the Bird's Nest.

They'd been there watching the screen by the North Star Times Tower since 6 a.m., about five hours now. The TV screen didn't come on until 9 a.m., but they spent that time talking, said Chen Huayong, a construction worker from Shandong.

He and the other three come here just about every day to watch the Olympics.  They don't have a TV where they're staying.

They all know each other from the construction business but had nothing to do with the Olympics.

Chen said that he took a temporary job in Beijing in order to be near the Games. "If it weren't for the Olympics, I wouldn't have come so far to be here," he said.

Being in Shandong, 550 kilometers (350 miles) away from Beijing and watching the Olympics on television, Chen wouldn't have the same feeling as he would here, he said. "I feel closer here. We are close to the venues ... though it's not like watching inside, it's still closer than my home."

He added, "My heart feels – how should I describe it. I don't have the adjectives to describe. I just can't describe it. I'm quite excited."

Chen says he makes about 1,000 RMB ($145) a month. "I couldn't buy tickets," Chen said, adding that he didn't ask the price. For most people, tickets are too expensive, he acknowledged. Besides, the tickets were sold out. However, Paralympics tickets were on sale, he said.

An image of spectators taking in the women's 100-meter heats flashed on the screen. "That's inside the Bird's Nest," Chen said.

"The men's 100-meter final is tonight," said He Zhun, another construction worker who's a Beijing resident.

At 12 p.m., the sound to the giant TV comes on. Prior to that, the action was broadcast in mute, but the group was unfazed. Meanwhile, other curious people joined in watching for a while before leaving.

Chen said he most wants to see countryman Liu Xiang, who will run in the 110-meter hurdles event on Monday. Chen also likes football but, when asked about Yao Ming, replied that he didn't care much about basketball.

Among the group were Chen's co-worker, Hou Zai Zhun, of Hebei, and his 13-year-old daughter, Hou Qi, whose favorite sport was diving.

On the screen appeared a replay of Michael Phelps' gold medal win in the men's 100-meter butterfly earlier in the morning.

"Fay-er pu-si (Phelps) ... he wasn't winning until the very end," Chen said, while glancing at the screen, referring to Phelps' win over Milorad Cavic by a hundredth of a second.

The news came on. The group watched for half an hour. Would they return? "Whenever they broadcast the sports, we'll watch it."

It was time to leave for lunch.

BEIJING, China - As heats in the women's 100-meter freestyle and men's 200-meter backstroke began earlier this week inside the National Aquatics Center, unofficial hawkers sold T-shirts and flags, stickers and headbands to people milling outside.

An officer at a security checkpoint rejected media reports of empty seats inside, claiming tickets at the venue had been sold out.

One of the people who drew a crowd was Chen Guanming, a 53-year-old from Jiangsu who says he rode his "sanlunche," or rickshaw, for the past seven years on a 65,000-kilometer solo journey across China. He arrived in Beijing exactly one month ago.

Admirers went up to Chen and his bicycle to have their pictures taken with him or his messages written on their arms or clothes. One man's pant leg bore Chen's message: "Zhongguo Jiayou!", or "China, good luck!" - a popular chant at Olympic venues.

Sporting a red cap, and a white T-shirt with an Olympic torch and Chinese flag, Chen said he started his journey across China's valleys and mountains in 2001 when the country won its bid to host the Olympic Games.

The journey was aimed at promoting "The People's Olympics, the Green Olympics," he said in touting two of Beijing's three concepts for the Games. (Notably, he didn't mention the third concept - "Hi-tech" Olympics.)

Chen, a farmer, says the trip took him to 1,120 cities in every province. "The bike is my house," he added, saying that it carried his blankets, bike tools, clothes, and banners to promote his trip.

At one point, he didn't see anybody for 15 days. He said the most difficult part was in September to December 2005 when he was in Tibet, where he ate melted ice from mountains and endured minus -20 degrees Celsius.

Such bitter hardship and endurance evoked the Olympic spirit of athletes and Chinese culture, he said.

The only place he didn't make in China, he said, was "Treasure Island - Taiwan," he said.

Not far away, Zhang Yeqin and his wife sat on a curb, among many soaking in the atmosphere. The Zhangs were taking a walk after dinner after dusk when they decided to sit down. Their son worked at one of the venues.

For the past seven years, Zhang came to the spot and watched "venues come from out of the ground." He recorded the changes with his camera, he said.

"I feel very, very proud. Very, very honored," he said.

Beijing would have developed and improved without the Olympics, Zhang said. But the Games sped up the process by 20-30 years, he said.

Jiang Hui, a tourist taking pictures of the Water Cube and the Bird's Nest, had traveled from Hunan. She'd been in Beijing for 10 days, had caught the Opening Ceremony on television with her family and was to see her first Olympics event - basketball  – this week.

Her sister lives in Beijing and had obtained the tickets, she said. The game was the only opportunity she'd get. On Saturday, she returns home. "It's back to work," she said.

BEIJING, China - Cuba and the U.S. took their baseball rivalry to Wukesong today under blue skies. Halfway through the game, however, the event that was drawing some people in the outfield bleachers to the top row wasn't that game, but the one behind it.

People stood on seats, as Olympic volunteers told them to get down for safety's sake, only to stand on tiptoes and crane their necks to get a glance of the scoreboard, as the China-Taiwan game was ratcheting up.

Taiwan was the first to get on the scoreboard with a run each in the fifth and sixth innings. Not until the eighth inning did China get into business with three.

Chien Bei, who's from Taiwan and was at the Cuba-US game, said he ran to the outfield stand after sitting in the section behind first base, where he said people were using binoculars to watch. Like many, he couldn't get tickets to the China-Taiwan game.

"We hope both sides will win, but when the two play, you can't say both will win together."

Down in the section by third base, Andro Vasquez of Havana, Cuba, was surrounded by fans for his country as well as those for the U.S. Two Americans screamed, "Jia you mei guo" ("GO USA!"), while the Cubans behind them yelled back, "Jia you Cu-Ba!" ("Go Cuba!")

Vasquez said the feeling during the game was one of friendship.

"Sometimes, we bring beers, give it to them. Sometimes, they bring beers to us."

"There is a lot of friendship between the two countries, despite what all our people say," he said.

China beat Taiwan 8-7 in 12 innings. Cuba beat the U.S. 5-4 in 11 innings.

BEIJING, China - Sitting in a taxi stuck in traffic somewhere in China's capital, I couldn't help but think what traffic must be like if the other "half" of the cars were on the same road at 5:30 p.m. to 6 p.m. during the afternoon commute. The license plate numbers indicated that today was an "even" day, meaning that cars with plates ending in an even number could hit the road today, while the odd ones take a rest. And the reverse will occur tomorrow.

Taxis are exempt from the odd-even license plate road plan.

This traffic control plan was put in place on July 20 for the Olympic Games and will remain in effect until September 20, three days after the end of the Paralympics. The government this week said the rule resulted in about 2 million cars off the streets and the reduction of daily emissions by at least a fifth.

This morning, I took the subway. Not only did a volunteer stand by the ticket dispenser machine - giving me change when I had only bills - another volunteer was downstairs ensuring that people who were confused would find the right way.

So if you're in a hurry and don't know your way around Beijing, take the subway, using taxis to and from your end-point subway stations. Buses are a fine way to orient yourself above ground, and if you actually have the time to kill and welcome adventure, I suggest hopping on the bus of your destination and then hopping off when a point of interest comes along. I did that once from Beijing University to Tiananmen Square, hopping off the bus when an inviting restaurant with large red paper lanterns caught my eye, and it turned out to be a "jiaozi" (dumpling) restaurant with hundreds of different fillings and a menu that carried the pictures of prior guests, including none other than Karl Rove and Colin Powell.

Beijing is a huge metropolis, with a total area of some 16,800 square kilometers, and six ring roads. Blocks in many parts of the city can be as gigantic as those in Las Vegas, thanks to very large buildings that have been erected.

Still, the best way to explore the city is to take a neighborhood, particularly in the historic core, and walk. There is plenty to see and places to happily lose yourself here in Beijing.