Shoppers search for bargains at the Silk Street market in Beijing. (Simon Dingley/CBC)

Shopping at Beijing's famous Silk Street market is all about poking, prodding and pushing, but it's the customers, not the goods, who are being mauled.

The Silk Street vendors — who sell everything from watches to wallets, ties to tea sets — have to be among the most aggressive business people in the world.

They literally run after you offering a better deal, wielding calculators from their hips like gunslingers. If you decline, they offer their "best price."

"You need shoes?" one barks in my face. Another, mere centimetres away, yells at me to buy a purse for my wife.

The exterior of the Silk Street market in Beijing. (Simon Dingley/CBC)

They have to be loud to compete against other vendors and to be heard over the din. Hands tug on my arms, trying to direct me into their booths.

As I walk down an aisle, a middle-aged woman literally grabs my arm and yanks me into her stall, hoping I'll buy some golf shirts. A petite young woman stands in the middle of another aisle, blocking my escape. When I try to go around her, she shifts on her feet like an NHL defenceman blocking a forward heading for the net.

You have to see this to believe it. For those who are not shoppers (i.e. me), the market can only be described as an assault on the senses. Within three minutes of strolling through its jam-packed aisles, I can't wait to get out.

Shopping as Olympic sport

The Silk Street market, known in Beijing as Xiushie Jiu, is a six-storey, 28,000-square metre building. Inside, more than 1,600 booths sell everything from draperies to jeans to electronics.

Some people here actually refer to it as the "Fakes Market." You can get some great deals, but it is notorious for knock-offs.

Canadian Silk Street shoppers, from left: Denis Belliveau, Leslie Belliveau, Noella TenEyck, and Carol Suffern. (Simon Dingley/CBC)

"Shopping here should be an Olympic sport," says Noella TenEyck, of North Bay, Ont., who came to Beijing for the Summer Games.

TenEyck found herself competing against vendors for the gold in the sport of haggling.

"It was culture shock," says TenEyck, who bought some jewelry for her daughter. "It's not something you do at your local store in your hometown. Some of them didn't like to budge, especially [at] the souvenir shops."

TenEyck's friend, Carol Suffern, of Aurora, Ont., considered herself a savvy shopper — until she took on the Silk Street mob.

"It is just a totally different world," she said. "They physically grabbed me. I'm not used to being touched, grabbed and cornered. They blocked my way.

"I was fresh and energetic when I went in; I was drained — exhausted — when I left. It was quite an experience. It's exhausting and overwhelming."

Suffern managed to escape with a shirt for just $6. It was all worth it.

"It's an experience; it really is," she said. "And you can get some amazing deals."

'Never make eye contact'

"As Canadians, we're not used to people being in our face when we're shopping," says Canadian Leslie Belliveau. "But as soon as you even look at something in there, they are on you right away."

Belliveau and her husband, Denis, are currently living in Mongolia, brought there by Denis's job in the coal industry. Belliveau visits Silk Street four or five times year and now basks in the bartering.

"I'm a shopper," she says. "I love the shopping here in China. I think it's the best … A [North Face] jacket, it's like $100 in Canada. You can buy it here for $20!"

She advises Canadians to forget the way they shop at home and adapt to the local culture. One tip she has for shoppers: never make eye contact with the vendors when walking through the market.

The dance of negotiaton

I took her advice and ventured back to the market looking for a gift for my wife.

I found a beautiful, brightly coloured silk scarf. The vendor said the price was 800 Chinese yuan (about $124). This is outrageously expensive, but I'd been told this might happen. Vendors sometimes ask sky-high prices in the hopes tourists will have trouble figuring out the exchange and pay the price.

A shoe vendor uses a Canadian flag to possibly entice some business at the Silk Street market. (Simon Dingley/CBC)

Belliveau had advised me to offer less than 10 per cent of the asking price.

So I countered: "30 yuan." That's about $4.60 Cdn. The vendor immediately countered with "30 dollars" (or about 195 yuan) — another attempt to throw me off my game.

And so the dance of negotiation began. Both of us tossed out figures. The vendor repeatedly asked me: "Why are you so tough?"

She tried to shame me into paying more. When that didn't work, she asked me how much I pay for coffee in Canada. I could tell where this was going.

She was suggesting I wanted to buy a silk scarf for the price of a cup of joe.

I responded: "I don't want to play the coffee game." The vendor then spat out in reply: "This is no game. This is no game!"

Again, I remembered Leslie Belliveau's advice: "Always be ready to walk away."

As I started to leave, the saleswoman's price dropped dramatically. We struck a deal: 70 yuan, or about $11, for the scarf.