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| Journal - |
| October 21st, 2006 > The GREAT Great Wall of China |
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| I awoke with a start at 3AM, my right arm completely numb and my body cooled to the temperature of the flagstones upon which I lay. The fire had all but died, but more to the point, I could hear a dog barking very near by. I rushed to my lookout post, from where I had a commanding view of our surroundings. Watching for some time, from the tone of the bark it was clear the dog was simply lost and posed no threat of human companions.
How did I end up sleeping rough in a watchtower, on the Great Wall of China? It started with an early morning knock on my door in Beijing; I opened it to a French man who looked like John Travolta. ¡°I saw your notice on the board and am keen to come along¡±! I sleepily agreed to meet later on to discuss the technicalities of an independent, tourist free, trip to the wall. At six o¡¯clock the following morning, Joseph (it turns out he is not French at all, but from Belgium) and I set off through the city to find the long distance bus station at Dongzhimen. I am excited at the prospect of an adventure, for we really do not know what to expect or even exactly what we are going to do; all we know is that bus 916 goes to Mutianyu, and that is good enough for now. Conversation flows freely between us as we ride the bus; Joseph is clearly going to be good company. He is the same age as me, far better looking and with more hair, taking a career break from IT. It is his first big trip, and has ridden the train from Moscow, originally planning on going right through to Hanoi; but has since decided to spend some time in China. Good choice, I say. At our destination, the driver disembarks with us and wants to know our plans. We have to organise a connection to the foot of the hills, and he seems keen to help. As is the case all over this country, folk are always happy to earn an extra few Yuan, so after some prolonged haggling we jump into his car and head off into the unknown. Our start point was a short restored section of the Great Wall, known as Mutianyu. It is a mere four or so kilometres long and about four hundred metres above sea level. It is one of the less frequented sections, certainly at this time of year, but nonetheless we still had to run the gauntlet past several traders, each contending for our attention in their own, mostly noisy, way. We already had food supplies, but both purchased a cheap fleece top, in readiness for a cold night. |
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| So what does it cost in China? |
| The Chinese currency is the Renminbi (RMB). It is divided into ten yuan, which is again divided into ten jiao, the latter having so little value it is rarely used. EXCHANGE RATES GBP 1 - 14.6 RMB USD 1 - 7.9 RMB EUR 1 - 9.8 RMB check latest here Typical daily costs are now around Y20 p/n accommodation. A 630ml bottle of Tsing Tao beer (good) will cost a staggering Y2 (yes, that is true). Bottle of spring water - Y5 Full meal in local eatery Y10 - 20 A local bus ride Y3 Internet use, per hour Y2 I am living well on Y100 per day, obviously this goes up with travel and attractions. |
| Need to post me something? Read on... I will be in Bangkok for a few days in early December, and will be able to pick up poste restaurante from the Post Office there. Look out soon for details of how to post me stuff.... (money especially welcome)! |
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| Stepping on the wall for the first time, for me personally was an ambition finally realised. I was not to be disappointed, for the view was spectacular. Living up to the classic image that we have all seen, the wall meandered its way over the hills and up into the mountain peaks, in both directions. The structure itself is massive in scale, perhaps ten metres wide and at least as many tall, built with stone from the surrounding mountain. The surface, much of which runs at an angle to enable drainage, is usually laid with large flagstone. The upper parts of the walls are built with rough-hewn bricks, and steep gradients usually have steps Covering a staggering 5,000 km, the wall varies considerably along its length in style and materials. Numerous men were in charge of different sections, and they used whatever building materials were available locally. In the case of Mutianyu, built during the Ming Dynasty, granite was the stone of choice. Rather too soon, we had reached the most westerly point we were permitted to go, after a very steep climb up numerous steps. A guard, with a two-way radio, his remit being to ensure all tourists leave the wall by sundown, manned the open-topped tower that marked the end. The wall continued on up high, in a state of ruin, with loose stone and bush gradually taking over; and being in full view of the guard there seemed little hope of us continuing. Disguised as gorping tourists, we spent considerable time looking over the ramparts, trying to identify a way around the problem. By now, a significant number of tourists had come, taken their photos, and gone again, and still we lingered. I think he had guessed that we were plotting something. |
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| A chance meeting with a Chinese trekking guide gave us the opportunity to pick his brains for information. Firstly, he confirmed that the guard was indeed there to stop us going on. Secondly, he shot down our plans to make it to Huanghua; we believed it was a two day hike, he insisted it was more like eight. We simply did not have the proper equipment of food reserves for eight days up there, the highest part approaching two thousand metres and nighttime temperatures now taking an autumnal nosedive.
However, he did mention that we would come across a small farming settlement, viewed from on high; of no more than ten houses, but with a road connecting back to the nearest town. In theory, we could get onto that road, and catch a ride back to civilization. It was all we needed to hear, and so our resolve was strengthened. So what could we do about the guard? We tried asking, we tried bribery, to no avail. Believing he would soon be descending, we decided to sit it out. Of course, he now knew our game, so we shook hands and said goodbye. We felt his eyes on us all the way, as we descended the lengthy steps to the next watchtower. At just the right moment we hit a group of tourists coming the other way, as we moved through the tower; it was a perfect opportunity to disappear off the radar. Getting away from the wall altogether, we moved through the bush, to a vantage point where we could watch all traffic come and go; we would sit and wait for him to leave. |
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| One hour, two hours, three¡ they all passed by without any sighting. With sun-down getting closer, it was clear we could cover no ground this afternoon, but we were keen to find some firewood in the final minutes of light. We had watched the last of the tourists, mostly exceptionally noisy Chinese, come and go; it was time to make a decision. I would have to get a closer look at the watchtower, to see if he was there.
The dry, brittle bush made movement difficult as I stealthily moved lower, toward the wall. If we were caught now, it would all be over and we would be asked to leave. Of course, the entire wall is designed to offer a good vantage over marauding Mongols, so I had my work cut out approaching in this way, having to watch every angle in my approach. As far as I could possibly see, inexplicably the guard had gone. We had watched for him unceasingly, but gone he had, so we had to assume he had travelled down through the bush rather than along the wall. Dark was upon us as we proudly surveyed our stack of dead wood. At the same time, uneasiness at the fact that it is only just after six o¡¯clock, we had up to twelve hours to stay warm and keep our sanity. Our meagre food supplies would have to be eked out and the forthcoming period would certainly test our new friendship. Much debate ensued as we searched for an ideal spot to camp in the watchtower. The structure offered the best shelter from the wind and hungry creatures, the latter for us being an unknown quantity, but the cold stone would not offer much warmth. The interior, perhaps twenty metres square, is symmetrically divided up with nine wide supporting pillars. Along the four walls are three open windows on each, thus careful consideration had to be given in finding the optimal spot out of the wind. |
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| At length, we settled against the south wall, using a pillar each for wind shelter and building the fire between us, in the hope the breeze would carry away the smoke. This worked well, and for the next few hours we kept warm without having to put on our extra supply of clothes; we were saving them for later when it really would get cold. Dinner consisted of various rice based snacks, some sausage, sweetbread with Nutella and peanuts.
Our firewood burned much quicker than we had expected, and so regular jaunts by torchlight back into the bush were necessary to gather more. Indeed, it helped to pass the time and once we had passed midnight, we felt we were getting somewhere. Carefully putting on every item of clothing, being sure to tuck everything in, we laid on the stone in an attempt to get some shut-eye. |
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| Periodically, one or both of us would automatically wake as the fire died, woken by the sudden loss of warmth. We would often go to our lookout post on the roof to marvel at the moonlit mountains and absolute quiet. Apart from the barking dog, mentioned at the top of this page, the only other incident was a moving torch light spotted some way down in the valley. We watched nervously for some time, but it went out and never reappeared; we surmised it was probably a local checking animal traps or hunting for something; or the beginning of a fresh Mongolian invasion, for which we were woefully under prepared.
By four-thirty, I could sleep no more, and got busy clearing away. Hot ashes were cooled and scattered, a brush was made from twigs and the floor swept, leaving no trace of our camp. The first hour of the climb could be completed safely in the dark, and the moon did offer some light to help us on our way. The steep climb soon had me peeling off the layers of clothing, in spite of the morning chill. As the eastern horizon begun to glow orange, we had made a suitably high point and our first ruined watchtower. It was the perfect place to sit and contemplate a spectacular sunrise in beautiful silence; apart from a noisy parrot, evidently happy to have made it to another day, somewhere in the distance. It probably was not your average picture postcard type sunrise; the thick haze that seems permanent in this country made a hazy barrier above the peaks, though it did glow a beautiful orange, and the sun itself seemed tiny and lost amid the vast landscape. |
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| We exchanged all the usual expletives that two blokes together are likely to come up with, ate some more Nutella and hit the trail. The wall now remained largely the same along the way; broken loose rock on the surface, side walls collapsing or gone altogether, undergrowth gradually swallowing it into the bush. All the watchtowers were in ruins, but the basic structure remained unchanged, a testament to their strength and quality. It felt as if the imperial soldiers that would have lived in them only left last week. |
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| The ancient highway now began to climb ceaselessly higher. The most challenging section, perhaps five hundred metres long and climbing nearly as high, rose at a very acute angle. Unusually there were no steps, and the surface was loose and crumbling. Nevertheless, the reward was the view from the tower that topped it; breathless, a sudden attack of vertigo came over me as I stumbled to a window that over-looked a sheer drop of near one thousand metres. We knew all this, because Joseph happens to own a rather fantastic Swiss Army knife with an altimeter built in. What will they think of next? |
| We were having an awful lot of fun, so much so, that we were reluctant to discuss the fact that we didn¡¯t exactly know where we were going. The information we had gleaned from the guide was sketchy at best; there was no way any roads led up here, let alone a village, but he had not mentioned a way down. We had already agreed that if we had not found something (anything) by midday, we would have time to backtrack to Mutianyu before dark. At the point we had now reached, it was obvious there was no trail of any kind and it had not been walked in a while. The next section was steep downhill, and very precarious. The wall felt it could collapse at any moment, at one point the only way forward was to walk along the edge with that huge sheer drop glaring back at us.
We sat down, admired the view, and agreed to leave the wall. We could make out a settlement on the northern side, in the bottom of the valley. There was a rough trail through the bush, so we took a complete gamble and followed it. The steep descent left us in no doubt that we were now committed to our decision; there was no way I wanted to climb that lot again! If I had to marry someone¡¯s daughter, I was going to that village to find a ride. Leaving the wall behind had left me a little sad. Seeing it stretch into the horizon, knowing it goes on so much further, all its secrets buried forever and a different view at every turn; I vowed that one day I will return, properly equipped, and complete that eight-day walk. |
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| It was a pleasant, if uncertain, hike down to the village. We came across a patchwork of maize fields, unhurriedly being harvested by hand, and eventually the village itself. We happened upon an old woman, who instantly tried to sell us the pumpkins she was carrying. Sitting down for a breather, while uselessly trying to communicate with the old lady, a car pulled up. Reluctant to leave my meal of peanuts, I approached the driver to see about a lift. At length, with much gesticulation, we established, amazingly, he was the driver of bus No 916 back to Beijing! Is this possible? We wondered!
Like all bus drivers, he was earning some extra dosh by running some locals here; we agreed a price (more than we would have liked, but hey, not a lot of choice out here), and took off without even a chance to explore the village. He drove at breakneck speed, passed cars and horses without concern for oncoming traffic, and took corners almost on two wheels. All I could do was laugh, nervously, Joseph pointing out that the more I did so, the faster we went. Our driver was having a great time. Skidding to a halt, we handed over the Yuan, and enquired as to what time the next 916 would be passing, for he had made it clear he was not driving until later. He scribbled on my pad, 1130, exactly 30 seconds from now. And there it was! A mad dash ensued as we ran for the bus; and there ended our lucky adventure on the wall ? we slept soundly on the bus all the way back to Beijing. |
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| The authorities do not take too kindly to folk going it alone on the Great Wall, so you do have to be a little cunning. They have been known to slap fines on people, stating the prevention of damage as the reason. It should also be noted, they are keen to keep on directing the tourists to the restored sections, keeping the dollars flowing, and locals have already pinched more than their share of stone for their own projects. There is, however, some logic in what they say, and anyone thinking about such a trip is morally bound to leave no trace of their presence. Take nothing away from the wall, and be extremely careful around the more precarious parts of the ruins.
As far as I am concerned, I have seen just about all that I wanted to in Beijing; so it was time to get a move on to somewhere new. The next day, I jumped on a train for Pingyao. Located about 600km southwest, it is regarded as China¡¯s finest example of surviving Ming Dynasty architecture. It just happens to be on my route south, so I decided to stop there a few days. All that, and more, coming soon. |
| 1. Don¡¯t be offended when someone shouts ¡°Oi¡± to get your attention. It is not rude.
2. Exercise caution when walking over drain covers. They may be loose, broken, or not there at all. 3. Ignore the fact that, as a child, you were taught not to poke things into electrical sockets. In China, the myriad type of sockets means you have to try everything you have to find one that fits. Then, it rarely does fit well. At best, you get a satisfying flash, at worst, your equipment blows and the lights go out. 4. The locals are excellent sales men/women. Accept that no matter how strong your resolve, you will come back from an outing with things you did not want. 5. With reference to (4), despite the pained look on the salesman/women¡¯s face, your lengthy bartering to reduce by half his/her starting price, he/she is making a nice profit. So long as you are happy, they are only trying to make a living. 6. The technique for crossing roads is as follows: wait for a green light if one exists. Step out and walk at a steady pace, allowing traffic (that keeps coming regardless of any lights) to avoid you. Do not try to avoid them, for you may unwittingly step into the path of another vehicle trying to avoid someone else! 7. Leave your dignity at home. The toilets will make your eyes water, and locals will have a good look at what you have got down there, just out of interest. Cubicles are often not separated. Carry your own loo-roll, and do not flush it down; the sewer system is not designed to cope with it. 8. When boarding any transport, brute force is necessary. If you linger, you will not get on. The concept of standing in line is not in use. 9. Be as nosey as you dare. It is not considered rude, and you will see far more. 10. As always, learn some basic language; it will be appreciated and give the locals plenty of laughs. |
| Timo's Top Ten Tips for China |
| Construction of the wall was begun over two thousand years ago, during the Qin Dynasty (221-207 BC). It aimed to join up individual walls built by individual kingdoms, to keep out the maurading nomads from the north. At this time, they were mainly constructed with rammed earth. During the MIng dynasty, an effort was made to form the wall into one continuous stretch. It was during this time that they were faced with brick and stone, and the watchtowers were built, taking more than one hundred years of hard labour. Though as a defence the wall was never particularly successful, it did serve well as a highway, to transport supplies and soldiers across the mountains. Smoke signals were also used from one watchtower to another, to send important messages. The finished wall stretched 5000km from the Yellow Sea in the east, to the Gobi desert in the west. Should you ever find yourself in outer space, you may be disappointed to find it can not be seen from up there, it is a myth that was proudly taught to generations of Chinese kids. This fact now accepted, it has finally been removed from school books. It does not surprise me, in the thick haze from the wall, I often could not even see the next watchtower! |
| Where it all began... |
| THERE ARE NOT MANY IMAGES ON THIS JOURNAL FOR A REASON! I HAVE PUT TOGETHER MY BEST SHOTS ON WANDER YEARS EXTRA! TAKE A LOOK! |
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