Forget what you’ve heard about the Great Wall of China: It’s not a single wall, not built by a single evil emperor, and not visible from outer space. But, dispel the myths, and you’re still faced with an object of mythic proportions which limbs the extent of human ingenuity. It must be seen to be believed. Luckily, I had the chance to do just that with my friend Julie when she visited me earlier this year.
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Recently, my pal, skydiver, mountain climber and all around adventure gal Julie Bothamley took a detour her after a business trip to Japan to visit Beijing. She took a suite at the Regent and invited me to come and visit with her for a few days.
It’s always so much fun to watch someone new come to grips with the sheer immensity of this country. After a few days of touring its enormous parks, temples and heritage sites, Julie, a world traveler, concluded, “Everything in China is just on a whole other scale.”
Too true. Take the Forbidden City. It’s simply mammoth. I thought I’d seen every inch of the place on my first visit, but when I returned with Julie, we discovered entirely new galleries that I had somehow missed on my first six hour visit!
New discoveries on every visit
The infinite number of tiny details – floral paintings, engravings and tiles – put the enormity of the palace in perspective.
After a day of wandering about saying, “Oh, my God, there’s more?” we were footsore and punchdrunk. And when we got back to the hotel lobby we managed to get authentically drunk as well.
The Temple of Heaven was equally gargantuan.
And the grounds, which seem to ramble on for miles and miles, actually follow very specific symbolic and “mystic” orientation astrological orientation lines. The deep blue tiles sword like crenellations gave Temple of Heaven an otherworldly feel. But the most beautiful sight was these elderly couples dancing to traditional music under showers of spring blossoms.
We also toured a little holiday get-away spot for royals known as the “Summer Palace.” The Qing dynasty playground is centered around a lake so large it is difficult to see the far shore from one end. Boats ferry tourists from one royal resting spot to another. And a faux ancient water town offered a scenic spot to shop.
Did you know Julie is a pearl expert? Although commodities trading is her bread and butter (not that she actually trades butter or bread futures you understand) she first studied geology in college. Apparently pearls fall under that purview, so she’s one fun person to accompany shopping at the Pearl Market. Julie also bargains like a Mexican, and I mean that with the deepest respect for a culture that knows how to haggle as efficiently as the Chinese. In fact, she actually grew up in Mexico so the aggressive Chinese saleswomen didn’t stand a chance of resisting her bargaining skills.
We both agreed, though, that the knockout punch for the entire trip was our Great Wall sojourn. As I intimated at the start, the wall was built in stages, the first section begun by a Ming emperor to keep northern tribes from sweeping down and attacking his Han people. Over time other emperors restored and added to the original structure. The wall is being refurbished for tourists in stages, too. We chose to go to a little restored and less frequented section of the wall at Jinshanling that guidebooks call a photographer’s dream. You can judge from my video, above, if that’s true.
Every part of the wall was built on a crest of adjoining mountains so that guards in watch towers could – you know, watch – for enemies and then light signal fires if anyone approached. Naturally this meant that we had to climb a mountain just to begin trek.
These same guards would then firmly dissuade would-be marauders by shooting them with arrows from narrow tower slits, decapitating them with swords as they tried to scramble up the stone face, or generally slaying them by rolling huge heavy rocks onto their heads and limbs. Logically, then, the wall doesn’t present hikers with so much a pleasant winding path as an lethal obstacle course.
Really. I mean lethal. Our guide was kind enough to show us a photo of a tourist who had recently plunged to his death off the very area of wall we were traveling. It was an odd sort of publicity. When one is shimmying down slopes with no handholds, no guardrails and stumbling over bricks knocked loose during Japanese bombing of the place, maybe it’s not the best time for a casualty show-and tell, but hey. There we have it. Welcome to China.
For most of the day we scurried up steps with risers as tall as a foot and a half and footholds as narrow as 4 inches. Huffing up vertical stairways a block long, then plunging down equally steep slopes with no steps at all, we soldiered on for about a half a day visiting 21 towers.
I’m embarrassed to say that I was only the second oldest person in the group, but I was the slowest. I knew my pace would prevent me from having sore legs later, as some of the others said they did.
I kept stopping to take pictures. I broke the rules by talking to the local farm women who trudged after us badgering us to buy the worthless junk they had hauled up the slopes in sacks. At first I found their ‘begging” annoying, but then I started to think maybe they really were the story here. What is life like for the people who cling to the wall for their living? Many of these villagers made this climb at least once a day. Others hauled sodas and fans and cigarettes and odd items like this
up the mountain to set up semi-permanent little shops in the ruins of various towers.
They were so poor and worked so hard. At one point I finished drinking the water I had brought, and one lady asked me for the empty bottle. Moments later she had filled it with water from her canteen and was trying to sell it to someone else. Maybe this wasn’t exactly honest, but you do what you have to do to survive. I gave in and bought a fan in exchange for a photo.
Anyway, it was a terrific trip. Thanks for all your generosity and friendship Julie!
Walking around one of our local parks, I wandered into a large cement bunker. This was apparently an abandoned mine shaft or perhaps an air raid shelter? I will never know. An attendant charged me 10 rmb to enter. I had no idea where the tunnel lead, so of course I ducked right in.
Down the dark and dank corridor rooms branched off to the right and left. These rooms were motion sensor controlled to burst into light and animatronic weirdness as I passed.
I think the characters were representations of Buddhist religious events, but I was far to dazzled and creeped out by the craftsmanship to linger to investigate further.
And the grounds, which seem to ramble on for miles and miles, actually follow very specific symbolic and “mystic” orientation astrological orientation lines. The deep blue tiles sword like crenellations gave Temple of Heaven an otherworldly feel. But the most beautiful sight was these elderly couples dancing to traditional music under showers of spring blossoms.
