My sister and her fiance Steve arrived in Beijing on a Thursday afternoon and they hit the ground running. Before the sun had fully set, they had checked into their hotel, eaten a traditional hot pot meal and were in attendance at my last and final performance in Beijing. That night was a late but great one, and it was wonderful to have them there.
Six o’clock the next morning rolled around far too quickly.
We were scheduled to depart for Simatai Friday morning, the most beautiful tourist section of the Great Wall. A car was waiting for us just outside the hotel lobby, thanks to my wonderful friend Stuart who works for a travel company (Intrepid Travel) and who has excellent connections with things like this. He set it up for us and I was thrilled to not have to navigate public transportation with my family after such a late night. I was already bleary-eyed and poised to nap on the two and a half hour trip out of town.
When sleepy, must sleep. That’s my body’s motto.
The driver was very nice and we smoothly exited the city in nearly absentee traffic and quickly found ourselves in the morning mist of the outlying Beijing area. I slipped back to sleep in the front seat while my sister and Steve chatted about the scenery and the different energy of China compared to Canada. I tried to stay awake to act as the translator and tour guide, but it was for naught.
I woke up when we turned the final corner towards Simatai. Off of the highway, this last twenty minutes took us through several small and quaint countryside villages where we could see small-scale farming and country life up close, sometimes just a few feet from the windows of the car.
We all exclaimed at the brilliant greens and natural beauty that is in such contrast with the grey cement of Beijing. I reminded them that there is a lot of green hidden between buildings in the city, but it takes awhile to find it and celebrate it. I hoped I would get a chance to take them to some beautiful places in the city as well. We only had a few days together, and the density of the “intended” schedule was already apparent.
This tourist site is the section of The Great Wall that is farthest away from Beijing. Its beauty took my breath away. The misty mountains, the water below as you climb the several hundred feet up to the wall, the parts of the wall not fully renovated and so still breathing some of the crumbling history into the soles of our shoes – all of it was incredible! Even though this wasn’t the wild wall, it was part of the story. I am continually inspired by this snaking stone wonder that covers this part of China. I don’t think I’d ever get tired of laying my eyes upon it as it weaves its way along the skyline.
All told, seeing this part of the wall completed the cycle between the first section of the wall that I saw (Mutianyu, which was extremely renovated and almost pristine in its square edges) against the extreme rustic beauty of the wild wall that I saw when I went hiking in early June. Here was the middle ground between the two and it felt like the missing link in the chain of historical events.
We climbed the few kilometres up taking many rests in the heavy humidity. At one point, we came upon a group of women lounging along the wall’s edge. They all had sacs and were dressed in the same deep navy blue pants and shirts. I thought they may be workers, but it turned out that they were all vendors and were all selling the same items.
Three of these women greeted us and began to walk with us. When they realized I spoke Mandarin, they got even more excited and the conversation took off. Eventually, I realized that they were planning to accompany us (as though official guides) and I stopped walking. So too did my sister and Steve and I rounded off the conversation. I then gently requested that we be left alone to walk separately. I thanked them for their kindness but explained that we wanted to have some space just the three of us. They responded in kind and then trailed us by about fifty feet as we climbed the wall, always keeping us in view.
Finally, closer to the top, they inched nearer again and began to offer some interesting historical information about what we were seeing. I’m a sucker for history and so I didn’t discourage it and I listened and translated for my sister and Steve who were also interested in what they were saying. Eventually, they pulled out their tour books and asked us to once again consider buying their wares.
My sister wanted a book. They started the price at 180 kuai. I laughed outright at such an inflated price and told my sister to not pay more than 20 or 25 kuai. She eventually paid 50, which we learned was the starting price for the same books down at the base of the mountain where the rest of the vendors were. Oh well, I suppose my instincts were correct in terms of price, but my sister felt their ascent, historical information and overall persistence was worth the extra cash. She has a heart, after all.
We didn’t go right to the very highest point, but instead took the trail towards the cable cars. They wanted to take the easy route down and I relented and agreed. I wasn’t tired but it was threatening rain and I figured being in a covered cable car in the rain was better than getting wet while making our descent. In the end, the cable car ride was about ten or fifteen minutes of peace. I rode alone and they rode together and I took the time to just watch the scenery slowly roll out beneath me – such a carefully and meticulously landscaped valley – and the wall fade into the mist of the mountains behind me. I shut off my brain and let the colours soothe.
It was all very storybook-like. It was lovely.
Our driver was waiting for us at the bottom. We piled in and ate the picnic lunch I had brought while we made our way back to the city. Due to the midday traffic, the trip back was much longer than the trip there, but it was still interesting. The driver and I had a great chat about historical sites in and around Beijing and I fared relatively well in Chinese throughout it all. He was complimentary and taught me some interesting new words.
When we got back to the hotel, I was ready for a nap but happy to have seen the Great Wall of China one last time before I had to go home.
I fell asleep in my hotel room conscious of my great fortune and privilege in being in Beijing for so long. I have seen the Great Wall three times now! Some people – most people – never get to see it even once.
Life is great.