Beijing
CHINA
I Feel Lucky
By LYNDI
Sunday, April 24, 2016
Google Flights is a dangerous thing. Some genius invented a tool where you enter the city you live in and click a button that says “I feel lucky” and it picks some bargain destination for you to dream about.
January 2016. I’m trying to find a good flight for my colleague and curiosity strikes. I click the button and “Portland to Beijing – $400” shows up. That was all I needed to hear.
Flash forward three months and my partners in crime – husband Aaron and brother Cal – are on a long-haul flight to Beijing. Granted, our visas cost about half as much as our flights to China, but that’s neither here nor there.
Ever since my first backpacking trip (to Southeast Asia, where else?) over a decade ago, China has enchanted me. I dreamed of quiet cobblestoned alleys lit by red lanterns, enjoying a cup of tea on a tiny stool surrounded by men carrying fish from the market. And I’m pretty sure in this vision they are wearing kimonos – so my Hollywood vision is clearly a bit contorted. But it is impossible to arrive to any city in China and not have these dreams absolutely dashed.
Our flight descended through a cloud of yellow, greasy smog and landed at Beijing International Airport. The airport must be one of the nicest I’ve ever seen – everything in it was state of the art, with carefully designed exteriors and relatively efficient customs lines – but from there the city begins to crush you.
I went to buy three waters at a little shop immediately upon arrival, only to have some 16 year old shopkeeper swindle me with my very first purchase. Okay, it likely wasn’t a “swindle” so much as an “I don’t understand the currency yet, here just take this bill and get me out of here”.
We then got in line for a taxi (with pre-printed hostel address in Chinese) where we found that no one wanted to take us. The taxi system is well organized – and a little bit like a ride at Disneyland. Little cars pull up all at once, passengers follow the line to their assigned car, and you are off! Except our cab driver saw three “laowais” and immediately tried to move lanes. No one else was giving him an inch, so he motioned for us to wait for the next line of taxis to pull up and tried to get some Chinese passengers in. This came as quite a surprise, considering most taxi drivers fall over themselves to get the foreigners they can overcharge or at least take on a scenic route, but he wanted nothing to do with us. Well, too bad. I’ll hand it to the Chinese – they have order down to a science. And despite his attempts, he could not create disorder and ended up having to take us.
Our hostel was close to 3rd Ring Road near Tianamen Square – maybe 20kms away from the airport – and we sat in the taxi for over an hour as traffic clogged every lane, shoulder and exit as far as the eye could see. But even the oppressive congestion was orderly. I don’t think I heard a single honk of the horn – every driver knew how he fit or cut into different lanes, and even drivers hurling loogies out the window aimed carefully to avoid wheels of passing cars.
We arrived at a small hutong – or narrow alley – and walked to our hostel 365Inn. After booking a tour to the Great Wall for the following day and buying our train tickets from Kunming (at the cinema, naturally) we walked around the city for awhile before nearly passing out face first in our stirfry from some local shop. This was probably the most jet lagged I’d ever been – it actually pained me to keep my eyes open. So we retired early and were all set to rise for our Great Wall Tour with Leo Hostel the next day.
Leo’s tour took us to a section of the wall 60 kms from the city (45ish miles) known as Badaling. Initially I was nervous because Badaling is where the giant tour buses take people, but our driver went one exit past the tourist mall and gift shops and pulled into a section of Badaling that was completely empty – save for a stall selling warm beer.
Our tour guide Steven gave us a brief introduction to the Wall and its history – as many know, different sections were built over a period of thousands of years, finally unifying under the Ming dynasty that ended in the 1600s. Steven called it the “Bloody Wall”, because men during those years were basically doomed to die: you could either choose to fight the Mongols (and die) or go to work constructing the wall under punishing conditions (and die). So not only was the Wall responsible for the death of millions of Chinese men, but it was also completely ineffective. Granted, the watch towers prevented many small scale raids, but was more or less useless for a large scale invasion.
But what remains is truly a sight to behold. The scale of the Wall is inconceivable, not only stretching more than 5,000 miles, but with stones intricately laid and hugging peaks of mountains as far as the eye could see.
We were given a few hours to walk around the wall and visit several watch towers, the stunning achievement of mankind mired only by the stunning consequence of mankind. Though our hike rewarded us with a personal connection to China’s storied history, our views were limited to a few hundred meters as the smog laid thick in the valleys and prevented us from seeing the remarkable scenery and reach of the wall.
After a mediocre buffet lunch, a three hour busride back to Beijing (yes – you read that right. 3 hours to go 60kms), and some great stories from Steven (including “You cannot be American! You have no tattoos!” As an American I have been accused of many things – virgin skin being a first), we arrived back at 365Inn and rounded out the night with many beers at the hostel bar with some new Aussie friends.
I found Beijing to be a city for everyone and for no one – it is vast and chaotic, but also serene (in places) and historic. For many Chinese it is a land of opportunity but with suppressive oversight. Beijing was not what I expected, but it intrigued me and surprised me.
But we didn’t fly halfway around the world to sit in traffic and choke on smog – stunning scenery and incomparable hiking lured us to the continent. So after 2 days in Beijing, we returned to the airport (by subway – we swore off taxis for the rest of the trip) and flew to Yunnan province. Home of historic villages, storied hiking and diverse cultural roots.
