The Beijing Hiker's company had a fairly solid plan. I had to get a taxi from my hostel to a place in the far north of Beijing, roughly a 45 minute drive. It was 6:30 by the time I left the hostel and was to be there before 8. It would have also helped if the new band of international travelers had gotten a good night's sleep. But no, we had decided that drinking far too much beer and a special Chinese vodka-like substance called... Well, all I know is it's pronounced like "Bye Joe". So it's easier for me.
The International Committee of Hooliganism is as follows: Aviv from Israel, a gargantuan house of a man with a heavy, belly-jiggling laugh. We have Marcos, from Argentina, whom has a radiant personality that he's used to befriend people from all over the world, including Dave Grohl, America's most famous rocker. There's Dennise, from Guatemala, always jovial, always laughing, and she's our secret weapon. 4 years in Taiwan learning Chinese have created one of the most interesting individuals of the squad. Caroline, from France but living in Canada, unfortunately we only had one day with her. David, the gentleman from Northern Ireland who is always diplomatic, friendly, and funny. Next to him is Katherine, the Brit with equal manners, a hunger for adventure, and a kindness toward all walks of life she meets. We also have an Anglican rivalry... But moreso we just to like to stereotype the all-accomodating Brit and the loud, obnoxious and omnipotent American. We have Gabriel, the quiet Italian, always friendly and kind with his eyes but he's more of a listener. There's Dan, the man from Ireland, whom I was afraid would break out into a brawl with the man from Northern Ireland but that was not the relationship at all. Dan was 29 or so with a wife and daughter at home but he could hang with all of us... meaning... Well, I don't know, he could drink.
That's the nucleus of our World Congress meeting in the 2018 Beijing Summit. Politics, world relations, beer laws, infrastructure. Everyone's country was being compared and contrasted... It was incredible. Ironically, everyone was doing the Great Wall really early but I was the only one that booked with a different group. Somehow, despite a heavy night of drinking, we all made it to the Wall.
Walking down the street from the hostel, head throbbing, and a thick haze enveloping my brain, I planned how to get the taxi: Go to the corner and wait for a taxi to come down the busy street and then show him my phone, which had the address in Chinese. As I walk, I hear for the 5th or 6th time since I've been at the hostel, a voice call out in perfect English, "Hello!" And look to see a man gesturing with his hands toward his tailor shop. I know on the street when I hear this, it is just a sales pitch but the familiarity of the voice and the lack of Chinese accent always makes me turn my head, whether I want to or not.
Down the street, I walked up to the busiest street from our alleyway, and a man is parked along the side of the road, arms folded. He looks at me as I approach the light and sits up, "Taxi!" He yells. "Boo Yow", I reply quickly meaning "I don't want." I had read about these vehicles known as "Black Cabs". They're not marked taxis and the drivers have no registration under the government. A 30 yuan taxi ride will instead cost you upwards of 200. I cross the street to get away from him and hold my arm out as I see a marked taxi approaching. He pulls up and I hold my phone out, revealing the address in China. I get in.
This wonderful first experience with the Chinese taxi's would end up sort of like an anomalie. For the next three or four times I would take a taxi, the driver would drop us at the wrong location or get lost. However, this was not one of them. The ride was a leisurely and quiet trip through the major arteries of Beijing, the silence broken by the driver putting the window down every 5 minutes to dramatically try to suck the phlemn from somewhere deep down in his lungs. The Chinese love to spit but most of all, they like to see who can make the loudest noises before they eject the specimen. I really like this culture.
Beijing whizzed by my the taxi window, people already hours into their work days. If New York doesn't sleep, then Beijing is its chronic insomniac cousin. At 2AM while we were outside smoking cigarettes, the street of our hostel was already sleepily bustling with workers preparing their restaurants to open 5 hours later. The Chinese work. And they work hard. On display was the maze of high rise buildings in constant construction to house the exploding population. China has something of 15 of the most populated cities in the world. The taxi driver dropped me off at the Starbucks where I would wait for the rest of the Great Wall Crew, 45 minutes early, an unheard of achievement for me. It should also be noted I thought we had to be there at 7:30... so I was 15 minutes early in my head.
In the lobby, I met our two Chinese guides, Katie and Jennie. Katie wore a Los Angeles Dodgers cap with a smile fixated upon her beaming face. Jennie would become my favorite on the tour, the guide in the rear making sure the last person doesn't fall too far behind... Aka the guy from America who continuously stopped to smell the wild air, meditate and overall, apparently attempt to foil any hope of being on time. Despite this, I was always keen to stay close to the"hikers" in front of me that had probably never left Beijing before in their life.
In the lobby of the Starbucks, I paid entirely too much for a coffee and sandwich, 66 yuan, which roughly translates to around $9. However, when you find that most meals with a drink can be purchased for 15 yuan... You get a little thrifty. An American couple from Chicago greeted me, well, I said hi to the woman named Jakey. Originally from Scotland, she was married to Hank, a red faced, warm man who gave me advice for what to see in China. They both concurred that a place called Pingyao, was the quintessential Chinese experience. An ancient village largely unchanged since the Ming Dynasty, Frozen in a 14th century rabbit hole. It has since been added to my itinerary. And then since taken off because of the truckload of negative experiences I've heard from other foreigners.
After continuing to read my "Chinese Survival Guide", eventually it was time to board our bus for a two hour trek up to a supposedly quiet and non-touristy location know as the "Stones River Loop". The bus ride was quiet, I tried writing a little bit as I am now on a train to Xian. A man who sat behind me provoked my interest because of the small, little dog he had brought with him. An utterly terrified little creature that sat trusting, and obediently next to his owner for the full two hours. His eyes gave away his panic but he never barked or did anything to provoke the owner. Just stayed sitting upright, occasionally thrown forward by the stop and go nature of Chinese traffic but always caught by his owner. For the whole two and a half hours to the site and back, despite being on a major highway of four lanes, we never got above 45mph, constantly in flux.
Eventually we passed what must have been the major tourist spot for the wall for there was a bustle of people, vehicles and trash. From the bus, we got our first glimpse of the rebuilt portions of the wall, twisting and winding over the rugged mountain tops, people swarming on the walkways. Hopefully, where we were going it would be more quiet. It would be. Twisting off the major highway onto an old, dirt road, we jumbled over pot holes passed construction workers and locals that watched curiously as we passed. However, in seemingly the middle of nowhere, we would go under a giant arch with pictures of the Great Wall and colorful designs hinting that maybe this place wasn't so secret. We would eventually stop at the end of a dirt trail and begin our ascent. We loaded up on water bottles, bananas and snacks provided by the company and got to moving. I caught myself speed walking ahead of people, nervous to make sure I kept pace and convincing myself of my own personal fitness. I can still do this type of stuff, right? I'm sure the older members of the group were thinking the same thing.
On the ascent, I met Tara, a Colorado transplant that had moved to Beijing to work for a year, teaching English at an international school. She was on month three and still getting used to living in a city of 20 something million souls. She taught me little Chinese phrases and we talked about our expectations of Beijing before we had arrived.
Firstly, I am in complete awe and astonishment of Beijing and China as a whole. The amount of development that has happened here the last 20-30 years is unparralelled in human history. The subway system that was easier, cleaner, and more efficient than the NYC metro had been built no more than 10 years ago. Their train network of bullet trains was built in no more than 5 years, an effort that took America almost 50. The streets are wide, trash trucks come every 10 minutes to streets to keep the sidewalks clean. They have attacked their pollution problem by switching many vehicles to electric. Their is a nationalistic pride to the country that comes with its pros and cons. Despite all of this, there is a gigantic wage gap where the average annual salary is $6,000. But I haven't seen it. I'm in the city. And the city life is not the countryside. It's a confusing, corrupt place but on the surface, it looks like its on top of the world. But dig a bit beneath the surface, and there's dirt.
And speaking of dirt, we were kicking up a lot of it. As the elevation became steeper, I had another conversation with Jakey about her children. Jakey's one son had gone to college in Hong Kong studying Chinese. Consequentially, when they came to visit their son, they got the China bug and have been back numerous times. As the going got steeper, I went up ahead aways. As we finally got out from the thickly wooded mountain side, we got to a clearing that revealed much of the path we had traversed. And then ahead of us stretching off in the Misty distance, was one of the many watchtowers of the wall, perched another maybe 2,000 ft up. It was beautiful everywhere.
Here was The Great Wall, snaking its way up the mountainside and off into the distance for who knows how far. One of the great wonders of the world. Fortifications began around the 7th century BC to protect against warring tribes from the Eurasian Steppe. I guess it didn't really work very well because the Huns around the 5th century and Genghis Khan in the 13th century still had their way with China. But there is hundreds of years of success in between I suppose. The first Emperor of China, Qin Shi Huang, who built the Terracotta Army also built a large portion of the wall. For such a short reign (220-206 BC) he sure got a lot done. But the majority of the wall was built by the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644). Contrary to popular belief, there are numerous walls, not just one long one. There's over 13,000 miles of the wall with the Ming responsible for 5,500 of it, which historically makes sense. The Mongols came down and conquered China just before the Ming took control. Then, in 1644, the Manchu people, in an area that sits right next to Mongolia, conquered China, breaking through the wall.
It wasn't until we got halfway to the watchtower that I really felt the power of the wall. I began to lag behind the group, wanting the wall to myself, wanting quiet solitude. And as the group began to dissipate around the bend and the voices disappeared into the whistle of the wind, I sat down with the wall. I touched the old mud bricks, looking down at the valley below picturing a possible attack. I felt one of the bricks loosen a bit. Oh my God, if that falls off, I am responsible for desecrating one of the oldest and most impressive feats of architecture in the world. I sat down and meditated.
It eventually dawned on me that the people I thought were behind me, were not behind me. Thinking I had time to myself and the wall, I had waited for the last group to come up. They never showed. Apparently, the group had chosen to take the shortcut with the other guide, Katie, because it was too difficult. So suddenly, I was rushing to catch the group at the watchtower up in the distance.
"Was I late? Did I hold you guys up?" I asked the other guide, Jennie, pointing to my wrist indicating time. She smiled back at me and said, "Ah puppy time." Kind of flabbergasted, I gave a concentrated look, nodded then smiled and walked away. I guess I wasn't that late? I have no idea.
The break on top of the watchtower was short, no thanks in large part to me deciding to have my own Buddhist retreat in the back of the pack. However, I got a little food in me and talked to a named Tom from Canada donning a Toronto Blue Jays hat. And we talked heavily of baseball on top of the Great Wall of China... Probably my favorite sentence.
Now, it was time for the descent... The wall had almost totally crumbled on this side and we were all slipping and sliding as we surfed our way down. There were two hikes available for this day. One was the Level 3+, which I was on and the other was a Level 5. Everyone I talked to on the wall had the same thought process I did when making the selection. The collective conscience said something like, "Level 5? Pssshh, that ain't no thang. You're tough as nails. Let's do it." And then upon further search of the soul, "Well, you could totally do it no problem. Yeah. Easy. No doubt. But hey, we wanna have fun, right? Yeah. Better just do the 3+." And now seeing everyone sliding down the side of the wall, I think we were all happy with our second thoughts.
Further down the wall, we took a right into the woods. Tara and I commented how in the woods, you almost feel like you could be anywhere back at home, just down the street, in the Pine Barrens or in Colorado. Unless you're a biologist or something, at which point I bet you can definitely tell the difference.
As we crept out of the shrubs, the two girls behind me screamed and clutched their mouths. Hanging from a bush just where I had been, was a snake, licking its lips as if two Chinese girls were the perfect afternoon snack. He was no larger than a garden snake but don't underestimate his hunger! We quietly traversed around him, stepping ever so slightly as not provoke him. We barely survived. He was a killer.
We slowly started moving further and further down into the valley. Slowly being the key word because I fell into the back of the pack again, taking pictures, breathing, and just trying to stay present. The last guide, Jennie, watched me warily. Another lady, named Julia, walked with me. Julia was from Germany, working for BMW. They needed a representative to do business in China for a year... And she was the girl. Her Chinese was really good and she taught me some words that I butchered in my American accent.
Halfway down the valley, we heard a little help come from behind us. Jennie had slipped and seemed to be grasping her ankle. Oh shit, so this does happen out here. But... You're the guide. "You okay?' I said walking up to her. She just grimaced, running her ankle and struggling to out weight on it. I looked at Julia. "Well, I can probably take your backpack..." She said nonchalantly. I was thinking it too. And then with added confidence, "I mean, she's a small Chinese woman. I think your backpack weighs more than her." I puffed out my chest and gave my best manly look. All of this would be unnecessary, for Jennie resumed walking with a limp that gradually went away.
The hike took us past a village where we were told we would be having lunch with some local cuisine. We hiked down by the village... Then started going up again. Julia was fairly vehement that we were going the wrong way. The food was over there. I was actually feeling pretty good. Like Level 5 pretty good. And I was really enjoying myself, so when we kept going for another mile or so, it was all good.
Eventually, we found ourselves stumbling into a small village for the food. On the radio, we heard that we were about 25 minutes late. Julia heard it in Chinese and asked if we were actually that late. To which Jennie grinned and said, "Yes... Slow." Sorry team. When we finally meandered our way into the village, you could tell it had been swallowed by the tourist agenda. The entire village had a brand new "wall" around it that mimicked the design of the Great Wall. The townspeople looked to be doing pretty well with the cash flow that us tourists brought in.
We found ourselves in one of the local's actual houses where several tables of food we're prepared... And a lot of beer. Nobody was driving. Hell, we deserve it. I sat down at a table with Julia, Jennie, Katie, Jakey and her husband Hank. Hank was trying to explain something in English to one of the Chinese guides and did that thing where apparently, if you raise the volume of your voice loud enough, the words become clearer.
"YES CHINA... VERY BEAUTIFUL. AMERICA." he said pointing at himself.
"Ah yes, America. I've been, it is a nice place," the guide replied in flawless English. Hank sheepishly started picking around at his plate.
We ate like Kings. We drank a normal amount, nothing heavy. But it was enough to out me into a coma on the bus ride after a long day of hiking. Eventually, we made it back to the subway station where I took a metro for home. Back at the hostel... The evening had only just begun.
The evening (slash morning) is an entire story in an of itself. And I don't think I have the patience or time to write the full length of it in all of its drama. But the whole gang decided we wanted to go to the night market to try all the crazy foods; fried scorpion, pan fried grub larvae, spiders, ect. When we finally arrived after an hour walk, it was closing. Marcos, nearly in tears, would later say, "I felt like I wanted to kill myself. All I wanted was that scorpion," in his Argentinian accent. Indeed, he would bring up the need to have scorpion multiple times. Eventually, it would be done. But now now.
We found another restaurant open down the street. 20 minutes later, wrong. Also closed. All of us nearly starving, we saw across the street, a small "pancake" vendor. All 12 of us got one and they were absolutely delicious. By now, we had added a German named Von with a lovely sense of humor, Ting from Taiwan who helped try to interpret a lot of drunk Chinese, and Jen from the Netherlands. The woman somehow served the pancakes up piping hot in a matter of minutes. Her husband, mumbling in Chinese behind her pulled out seats for our group becoming extremely worried when he was a seat, now two seats short. He eventually went inside his own home, bringing out two chairs for the people from around the world. He also brought out a lot of beer.
For the next two hours, our gracious Chinese host entertained, danced, and spoke in Chinese with Ting and Dennise from Guatemala. We had our circle and would point someone out and say the country where they're from and then the host would respond. For Aviv from Israel, our host made the mark of the cross and then launched into a mumbling frenzy about how Aviv should exercise more. For Dan from Ireland, he closed one eye and made the sound of a Pirate... We don't know why but it was funny. And for me, he looked at me rather sternly and said, "Mao Zhedong." It was kind of a break from the humor and I wasn't sure how to respond. He looked somewhat sad. It occurred to me later with his age, what he may have experienced in China, mainly the Cultural Revolution.
Two hours of this go on and we are having the time of our lives. Marcos, who has been unusually quiet, is just gazing. I remark about how quiet he's been and he just says slowly, "Man, I am so happy right now. Like... This is just great. Look at all of us." And my heart almost just melted right on the spot. Eventually, we could tell our host was rather intoxicated and finally let him go to sleep. We paid him for the beer and moved on to the next stop...
The night never slowed down. We found an Irish Bar... In China with an Indian restaurant inside...And the place apparently never closes.
Long story short, I ended up rapping for everyone. A lot of alcohol was consumed. Too much. We all eventually made it home after a taxi driver dropped us off in the middle of nowhere. Dennise missed her train the next morning to Shanghai. And Dan...
We lost Dan. We left in two taxis... My group of four got dropped off in a random section of Beijing, luckily not far from our hostel. And the other group went right to the hostel, except Dan. He opted to stay out with a Scottish fellow he had just met and go to the club. The next morning, as I shuffled back to the hostel at 1pm after some food, and helping Dennise sort out another train ticket, there sat Dan in the lobby. He was in a daze.
"Hey, how was your night?" I asked smiling.
"Man, I'm still trying to figure out what happened. I just woke up twenty minutes ago on the side of the street..."
Whaaatt. First off, he was okay. Nothing super awful happened, no bodily injury, no murder. He was shaken up but okay. His phone was gone, and some money was missing. We would later find out that at the club, a group of black guys could be seen on CCTV footage putting something in Dan's drink. Whatever it was knocked him and the Scottish guy out. They both had the same story. He used my phone to call his wife and tell her everything was okay. And everything was. It was scary. Yeah. But nobody was hurt. Sometimes you just gotta know when to call it a night.
And that's the story of Beijing with some of the most incredible people I've ever met. Thanks for reading.
Aviv in front of the hostel... At sunrise.
