China Trip 2014: The Great Wall at Simatai and the Eeriness of Faketown

Amongst the stereotypical and easily-brought-to-mind images of China, few are as forthcoming as The Great Wall. This testament to defense and construction is mistakenly believed to be the only man-made structure viewable from space and is the primary reason that China is not currently a province of Mongolia (note: I'm not a historian, so that last statement might be complete malarky). If you are planning your first-ever trip to China does not include some time to see the Great Wall, I am completely baffled.

There are numerous locations to see this masterpiece of masonry. Most infamous is Badaling, which by dint of its proximity to Beijing is frequented by hundreds, if not thousands, of tourists a day. It's a great place to go if you want an easy commute and photos with scores of strangers in the background (while being hassled to buy innumerable trinkets and tourist crap). We settled instead on Simatai, based both on the Lonely Planet I'd bought, and the advice of a colleague whose wife is Chinese and who has consequently travelled to China many times. Simatai is the starting point (or ending point if you fancy) of a 7km hike along the wall (one of the longer treks you can make uninterrupted) ending at Jinshanling. In addition, it is also one of the "rougher" sections of the wall-more prone to steep inclines and crumbling portions that evoke the true sense of the Wall more than the rebuilt, clean-and-idealised portions seen elsewhere. In addition, the scenery is rather breathtaking-dry yet verdant mountains abound and the Wall snakes up and down amongst them, wending its way through the peaks and valleys into the murky, hazy distance.

We had been warned that this was likely to be a rather strenuous trek, so were well kitted out with water, hiking boots and a packed lunch. We had hired a driver for the day who would kindly wait for us while we hiked and drive us home. When we asked about doing the Simatai-to-Jinshanling trek, we were told that the road was down between the two, so we had to choose. I have to admit, this didn't make much sense-surely if the main road was down, you coud just route around it? The two points were only 7km of hiking apart: undoubtedly, a car could get to the end faster, even if it had to take a different and more roundabout route, right? Apparently not, so we selected Simatai as our go-to, and set off.

It turns out, there was a slight mis-translation, which we would discover only when we made it onto the Wall itself, after a hike through Fake-Town (I'll get to that shortly), and a scenic cable-car up the hill. It wasn't that the road between the two points was down, it's that the path along the Great Wall was. Indeed, there was a large section of the Wall which was effectively completely collapsed and awaiting repair and was wholly intraversible in the meantime. This at least made more sense. Without being able to cross the section of river spanned by the collapsed portion, there was simply no way to get to Jinshanling. Unfortunately, this meant we were confined to a section of Wall about 1.25km long, or possibly even shorter.

Fortunately, it was a breathtakingly beautiful section. We were graced by stunningly sunny weather, marred only slightly by the high heat and the smoggy haze which pervades all areas around Beijing. And the section around Simatai is incredible. Steep inclines are the norm, some of the steps causing significant trepidation, as well as the excellent calf workout we were inclined to expect. Though portions of the Wall have been repaired, many of the guard towers are crumbling and some sections of the Wall itself are rather dilapidated. This gives it an air of authenticity that is wonderful to experience. Moreover, the views are amazing. Because of the steep inclines, you can see the Wall disappearing into the distance in both directions. So you are able to see the countless peaks surrounding the area and the Wall itself snaking amongst them, fading into the haze in the distance. It's quite an experience.

There's something about actually being on the Great Wall that is very different than just seeing pictures or reading about it. You can look into the history, read the stats and plan a trip. But when you're actually present on the wall, it's almost hard to believe it's real. The scope and grandeur inherent in its existence is evocative. You can almost imagine the frustration and bafflement of the Mongol hordes who were repelled by it and the mixture of anger and respect it must have engendered in the attacking armies. To have constructed something of this scale using the methods and tools of the day is a testament to perseverance, truly lofty goals and a relentless and ruthless quest for self-preservation. To read about the Wall is to be staggered by the numbers and facts; to stand upon its length is to be awed and humbled at what humanity can achieve.

Of course, as truly awesome as the Wall was–and as indicative of the capabilities of the ancient Chinese–the area surrounding it, which we named Fake-Town, was equally representative of modern China, or at least my stereotype of it. You see, surrounding the Simatai area of the Great Wall is a town. Comprised of classically-styled Chinese buildings, bridges and canals, this town is actually pretty substantial in size. It took us about 45 minutes, possibly more, to walk through and included a huge town-square complete with theatre. This significant residential area is a lovely example of Chinese living, nestled securely under the towering Great Wall, no doubt sheltering its residents from invading forces. This town did not exist four years ago, and it sits eerie and mostly empty at the moment.
As near as I can tell, the goal is to make Simatai an attraction closer in popularity to Badaling, presumably to drive up tourism revenue. However, rather than preserve the rustic, challenging nature of the wall and instead increase the frequency of buses to the site, for example, the Chinese have built a completely artificial town, Disneyland-style, to act as its own attraction, and have forced all visitor to the Wall to walk through it to get there. Fake-town is the height of surreal: it looks like a regular, run-of-the-mill town, with labyrinthine streets, interconnected canals and numerous shops, but the vast majority are empty shells of buildings, without even plumbing or electricity, as far as we could see. It's a veneer of living with nothing behind it.

And the weirdest part? All the Chinese tourists LOVED IT. People were stopping left, right and centre to pose for countless photos of Fake-Town. They'd pose next to doors, on bridges, against walls and down alleyways. Keep in mind, there is exaclty ZERO historical significance to this place. Sure, it architecturally resembles classic Chinese building styles, down to the carved wooden windows and sloping roofs. But it is, in matter of fact, pure artifice, created to engender a sense of history and presence where there is none. It's no different than the "Main Street USA" section of Disneyworld, only it happens to surround one of the greatest engineering achievements in human history (which is also one of the seven wonders of the ancient world). So the fact that there were far more people in Fake-Town than on the wall, indicating very clearly that a great many came just to see the spooky town devoid of life and authenticity, is a best a bit odd and an interesting statement on the human condition, and at worst downright depressing and condemning of Chinese tourism and the malleability and gullibility of our beliefs in history.

The weirdness of Fake-Town aside, I'm glad we go to see a section of the wall that so closely resembles its true self and its former glory. It was definitely challenging the climb that section of the wall, but there's a stark beauty to the crumbling edifice. And the sight of the wall extending into the infinite distance is something that everyone should experience. It's a shame that we were unable to complete the full length of the Simatai-to-Jinshanling hike, but I'm glad we did the bit we did. It's hard to imagine a trip to China, or at least a first-ever trip, as complete without a trip to the Wall. To do it in a rough-and-ready, yet largely quiet and serene section was absolutely the right choice for us.y1tu
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China Trip 2014: Peking In On Our Travel Plans

Beijing: the forbidden city, the Great Hall of the People, Tiananmen Square, the Temple of Heaven and Peking Duck. This is what we had in mind. Of course, we are also aware and wary of some of the notorious downsides: the crush of people, oppressive air pollution, and the risks of being swindled and ripped off that come with any major city. But all in all, we had high hopes for Beijing: where Shanghai is ultra-modern and forever coloured by western influences and a history of colonisation, Beijing was to be a truer glance into the real China experience.

We'd elected to take the bullet train to Beijing instead of flying, both for comfort and convenience, as well as for the experience itself. I love high-speed rail and we both enjoy the chance to see the scenery as we speed across the country on polished rails at a brisk 300kph. The scenery, however, wasn't exactly verdent green fields and pastoral life; instead it was new cities comprised of dozens of identical sky-scraper apartment blocks seemingly thrust up from the ground fully complete and awaiting an influx of humanity. It was new highways and infrastructure. And, of course, dozens of factories producing the concrete to make all this possible. The other downside was a trend we would notice throughout our travels: Chinese people (if you'll excuse the generalistion) are very loud. When they speak to each other in person they seem to be shouting; on the phone it's even worse. Oddly, it only seems to happen when they're speaking Chinese. We would see people change from high-decibel Chinese to normal-conversational-level English in adjoining sentences. Added to this is the fact that there seems to be very little taboo about playing music or videos or games on your phone without using headphones. The two men next to us on the train to Beijing spent all five hours playing videos and slot machine games on their tablets, every sound blasting out through the built-in speakers. It did not make for the most restful journey.

The hostel we selected for this leg was the Happy Dragon hostel, chosen from HostelWorld, one of my go-to websites for cheap accommodation. In this instance, it was not a great choice, for two reasons. First, the bed. The double bed we'd selected was in fact two single beds pushed together, with a nice solid wooden bar smack down the middle. The mattresses also appeared to be made out of some form of sheetrock. Comfort, it turns out, was not a high priority. The second issue was one which would emerge as one of the constant features we would notice in our time in China: perpetual construction and perpetual noise. We have yet to visit anywhere in China where there isn't a significant quantity of construction going on at all times, but our Beijing Hostel was a particularly egregious example: the building directly across the street was being torn down or extensively renovated or something, which required heavy and loud construction to occur starting at 4AM, complete with Chinese workers yelling at each other at all times, continuing the trend of needlessly-high-volume speech. The construction also added a layer of dust that pervades the city and dirties every surface.

Lest you think our Beijing experience was wholly negative, let me delve into some of the positives that we found during our time there. The hostel, though loud and equipped with terrible beds, was in a very interesting area of town: the Hutong area. These interconnected alleyways are a glimpse into the more traditional Beijing living, before the skyscrapers and mega-malls became the norm. Our first day, we wandered down a series of hutongs, and were amazed at the differences: one could be nearly silent and wholly residential, the next could be practically pulsing with activity and energy, thronged with young people and shops. We selected a middle-ground: a fairly quiet hutong, but one with some nice cafés, and most excitingly for Katy, a cat café where we could set, pat the kitties, and watch the world go by. A lovely rest after a fairly hectic travel day. We followed this up with an excellent dinner with Frank, a chap from Katy's course, and Frank's wife. This gave us the chance to eat at a wonderful restaurant we'd have never discovered otherwise.

On the successive days, we hit many of the highlights we most wanted to see. The Summer Palace, a sprawling, beautiful park centered around a lake and dotted with temples, outdoor hallways, bridges and walking paths is a wonderful and surprisingly tranquil escape from the city, at least when it's not mobbed with innumerable Chinese tourists shouting into their phones and photographing anything that will sit still for five seconds. The drum and bell towers require a steep ascent up rather perilous flights of stairs, but provide excellent views across Beijing (and the drum ceremony is deafening and incredible). The Tibetan Buddhist Lama temple has a certain peacefulness despite the crowds and is jammed full of art, icons and ceremonial items from a fascinating tradition. And the Temple of Heaven, an expansive park nestled into the centre of Beijing is a beautiful, if repetitive at times, park clustered around a handful of artistic, elegant temples and greenspace. So we had some truly lovely experiences.

Sadly, we missed out on one of our biggest to-dos: the Forbidden City. Arguably the main attraction in Beijing, we had dearly wanted to see it, but were stymied on two occasions: once due to us moving slowly in the morning, being confronted by swarms of people and an inability to find breakfast (making us both feel murderous rage to the swarms of people and deciding that we should eat and go to the Summer Palace instead). Secondly because it was inexplicably closed on the day we tried to go. It turns out that while normally the Forbidden City is open every day (hence the guidebooks and websites giving us no indication it wouldn't be), it's closed on Mondays for the first half of this year, for renovations. So unfortunately, we didn't get a chance to see this rather remarkable place; something for the next trip, perhaps.

We did make it to the Great Wall, however (at Simatai), though I am going to detail that in its own blog post.

The food we had in Beijing was lovely overall. Most famous, of course, is the Beijing Duck. A delicate and flavourful dish that involves a rather elaborate cooking and serving ceremony, this dish lives up to its billing. We actually ate it three times over the course of our stay, and each time was slightly different, but always succulent. We also went twice to Mali Mali hotpot, a (mostly) Sichuan hotpot place that was so entertained by our visit that they insisted on taking pictures for what appeared to be their "Wall of non-Chinese diners". Numerous other little meals of dumplings, beef and chicken always were tasty and varied, and it's safe to say that the food was definitely a high point, even though I never quite worked up the courage to try the fried scorpions or silk worms on offer from some of the street vendors.

We also had an excellent experience that occurred-as many of the best memories do-through pure happenstance. On our final night in Beijing, we'd booked into the bests-reviewed Beijing Duck restaurant in the Lonely Planet (considered to be one of the better-known and better-respected duck restaurants in the city). Katy and I were meeting another friend of hers from her course who'd elected to do a few days in Beijing before flying home. But we arrived a little bit early, so set off in search of a few beers and a place to sit. In the end, we settled on a tiny, grubby little diner/convenience store/bar hybrid, clearly frequented solely by locals, which sold us the cheapest beers of our entire trip (about 55p for a 600mL bottle). We sat out on the terrace to relax and drink, and soon a dish arrived, sent by the next table. One of the chaps there spoke English, and explained that the vegetable dish he'd sent over was a local Beijing vegetable delicacy, available only for a week or two per year. It was delicious, though we never knew what it was (he said it was from a tree of some sort, we suspect it might have been young, tender bamboo shoots). We ended up chatting with the guys and sharing beers until Katy's friend arrived and we headed to our duck, then joining them for one more round after the meal. It was a fun little slice of local life.

Overall, I wasn't as impressed with Beijing as I'd expected to be, and Katy wasn't blown away either. There were some definite highlights-the Summer Palace is amazing and the areas where the Chinese tour groups don't venture are rather tranquil. The morning market (food and clothing primarily) outside our hostel was a frenetic bustle of energy and semi-organised chaos that was fun to see. And there still is a sense of recent history in the Hutongs, and some beauty in the Temple of Heaven, the temples and the old towers. However, the omnipresent dust and noise that belie the perpetual construction are overwhelming, the throngs of shouting, pushy, inconsiderate people (many of whom clear their throats loudly and spit openly wherever they are) and the general sense of disorganisation and inefficieny are maddening. We certainly enjoyed our time, and enjoyed specific aspects greatly. But it didn't quite live up to our hopes for a view of "Real China". Perhaps our view of modern China was just skewed.

China Trip 2014: I've been Shanghaied!

So, another year, another big trip to Asia. It hadn't been my intent to come back to the Far East so soon. As much as I loved Vietnam and Malaysia in 2010 and my trip with Shane last year (for which I will eventually finish the blog posts), it had meant that my last two major trips had been to Asia. Katy and I had discussed where we'd wanted to go, and Ethiopia was actually the fore-runner. But then Katy got on a training course with her work that involved a week in Shanghai and the opportunity for use both to fly for the cost of her flights alone was too tempting to pass up. So, China it was!

We flew separately, because her course would go for a week before we'd meet up and start our travels. In addition, her company was generous enough to fly her Virgin Atlantic business class; my personal budget was more in the range of "whatever is cheapest on Kayak", which turned out to be a FinnAir flight with a sixteen and a half-hour layover in Helsinki. This sounds like a terrible option, but actually was OK: the stopover was long enough that I got a hostel room for the night, wandered around a rainy Helsinki for a few hours, had some brunch and pottered off back to the airport. Helsinki seems really lovely, and it was a Saturday night and the nightlife seemed really interesting as well; I have bookmarked it as a city to visit again some day.

My outbound flight landed me in Shanghai at about 7:00 in the morning on Monday, after one of the worst flight I've ever had, trapped smack in the middle of a three-family travel group with seven children aged about four through eight. The child next to me, notably, had an amazing ability to spend all flight flailing around and elbowing me in the side every ten minutes. I was also two rows in front of two toddlers, which didn't make things any easier. So I was pretty tired for most of my first day, but determined to soldier on so as not to get badly time-shifted.

I would spend the first two days on my own before meeting Katy, so I tried to cram in as many sights and to-dos as I could, especially ones she'd done before her course started or that I knew wouldn't interest her. So I did a walk along the Bund, the area that abuts the river on the west side and overlooks the stunning ultra-modern business district with its iconic and dominating skyline. I have a deep love of cool modern skyscrapers, so really loved the view, despite the greyness of the day. To me, this skyline alone defines much of the reality of modern China: precious little of it existed as recently as 35 years ago. If you do a Google image search for "Shanghai then and now", you will see the difference and it is striking; surpassed only by the transformation Dubai has undergone in even less time. China's growth, truly is rampant. With the largest population in the world and the second-largest economy, China has embraced growth and capitalism with a fervour you rarely see in communists. Pudong, the business district of Shanghai, is hugely emblematic of this; growth from nothing into one of the world's premier centres of finance in a few decades, shining glass monoliths scraping the sky with more being built, but very little sense of history; everything old being relegated to the far side of the river, isolating the old from the new (and progressively bulldozing the old to make room for more of the new).

In addition to the Bund, I had a stroll through a portion of the more-traditional Old Town on my way to the Yuyuan gardens and bazaar. The gardens are a lovely, labyrinthine warren of cultivated trees, traditional buildings and stonework interspersed with bridges, archways and flowers throughout. Thronged with tourists, yet still somewhat peaceful. Walled off from the surrounding areas, this presents a rare glimpse into a sense of yesteryear, albeit a cultivated view originally designed for royalty. The bazaar which surrounds it is a frenetic, bustling warren of shops and restaurants, even more thoroughly thronged with tourists and those who capitalise on them. I am very certain, that had I wished to do so, I could have furnished an entire army with fake Rolexes and handbags.

After getting my fill of the gardens and bazaar, I decided that the soup dumplings I had (much of which ended up on my trouser legs) wasn't nearly enough to sustain me for the day and headed to a Sichuan restaurant for some food. Those who know me well will know of my affinity for spicy food; Sichuan was one of the cuisines I was really looking forward to. And though it wasn't as spicy as I'd anticipated, the chill poached frog certainly was redolent with the numbing effect of the Sichuan pepper. The meat was tender and juicy, though quite a lot of work to eat around the numerous bones.

From there, it was a short walk to People's Square and the Urban Planning Hall, to see the future of Shanghai as the planners dream for it to be. The display was rather interesting, notably the model of the forecast of Shanghai circa 2020, but by this point my long days of travel were starting to catch up to me, so I fear I might not have had quite the learning experience I might have hoped for. I headed back to the hostel to check in properly (I'd gone in the morning just to drop my main bag) and lie down to rest up a little bit. 

In the hostel, I ended up meeting and chatting with a few folk also on their travels, and we decided to go out in the evening to take in the views from the WFC, the World Finance Centre, the current tallest building in Shanghai (soon to be supplanted by the creatively-named Shanghai Tower, which is nearing completion). The WFC has viewing galleries at the 94th, 97th and 100th floor; the latter is by far the best, as the lights are turned off throughout the floor, allowing for an amazing view of the city around you. We'd gotten up there with only 20 minutes to spare before the lights turned off; it is interesting to me how many of the city centre's lights are extinguished at night, from 10:00PM onwards. The city genuinely goes quite dark, which stands in rather stark comparison to London, Tokyo, Hong Kong, etc. which are lit up with the brilliance of thousands of neon tubes and bulbs at all hours.

The next day was a more relaxed one. With my compatriots from the hostel, we walked around the Old Town and took in the sights of both more-traditional Chinese living, a more traditional tea house, and some rather run-down, even derelict neighbourhoods that still possessed a certain desolate beauty and intrigue. We then took a cheap cab to the French concession, had a few beers on a nearly-empty roof terrace bar (as you do), and I was finally able to make contact with Katy, and made plans to meet her and her coursemates in Tianzifang, a network of alleys-cum0restaurants and shops, largely aimed at tourists, but not too outlandishly expensive. We had some beers, some food and ended up heading back to Katy's hotel to finish off the night with a few more drinks with her coursemates to allow her to say farewell to those she'd gotten to know rather well in a seemingly very intense week.

And with that, Katy's and my vacation has begun. We were both pretty exhausted, so our day was a relaxed wander. We had some brunch, then went to a tailor where Katy had had some clothes made and needed a few alterations. We took a motorcycle cab to Xiantandi, basically a posh, upscale pedestrianised area, for some beers and food then strolled over to Tianzifang for some dinner (Balinese food). Then an early night at the hostel.

I'm writing this now from our 300kph train en route to Beijing. We have passed further signs of China's voracious growth on our journey: innumerable concrete factories, vast quarries stripped to their core, row after row of brand-new high-rise apartment buildings, many still clad in the wrapping-paper-esque facades of construction netting. Many of these places are seemingly in the middle of nowhere, far removed from the dual centres of Shanghai and Beijing, yet they are seemingly designed to hold millions of individuals. Growth of this sort seems to only go one of two ways: massive, enduring prosperity, or overspending and inevitable collapse. China is the country to watch in the next two decades. For all the bureaucratic inefficiencies and political intransigence, there is a hunger to the nation and its companies that seems to have faded in the west; it's going to be an interesting journey.

Another interesting thing to note: I'm posting this blog entry by emailing it to my father. Because my blog is banned in China as a result of using Google's platform. Though Google's search engine is available in a heavily-censored form, Facebook, Twitter, YouTube and much more is also completely filtered without some significant technical workarounds (VPNs and the like). It's fascinating to me to think that this pinnacle of modern commerce, this most significant of trading partners can so heavily work against the most fundamental principles of freedom of speech and association. The power of its economy is great, though, and while I would dearly love to see true liberty come to this area, I suspect that the economic might and the inability of the west to extricate itself from the incomprehensibly large trade with China will render the debate moot. Simply put, China can afford to maintain an open affront to western values of freedom of speech and self-actualisation on this scale because without them, our economies would implode.

More posts to come. Next up: Beijing and the Great Wall!