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Published: March 14th 2011
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The group of foreigners.Two hours of sleep later, I woke up and packed up all my stuff. Alicia and I checked out of the hotel but were allowed to leave our bags at the front desk until that evening when we would stop by on our way to the train station. Our train was to leave at 5:45 PM so we had all day to make our way out to the Great Wall.
The plan was to take the subway up to the bus station we were TRYING to get to the day before so we could catch the No. 919 bus (16 RMB- less than $3.00) out to the GW for about. We successfully made it to the station by 9:30 AM and looked around for the No. 919. None in sight. We must have looked VERY confused because a young local approached us and asked (in English) if he could help us. I replied with a heavy sigh, “Yes, PLEASE!”
This was my last day in Beijing and I was NOT going to leave without seeing the Great Wall of China. It just wasn’t an option.
The young man went up to one of the bus drivers and asked
when the next No. 919 would be getting there. “He said you just missed the last one by about 15 minutes. No more 919’s today. BUT, if you walk about 200 meters that way, there will be another stop with other busses.” Shocked that they would stop transporting people to such an enormous tourist attraction so early in the morning, we thanked the young man and walked toward the next station.
What we didn’t realize quite yet was that this was the beginning a well-organized tourist trap. Here we go.
As we got to the other bus stop, we saw a small ticket box but no one in it. Starting to get confused, we notice a group of foreigners (other white folk!) who looked equally as confused and frustrated. Making eye contact we all realized we were in a similar boat. Alicia and I went up to them and asked them if they speak English. They did! Three young women- Teresa, Verena, and Sabrina- from Austria. Teresa is fluent in Mandarin and informed us that they were there the day before and kept getting the same story (“Oh, you JUST missed the last bus.”). Today, they were told
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Base of the Great Wall at Badaling the same thing by one driver, then by another that we need to look for the No. 919-6 bus. We wait. And wait. About 30 minutes went by and we watched the 919-1, 919-2, -3, -4, and -5 come and go. (Yes, our bus is next!) A few more minutes and I squinted to read the route number on the approaching bus. … … … No. 919-7.
At this point, I was laughing hysterically. The fact that they were making it so difficult to get there became humorous. I’m not sure if it was because I am on vacation that it didn’t bother me so much. Or maybe knowing that I had no way of yelling and chewing someone out until they gave us some accurate information kept me light-hearted about the whole thing. It became a game to me to see how bizarre the next driver’s story would be.
We finally realized why they were making it so difficult. The next driver told us, “It’s 16RMB on the bus, only if you have money on a bus pass, otherwise, it’s 45 RMB. But if you want to avoid the hassle you can take taxi.” AHH, there it
is! The cab driver’s want us to use them so they can charge us an arm and a leg. Around this time, we spotted a few more disgruntled foreigners. Xavier, Molly, and Laura, from France. Xavier also, speaks fluent Mandarin and was being put through the same ringer by the bus and taxi drivers. Eventually, we all realized that we would probably never see a bus that connects to the GW so we decided to get to cabs and split the fare. Xavier haggled with several drivers and finally settled on a price of 800RMB (about $120) for 2 cars to take the eight of us and wait there to bring us back. Split up, it only cost us about $15 each. Definitely not a BAD deal but more than the original plan entailed.
Since the other groups had three people, Alicia and I split up. She rode with the Austrians and I rode with the Frenchies.
Getting to the GW was beautiful in itself, riding down the winding roads through the mountains. Sporadic temples perched on random peaks of the mountains seem to reach for the heavens and the slopes were covered with a thick green padding of
canopy. It was an amazing difference from the concrete jungle I had been used to seeing in all the cities of China.
There isn’t really much to say about the actually wall itself. It is long and winding. Very steep at places. The steps are uneven and in some places the slopes don’t have steps; it’s more like a ramp. The weather was perfect for it. It was crisp and breezy and offered a great reward to the effort put into the trek. It’s no easy task, after all; my legs were sore for two days after that. Alicia developed a method of walking backwards on the sloped parts so that she wasn’t working the same muscle groups the whole time. Haha
Alicia and I mostly stuck with the Austrians but I went ahead a few times so that I could enjoy the scenery, take pictures, and capture my own sense of solitude (among hundreds of tourists) with the wall and the expansive countryside. When I reached the highest part of my trek, my favorite part was leaning over the side of the wall and letting the breeze whip by while I looked out at the rest of
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Austrians the wall snaking through the mountains. Similar to my time walking through the streets of Beijing, the marriage of all the sensations at once really enhanced the overall experience. I am so grateful for meeting the other foreigners who helped Alicia and I to get there. It’s something I would have regretted not doing.
After we left the GW and took our taxis back to the city, we split up from the Frenchies and decided to go to lunch with the Austrians. They are all really fun girls so we wanted to spend a little more time with them. Besides, we had a few hours until we had to be at the train station. We finished up lunch, exchanged contact information and went our separate ways. Alicia and I got off the subway to walk back to our hotel to get our bags. Alicia and I spotted a bakery across the street (Chinese bakeries have become our weakness. We can never walk by one without at least peering in at the goods, often buying something) and she asked if we had to time go. I checked the time and my exact words were, “Why not?” After all, we had
about an hour until our train left and we weren’t far from the hotel. So we went, we perused, we bought some goodies, and went on our way. Arriving at the hotel, we quickly changed into our “train clothes” and set out for a taxi. Realizing half-way as we’re out of the door that we are now down to about 25 minutes until the train departs and it’s rush hour.
Panicked, we start running to the main road and eventually (after at least 10 minutes) get a cab. We quickly realize that we aren’t going to make it. We were told that it was the last train of the night so we were going through our options- go to the station and change the tickets (hope there might be another train that night) for the next morning, go back to the hotel and pay for another night, call the Austrians and ask if we can impose, sleep in the train station, etc.
We finally made it to the station and to the terminal….about 25 minutes late. We were able to get a refund for our tickets less 20% of the price and inquired about which train to take
back. We were in luck. There was a slow train leaving about 30 minutes later. It was a sleeper train and would put us in Zhengzhou at about 4:00 AM instead of 10:45 PM. We were thrilled to hear this and quickly booked the tickets. It turns out the slow train tickets are about 20% cheaper than the fast train so we actually gained 1 RMB (about $.15) by missing our train! Haha
We were nervous about it being a sleeper train and not being able to keep an eye on all of our belongings while we slept but were happy to not be stuck in Beijing until the morning. The bunks on the trains are three-high and they are on either side of each section. We quickly noticed that we were placed in separate sections (they were side by side, but it would still be uncomfortable being completely surrounded by strangers). I did my best to communicate with an older Chinese man and ask if he would mind switching bunks with me. He seemed to be socializing with the other guys in my section so I thought he wouldn’t mind. He didn’t, so I moved my stuff over
and got comfortable. A few minutes later he came over and was speaking to me in Chinese and with a tone that, to me, sounded angry. I was confused and thought he was upset that I took his bed. It turned out that he was happy to be bunked next to a pair of Americans and wanted to toast with me. He sat me down and pulled out an economy-sized bottle of baijiu and poured me a cup. Yes, a cup. If you don’t remember what that is, it’s a VERY strong liquor (about 56% alcohol) that is used traditionally to celebrate and toast on special occasion around the Chinese New Year. So there we were, with a Chinese man, a few of his buddies (none of whom spoke any English at all), a full 8-10 ounces of very strong liquor and a table of snacks to munch on. This was definitely not the night I had expected to have. The gentlemen were very nice and tried as hard as they could to communicate speaking Chinese (a futile cause) and even tried several times to draw the characters for us (an even more futile cause). It was a fun experience.
The Chinese people are always so helpful and generous to us.
After a couple of hours, we all went to sleep and the train went dark and silent. We awoke at around 3:30AM when the train attendant came around to tell us our stop was the next one. We gathered our belongings and got off when the train finally halted. By the time we made it out of the train station it was 4:30AM and Alicia and I were craving McDonald’s breakfast so we took a taxi to the one directly across from our apartment and waited until they started serving at 5:00. We enjoyed out greasy meals, walked across the street, up four flights of stairs to our apartment, and went to sleep for several more hours.
Beijing was nothing short of an adventure and I’m glad we got to experience all of it (despite the numerous obstacles along the way). I feel like they make for better memories. Who likes a boring, stick-to-the-agenda vacation anyway?
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