Train to U B

On the train leaving China, I can now say I'm glad to be gone from Beijing. There were some wonderful moments but the overall impression was of crowds, noise and traffic. Sometimes you could only laugh. The restaurant hostess, slim and fashionable, yelling out reservation numbers on a megaphone. Another restaurant, and the staff is communicating by yelling into walke-talkies, volume set to 'screach'. What can they possibly have to say?  Cab driver on his cell phone, again full volume - volume seems an important quality for communication here.
July is the time for Chinese visitors to come to Beijing and all around town there are huge Chinese tour groups with color coded baseball caps following leaders with flags. Traffic is clogged with convoys of tour buses. The traffic chaos  seems certain to result in accidents, but somehow it never happens. Near where we are staying, dodging bicycles and scooters zipping down the narrow hutong alleyways is critical to survival. 

 

Now it's Wednesday morning and the heat and haze of Beijing is far behind. We travel through the Gobi Desert and there is a bright sunrise and the air is crisp. In about eight hours we will be in Ulaan Baatar. The border crossing last night was a complicated affair involving two sets of passport agents, military border guards saluting the passing train, and jacking up the entire train to change out the undercarrage with new wheels for the Mongolian track which is wider (narrower?) than the Chinese.  

Great Wall

I just can't get my head around the size of this thing. The popular factoid says it is 6,000 miles long. I take that with a grain of salt, but if it was SIX miles long, it would still be amazing. We walk maybe a half mile along the wall - up and down steep pitches, meeting ladies in heels, a wedding photo shoot, a donkey, and a vendor selling water who looks like the last survivor of The Long March. Another hot day and many visitors take shelter in the cool of the watchtowers. The area is rugged and hilly and I just can't imagine any invading army even getting to the wall, let alone getting past it.   

Hot

No threat of rain but it is hot. The air is humid-hazy but the sun beats down. I did not count, but I'm sure everyone in Beijing is in Tienimen Square and The Forbidden City today. Actually, maybe more than that due to the hundreds of tour buses that have brought visitors from out of town. Umbrellas of all colors and shapes shade the harsh sun. For a short while we take refuge from the heat in The Great Hall of the People which is monumental, overscale, and time-frozen in the 1960's.  

In the park later everyone is busy - playing cards,  ballroom dancing, playing music, even an older gentlemen reciting what sounded like Chinese rap. But the highpoint is a group of 50 or so singing patriotic songs with much enthusiasm and nostalgic tenderness. Mao would be proud, but this is not his China anymore.

 

 

Going back, we pay about two dollars for a 25 minute taxi ride but much of the time is spent standing still. Our hotel is a traditional courtyard home - hundreds of years old - in a neighborhood that avoided the urbanization craze that destroyed much of old Beijing. Now buildings are being renovated for shops and bars, but funky charm is the norm.  To the Great Wall tomorrow. 

Beijing

We are here, and just a little jet-lagged. Saturday night in the middle of summer is busy-busy. Walked a lot getting to dinner via a very long route,  it that gave us a chance to see more, right? Lisa looks happy to be almost back to the hotel.