The Great Wall of China - an earlier trip
It is October 2003 and Hans and I just exited a tour bus at the base of the Great Wall. We're lucky, because it's only a few months after the SARS scare and foreign tourists in China are down an incredible 90%. Yet here, amidst the throngs of people, it's hard to imagine the numbers are down. I cannot fathom what this place must have looked liked a few short months - and an additinoal 90% - earlier.
The tour guide offered us an two options: we could be deposited on top of The Wall via a gondola system or, we could hoof up the traditional way. However, we had to be unanimous in our decision as the two entrances were far apart and the bus could only park in one place. I knew the group would opt for walking and I was secretly concerned. Not only is The Wall high, but the buses had to park so far down the hill that they became mere specks in the distance.
From the top of The Wall, the panorama was exquisite. As far as we could see, shrubs and grasses were ablaze with brilliant reds and yellows. Under our feet, the history of eons seeped into our soles. We began our walk.
The Wall is said to be wide enough for 6 horses to ride abreast, but they must have been small horses. The road's not very wide and it undulates to follow the crest of the mountains on which it is built. As the mountains soar, so does The Wall. At the point where The Wall makes an abrupt 90 degree turn, there's a little hut, sort of a watchtower which looks like a little chapel. I could see it in the distance, really not so far, but at a considerable elevation. I also saw many people sitting on the stairs just before it and I made it my goal.
Even as we approached the watchtower, we were holding onto the railing. The road became so steep in parts that the angle at which my foot was in relation to my leg was decidedly uncomfortable. Even as I write and flex my foot, I can't bend it up as high as I needed it on that climb. Then came the stairs to the hut where even the ancient engineers had deemed the angle too steep for walking. Oddly, the stairs aren't a uniform height. Instead, the first step was about 4" high, the next 8", then 6", then only 2". Then several steep ones each about 12" higher that the last, and narrow. More like a ladder than any stairs I had ever climbed.
"What lunatic designed this?" I wondered breathlessly. Even my thoughts had laboured breathing. I learned later that the stairs are at different heights to slow down the enemy, especially in the dark, since he can't anticipate the next step. It necessitates slow going. No problem there. Those little buggers were fit! I needed both hands on the railing just to pull myself along.
The lookout tower offered nothing in the way of comforts. There were only window openings in every direction. The Wall carried on, first dropping precipitously and then soaring to an even greater height, with hundreds more stairs! I knew I couldn't do it and told Hans I'd wait for him so he could go on unencumbered by my pace. He later told me that even he had found the going rough and that he was glad I hadn't tried it.
Meanwhile, I headed back down and those incredibly steep steps, backwards.
At the section where we originally entered The Wall there was a slightly lower railing against which I could lean, and so I waited there. Soon after, a smartly dressed young Chinese couple approached me. He didn't speak English, but had a camera and gestured to it. Smiling, I reached for it thinking he wanted me to take their picture. "No no", he motioned. Instead, he indicated he wanted his pretty young wife to stand beside me and then took MY picture! Amused, I let it happen. They bowed effusively and with broad smiles, headed off.
Five minutes later, a group of three giggling older women approached me with the same request. I was to pose with each of them in turn as they smiled, gap-toothed, with their sun bonnets jauntily perched at a rakish angle.
It happened several more times and I was beginning to enjoy myself. Then a group of men approached and stopped a little further away from me. Much talk ensued amongst them. Finally the boldest one approached me with the usual request for a photo and when I indicated my compliance, he snuggled right up and put his arm firmly around my shoulders. I laughed out loud just as his friend snapped the photo. He retreated to his friends, and more animated talk ensued. I thought he was trying to convince the others to also pose with me but they were too shy, so instead, he came back for a second photo and stood beside me. No arm around me this time. Instead, he dipped his chin and tapped his opposite shoulder indicating I should put my arm around him. Why not.
I had my picture taken many times that afternoon. No doubt I am featured in many family albums and probably introduced as the young man's Caucasian girlfriend. Who knows. But for that afternoon, I was the Siren of The Wall.
The tour guide offered us an two options: we could be deposited on top of The Wall via a gondola system or, we could hoof up the traditional way. However, we had to be unanimous in our decision as the two entrances were far apart and the bus could only park in one place. I knew the group would opt for walking and I was secretly concerned. Not only is The Wall high, but the buses had to park so far down the hill that they became mere specks in the distance.
From the top of The Wall, the panorama was exquisite. As far as we could see, shrubs and grasses were ablaze with brilliant reds and yellows. Under our feet, the history of eons seeped into our soles. We began our walk.
The Wall is said to be wide enough for 6 horses to ride abreast, but they must have been small horses. The road's not very wide and it undulates to follow the crest of the mountains on which it is built. As the mountains soar, so does The Wall. At the point where The Wall makes an abrupt 90 degree turn, there's a little hut, sort of a watchtower which looks like a little chapel. I could see it in the distance, really not so far, but at a considerable elevation. I also saw many people sitting on the stairs just before it and I made it my goal.
Even as we approached the watchtower, we were holding onto the railing. The road became so steep in parts that the angle at which my foot was in relation to my leg was decidedly uncomfortable. Even as I write and flex my foot, I can't bend it up as high as I needed it on that climb. Then came the stairs to the hut where even the ancient engineers had deemed the angle too steep for walking. Oddly, the stairs aren't a uniform height. Instead, the first step was about 4" high, the next 8", then 6", then only 2". Then several steep ones each about 12" higher that the last, and narrow. More like a ladder than any stairs I had ever climbed.
"What lunatic designed this?" I wondered breathlessly. Even my thoughts had laboured breathing. I learned later that the stairs are at different heights to slow down the enemy, especially in the dark, since he can't anticipate the next step. It necessitates slow going. No problem there. Those little buggers were fit! I needed both hands on the railing just to pull myself along.
The lookout tower offered nothing in the way of comforts. There were only window openings in every direction. The Wall carried on, first dropping precipitously and then soaring to an even greater height, with hundreds more stairs! I knew I couldn't do it and told Hans I'd wait for him so he could go on unencumbered by my pace. He later told me that even he had found the going rough and that he was glad I hadn't tried it.
Meanwhile, I headed back down and those incredibly steep steps, backwards.
At the section where we originally entered The Wall there was a slightly lower railing against which I could lean, and so I waited there. Soon after, a smartly dressed young Chinese couple approached me. He didn't speak English, but had a camera and gestured to it. Smiling, I reached for it thinking he wanted me to take their picture. "No no", he motioned. Instead, he indicated he wanted his pretty young wife to stand beside me and then took MY picture! Amused, I let it happen. They bowed effusively and with broad smiles, headed off.
Five minutes later, a group of three giggling older women approached me with the same request. I was to pose with each of them in turn as they smiled, gap-toothed, with their sun bonnets jauntily perched at a rakish angle.
It happened several more times and I was beginning to enjoy myself. Then a group of men approached and stopped a little further away from me. Much talk ensued amongst them. Finally the boldest one approached me with the usual request for a photo and when I indicated my compliance, he snuggled right up and put his arm firmly around my shoulders. I laughed out loud just as his friend snapped the photo. He retreated to his friends, and more animated talk ensued. I thought he was trying to convince the others to also pose with me but they were too shy, so instead, he came back for a second photo and stood beside me. No arm around me this time. Instead, he dipped his chin and tapped his opposite shoulder indicating I should put my arm around him. Why not.
I had my picture taken many times that afternoon. No doubt I am featured in many family albums and probably introduced as the young man's Caucasian girlfriend. Who knows. But for that afternoon, I was the Siren of The Wall.
Comments
Great story! I think this is a perfect place for you to share travel tales.