First time visitors to Beijing have to visit the Great Wall. You just have to. So of course Karen and I had to go and see what the big fuss is all about. Rather than going to where the crowds at Badaling were, we chose the less traveled Simatai. Vaguely Planet made it sound relatively simple to get to. Board the bus to Miyun, then a mini bus to Simatai. Nothing to it. For some unknown reason, the editors decided to leave the part out about which Miyun stop to get off and that there is no minibus.

About 90 minutes from Beijing, karen and I enter this little town with signs with Miyun all over. Well we should be in Miyun, afterall, the ticket collector said we should exit here to go to the Wall. Once we got off, we were swarmed by hawkers and hustlers. They knew where were going and we don’t belong. This big fat dude came up and followed us. These folks do not take no for an answer. We walked into a police station thinking they would know. I mean c’mon, it’s the fucking Great Wall! What Chinese in the area wouldn’t know how to get there? A cop is a cop no matter where, so they have no clue. Maybe I should’ve came in bearing the chinese equivalent of krispy kremes or something. Basically, we were told to get back on that 980 bus to get there.

We left the station, the big fat dude was outside waiting, preying, ready to go for the kill. He followed us back on and all these folks were just yapping to us as we waited for the bus. The bus finally came, we tried to board, but that fat fuck tried to block the way. He was so fat, he did block the door. I shoved him out the way, and I guess he yelled at us and probably told the driver and ticket collector not to let us on. The ticket collector told us there’s no bus to the Wall, but for Y200 we can get there! Fuck that! We still had no clue what Miyun stop to get off at. Rather than being harrassed constantly on this second bus ride, we just got off by all these banks. There was a bookstore and banks…. someone’s gotta speak english. Nope. Last resort, call the damn place from my mobile. At this point, who cares about roaming charges. The folks at the Wall “spoke” english. I just couldn’t understand what was coming out their mouths. They couldn’t even tell me how to get there!

Karen and i decided that we can walk to the Wall. We walked and walked and walked and wound up at the Miyun bus terminal. No minibus, but countless hawkers following us waiting for us to get in their taxi. We finally decided that we’ll use the one who was not following us. Negotiated Y150 for the trip and then we were off to see the Wall.

About an hour later we arrived at Simatai. We had planned to be here around noon, but the troubles getting here delayed us about 2 hours. The place closes at 4 so we only had a short time up there. We took the cable car up to the mountain, and hiked for about 30 minutes up the Wall. Along the way, hawkers. These folks are everywhere. When we got up there, hawkers welcomed us. “hi, water, ice cream, soo-neeer.” Water yes, but 10yuan! bastard! Ice cream? It’s 2C. No. Soo-neeer? Thinking back I should’ve bought the “I climbed the great wall shirt.” Tacky, yes.

We pretty much had the Wall to ourselves except 5 or 6 European tourists. The views were incredible, the Wall was amazing. it almost justified the day’s insanity. The plan to hike on the wall was scrapped due to the short time we had there. Nonetheless, we took lots of photos and took home a piece of the Wall for my soo-neeer.

Word of advice to those who want to get the Simatai: if your hostel/hotel offers a bus ride there, take it. Otherwise, grab 970 or 980 all the way to the last stop. Negotiate a price any of those “taxi drivers” to the Wall. Don’t spend more than Y150.

We checked in for the night at HaoYuan Binguan, and planned on washing and resting up before looking for some grub that evening. I’m laying on one of the beds watching CCTV4 when Karen let’s out a scream from the bathroom. I go to see what happens and I see her sitting on the sink and water gushing out from a pipe next to the toilet. I was expecting her to tell me that the toilet overflowed. It was a good thing it wasn’t. Imagine the stuff floating around if it was overflowed.

Apparently, Karen assumed that the flusher was a step flusher, just like it was at the airport. However, instead of stepping on what looked like the flusher button, she kicked it in. These must have been the shittiest pipes ever made. Back home, pipes usually win the war between man and pipe. Not here in China though. The water just kept coming out, I ran to the receptionist, told her what happened. This guy in a suit ran in to see the problem, turned around and returned with golashes, mop, and some tools. They even apologized and I didn’t have the heart to tell them it was our fault. We felt so bad! The water supply had to be shut for an hour so there goes the idea of washing up before dinner. We’ll just go have peking duck smelling like an airplane and Beijing toilet water.

It hit us once we got off the airport bus that China was going to offer an experience like no other. Sure every country is unique in their own right, but I’ve yet to see anything like China and China probably hasn’t seen much of people like me and Karen.

As the locals all tell us, we look Chinese, but we don’t speak Chinese. My laoxing, that’s because we’re Chinese with roots in Hong Kong and Guangzhou (Canton), and most of all we’re American. We just left the part about Americans out. The Putonghau speaking set seem to understand that us and the rest of the Cantonese speakers probably struggle somewhat with Mandarin. We didn’t just struggle, we just didn’t speak it except the Pimsleur phrase, “wo bu hui shuo putonghua.” Yeah, that comes in real handy.

Upon descending the bus, we and the everyone who was on were swarmed by hawkers and hustlers trying to make some cash off the tourists. Who knew that these folks do not take no for an answer. I gotta give it to these folks, they sure are persistent. I do wander how much money they do earn from being so aggressive to tourists. I would imagine it’d be quite a turn off. A bunch of strangers yapping in my ears and tapping and pulling my arms while thumbing for directions to our guesthouse didn’t help with the warming up to the locals. Just piss off and let me read my Vaguely Planet book (more on that later). To get a way from these folks, we ran into Beijing station metro stop. According to our metro map, HaoYuan Binguan is right by the Dengshikou station. Too bad the map didn’t indicate clearly that this station is still under construction. What to do, what to do. I picked up the mobile, quickly dismissing the $3/minute international roaming charges, dialed the hotel. The receptionist suggested we take a taxi which should cost about 20Y (around USD$2) from where we were.

Simple enough yeah? This is China, so of course it’s not simple. It was around 6pm and I think the drivers want to go have dinner and didn’t want to pick us up. Our fare was refused by not just one but numerous drivers. Then came our saviour. This frail old guy who looks like he weighs less than my backpack comes riding in on his 3-wheel cargo bike offering us a ride. We agreed for 20Y. The ride was so slow that women and children walked faster than us. This man has got to be the most fit person on earth being able to haul the 2 of us and 2 stuffed backpacks on that little bike. Throughout the ride, he told us how bad the place we’re staying in is and offered to take us to a better place. I wonder how he knew that HaoYuan Binguan sucked ass when he had no idea that it even existed. The old dude took us to another place up the road thinking we’ve arrived. He even asked for an extra 20Y when we finally got to HaoYuan Binguan. My sympathy for this old guy quickly disappeared like dissenters in China. I tossed him 22Y as he yelled at us.

We just got back from 2 whole weeks in China. I’ve been awake since 5am, Sunday, 11/27 Beijing Time, which is 4pm Saturday EST. I did manage a short snoozes on the plane ride from Xi’an to Beijing and Beijing to New York. I’m so tired I can’t fall asleep. I’m jetlagged like hell and my stomach is still woozy from that bowl of noodles in Xian that was sitting in a pot of hot sauce. Photos and journals from the trip coming up in the next few days.

Ah yes. China and the 13 and a half hour plane ride is finally happening tomorrow morning. I’m not exactly sure what to expect what with everyone telling us about how wild the country can be, and oh yeah, that avian flu thing. My doc said I shouldn’t be too concerned and just enjoy the trip. I mean I just got vaccinated for Hep A & B, typhoid, and for good measure, the seasonal flu. Plus, I’ve been practicing how to say “I cannot speak putonghua” in mandarin on those shitty Pimsleur cds for the past few days. I think we’re armed and ready.

But before we go, we’re gonna see Art Brut tonight at NorthSix after dropping neena and giacomo off at their vacation house in jackson heights. That and gotta finish up packing.