Beidaihe, Tuesday, September 4
I woke at 4:00 a.m. and couldn't get back to sleep, so I watched an Italian game show on TV - pretty sad. After breakfast I walked over to the station and quickly found my train. It was much less confusing than the Beijing station.

The car was packed with loud, excited schoolgirls, presumably on an outing. The seats were arranged facing each other and I felt lucky to be in a row with some older Chinese. My bad luck was to be stuck in the middle seat. Since I was the last to sit down, I said, "Ni hao" (hello) to everybody. They smiled and said "Ni hao'" back. As the only westerner in the car, my seatmates watched my every move.

No sooner had we pulled out than a baby in the seat across the aisle barfed. Everyone jumped up to help. As soon as that minor tragedy was addressed another baby started to wail. I thought to myself, "My, this is certainly going to be a long ride."

With the schoolgirls screeching and the babies crying, the flat, fertile land slid slowly by outside the window. To amuse my seatmates I got out my passport and passed it around - many comments were made. I wonder what they said.

There was a steady stream of traffic in the car. An attendant came by with a pot of hot water to fill the tea drinker’s jars. Then a vendor pushed a cart by selling ice cream, sausage and Coke. Periodically an attendant would sweep the floor. Passengers got up and headed to the area between the cars to use the bathroom, talk on their mobile phones or to have a smoke.

Everyone was eating - eggs, biscuits, fruit, candy bars and containers of noodles. It was a moving village, one I was quickly accepted into. The fellow next to me had a train schedule - in Chinese of course - and that helped to pass the time noting each station we stopped at.

As we neared Beidaihe passengers started getting off and the attendant came through for one last sweep up. Outside the station I was mobbed by taxi drivers all shouting at once. I showed them the name of my hotel and then asked the price. They started at 30 Yuan, but quickly dropped to 20 ($2.50). I remained suspicious and walked away - there was no shortage of drivers. After doing this several times I started to think the price probably was 20, but for some reason I stubbornly kept trying to get a lower price.

By then there were only two drivers following me - one was a woman. My experience is that women are always safer drivers, so I followed her to her car. I kept trying for 15 Yuan and she kept insisting on 20. When we got to her taxi she pointed at the meter, meaning she would turn it on. I thought that was fair and got in the front seat.

We drove on a new road for most of the 10km to Beidaihe. As we neared the coast there were pine trees and low scrubby bushes. The last few kilometers were over rolling hills. The windows were open and I could smell the sea before I actually saw it.

We drove slowly through the small town to my hotel. It had the rather grand name of Guest House for Diplomatic Missions and at one time apparently was just that - a place for members of diplomatic missions to stay. The taximeter showed 22 Yuan, but the driver only wanted 20. I insisted on giving her what the meter said - that was the deal. She smiled and waved goodbye.

I checked in and got a room with a fabulous view of the sea. Then after having a late lunch at the hotel restaurant- it was now 2:00 - I took a walk to the beach, which was only five minutes away.

The day was bright and hot and the beach was full of Chinese lying in the sun or playing in the water. On the road behind the beach there were restaurants and tourist shops. I walked further and found a fishing pier. There were 30 or 40 small boats at anchor in the shelter of the pier. Several locals were casting into the water and there were a few fish flopping on the pier. At the end there was barge tied up and a number of women were putting bait in crab traps. I found this place more interesting than the beach and stood watching for quite awhile.

Later I took a nap and woke as it was getting dark. I walked back to the beach and looked at some of the restaurants. Seafood is the specialty in Beidaihe and every restaurant had 10 or more red plastic pans in front. They were full of the strangest creatures I have ever seen - long slimy-looking worms, pale white balls, things with claws and things with shells. I decided I wasn't hungry and picked a little café by some rocks were I could hear the sea crashing. I ordered a beer and sat enjoying the damp salt breeze.

Beidaihe, Wednesday, September 5
It rained quite hard in the night and when I woke it was still drizzling. After breakfast I asked the desk clerk to write instructions for getting to Shanhaiguan. I wanted to visit the Great Wall where it starts - or finishes, depending on your point of view. She wrote the number of the buses and the place where I was to change. The sky was clearing as I left for the station - it looked like it might be a great day.

The ride was quite pleasant. First, we passed hotels and vacation villas - the coast in this area looked quite wealthy. After I changed buses we passed through the busy town of Qinhuangdao. On the far side there were smelly chemical plants and dirty steel mills. To cover its sins one plant had painted a huge mural of a mountain scene on the front of the building.

After about an hour we arrived at "Old Dragon Head." The place is named for the sculpture that used to adorn the Great Wall where it faces the sea. The bus conductor was quite helpful, showing me where everything was on my map. He also showed me where to get the bus into Shanhaiguan so I could see the rest of the Wall.

As I had already purchased my ticket at the hotel - it was a whopping 35 Yuan ($4) - I just walked the mile or so back to the sea. The Wall has been completely rebuilt and looks brand new. Besides an old army barracks and a few temples, there were also tourist shops and restaurants lining the way.

Finally, I climbed on the Wall and had a delightful view of the hazy sea beyond. While the Wall is not nearly as spectacular here as it is near Beijing, it is still quite evocative. Motorboats buzzed in front and a strong sea breeze blew. Most of the tourists were Chinese - I was the only big nose, as the Chinese call us Westerners.

After half an hour I decided to move on to see "First Pass Under Heaven" as the Wall is known in Shanhaiguan. As I stood at the bus stop a man in a pickup truck stopped and offered me a ride. At first he wanted 10 Yuan, but I insisted I wouldn't pay more than the bus - 3 Yuan. Finally, he got a big smile on his face and waived me into the cab. He was very friendly and talked the whole way in Chinese. I, of course, answered him in English. It was a pleasant enough ride.

In less than 10 minutes we were at First Pass. I also had this ticket (another 35 Yuan) and just walked up to the wall. It's pretty flat here and every few hundred yards there was another stand: some selling souvenirs and some snacks. There were also stands where you could have your picture taken in ancient Chinese dress. Toward the north I could see the Wall running in the mountains.

I walked the length and then went looking for something to eat. I walked into Shanhaiguan proper and then out to the main road, but didn't see anyplace that looked inviting. I decided to take the bus back to the hotel and eat there.

Sitting on the bus I realized how hungry I was. As we were passing through Qinhuangdao, I saw a line of restaurants. I decided quite impulsively to get out even though I knew getting something to eat here might be complicated. The town was about halfway between Beidaihe and Shanhaiguan and surely didn't see many tourists. I didn't expect to find any English menus here.

After I got off the bus, I walked back past several places looking in the windows before selecting one. I walked in and tried to talk to the waitress, but she didn't speak any English. The menu, as expected, was in Chinese. She was busy and couldn't, or wouldn't, take the time to help me. After a few minutes I walked out getting hungrier all the time.

Farther down the road I found a more inviting place. Here the waitresses were standing outside greeting customers. This time I took a different tack - I walked in, sat down and ordered a beer. I knew the word for that: pijiu. Then I got out my phrase book - actually it was just a few pages that I had copied from my guidebook - and started looking for the names of food.

The beer and the menu arrived at the same time. I didn't have to look at the latter too long - it was in Chinese and perfectly incomprehensible to me. The waitress stood, note pad in hand, ready to take my order. I drank a little beer to fortify myself and pointed at the word for Chicken: ji. "Well," I thought, "That's a start." The waitress smiled one of those weak half smiles - I guess she was hoping for more direction.

Taking the initiative she picked up my phrase guide and started looking through it. As she read I looked up at her. She was in her late teens or early twenties and wore a lovely red silk uniform. Soon she found the word for dumpling (jiaozi) and pointed to it. Now, we were making progress. "Yes," I exclaimed in relief, "I'll have chicken dumplings."

Actually, I was at the point where I would have considered eating anything. The waitress wrote something on her pad and left me to drink my beer. I sat and looked around the restaurant. It was modern and clean with a lot of varnished wood. There were large plate glass windows overlooking the street and only a few other diners.

After about 10 minutes my waitress-in-red returned with a wok-like pan. She lit a little burner on my table and sat the pan on it. It immediately began to boil. By this point a small crowd of waiters and waitresses had collected around my table. They looked at me: I looked at the wok.

The center of attention, I dipped my chopsticks in to see what awaited me. Sure enough, chicken - and some vegetables and clear noodles. It looked good, but how was I going to eat it? I didn't have a plate.

I looked up at the nearest waiter and mimed eating directly from the wok or from an imaginary plate in my hand. Everyone smiled and the waiter pointed to a tiny plate - I had taken it for a saucer. Ok, I was now ready. My small audience tactfully retreated and I dug in. I suspected they were still watching, but didn't want to know - I just wanted to eat.

The chicken turned out to be mostly bones, what looked like leg joints and some skin - leg-skin, at that. There was very little meat. I wasn't sure if the bones were for flavoring or I was supposed to eat them. I avoided the problem by making the most of the noodles and vegetables.

As I was working on this another dish arrived: a plate of boiled peanuts and raw cucumber. The waitress, who had been reading my phrase guide the whole time, pointed to the word "delivery" (song). I didn't understand what that meant, but smiled at her anyway. She was so sweet and helpful - my savior.

Then the waitress brought me another dish - a bamboo steamer full of small dumplings, maybe 10 or 15 of them. "Wow," I thought, "Did I order this too?" I was starting to fill up but, I charged ahead anyway - I didn't want to disappoint my audience. By now all the other diners had left and the kitchen staff had come in to eat - they sat watching me too.

Finally, I was full. I pushed back my plate, finished my beer and jotted a few notes in my journal. Then I figured it was time to go - my waitress was still standing dutifully by while the rest of the staff was eating.

I asked her for my bill and when it arrived, I give her some money. When she brought back my change I decided to give her a tip for being so helpful. I put some money in her hand, but she quickly and decisively put it on the table. It was clear that wasn't the way to show my gratitude.

She picked up my phrase guide and looked through it. Then she pointed to "I want to be your friend." I was touched - and a little embarrassed. I always feel so ill equipped for these displays of spontaneous generosity. I feel I should have something to give in return, so I did what I often do - I got out my business card and gave her one. If you haven't seen one, they are quite attractive with a map of Michigan filled with eight colored bands - one for each of the Booth Newspapers. I also took her picture standing with the waiters. She looked happy and proud. She was indeed my friend.

I got the next bus back to the hotel. In the evening I went out for a beer again, but nothing happened to top my lunch experience.

Beijing, Thursday, September 6
In the morning I took the "hard seat" train back to Beijing. Hard seat in this case meant no air condition - the benches were still padded and seats still reserved. I was sitting across the aisle from a German couple and we started talking about our travels. Pretty soon a young Chinese woman sitting behind us joined in - she wanted to practice her English.

Somewhere in the conversation I got out my phrase guide and the Chinese girl started reading through it. From there she started trying to teach me Chinese. "Repeat after me," she commanded and then read some Chinese phrases. A small crowd collected to watch the fun - they seemed to love hearing me slaughter Chinese. There are some particularly hard sounds to make and she drilled me over and over on these.

The train seemed to stop at every little station and as the day progressed it grew hotter and hotter in the car. Finally after four long hours we arrived in Beijing. It was blistering hot outside as I went looking for a taxi. I tried two different taxi queues with no luck. The drivers just looked at my map and shook their heads no - I have no idea why. Hot and sweating, I finally found a woman driver who took me to the Lu Song Yuan - see why I prefer women drivers? I gave her a big tip in appreciation, but I doubt she understood why.

In the afternoon I cashed some traveler’s checks and then headed over to Liulichang Street. It's a little southwest of Tiananmen Square and is a lot like the Ancient Culture Street in Tianjin - pedestrian-only and lined with restored buildings selling tourist goods. While completely a creation for the tourists, there are many very interesting shops to visit and I found the clerks were always willing to spend a little time talking.

After dinner I went out and bought a few things for my trip to western China the next morning.

Ann Arbor, Michigan
November 2001

Part One: Beijing & Tianjin
Part Three: Kashgar
Part Four: Urumqi & Turpan
Part Five: Details & Hotels

Read more of my travelogues

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