WALLnut

No one knows how long it is. Its location is sometimes based more on a compromise than on empirical evidence. On the map it looks like a broken chain - meandering along mountain ridges, sometimes with its legs astride, popping up in an unexpected spot. Most of us will recognise it as the only man-made structure visible from space (some even go as far as claiming it can be seen from the Moon!). David Copperfield's fans will remember his graceful passage through it. It is not just a wall. It is the GREAT WALL.
My knowledge of it was limited solely to the above when I got the idea of China Challenge . As it came closer, my mind was filled with a more and more romantic vision of a solitary randez-vous on the Dragon's back*.
When I finally got the Great Wall within reach, I pounced on it while scouting Beijing's surroundings. Shanhaiguan Wall turned out to be a renovated shred of time- worn eastern wall. The greyness of the clouded sky concealed it and only colorful T-shirts of the few tourists climbing giant stairs seemed to give it away. Above a modest temple veiled in incense smoke there was only a thin winding skeleton of the once great WALL . Observed by a few monks I tried to 'camouflage' my wild walk by frequent photo stops.
Such efforts weren't necessary on Huanyaguan Wall which , beside the touristically poor renovated part, quietly offered a longer encounter with its COARSE BACK barely visible through thick vegetation and foggy ridges.
Slightly discouraged by the adverse weather of northern summer I gave the Wall one more chance. Hoping for a bit more extreme experience I climbed the SIMATAI WALL. Before I could even get breathless a line of slanting-eyed hawkers created a shadow that was to follow me for the next few hours. The weather was almost perfect, however, so I could satiate my eyes with a picture-like image of the winding Great Wall. To my delight I managed to leave all human element behind when I reached GUBEIKOU WALL , where I spent the night in one of the watch towers in a discreete company of bats. The red sunset and the orange sunrise were for sure the highlights of my China trip.
Great Wall is a peculiar phenomenon. Silent and absent-like for centuries, it was just an insignificant element of the landscape, cut through by developing infrastructure, often providing free building material to local farmers. A few dacades ago Chinese propaganda started making up for the years of negligence by giving some of the Great Wall stretches an extreme makeover. Today it resembles Frankenstein - majestic and awe-inspiring yet somehow lacking authenticity by its patchwork character.

* My dragon association turned out surprisingly adequate - the place where the Great Wall plunges into the Yellow See was of a dragon's head shape - nowadays completely ruined, recognisible only by name - Dragon's Head

Chinese character

It is Chinese character - said RONG LI , and, as if wanting to prove it, a bag full of apples appeared with an encouraging nod urging me to take it. As if helping me to get out of a godforsaken place called Tangshan was not enough a proof for local generosity. For a seemingly easy task of travelling around provincial China sometimes turns out to be challenging even for the natives. Rong Li, whom I briefly met on the train, was extremely effective - after a dozen phonecalls, one wrong station and a taxi escort I got on the bus to Panjiakou and the driver was given instructions concerning the destination of my trip (Great Wall submerged in Panjiakou reservoir) along with all other personal information that I had revealed to Rong Li so far.
The bus was wobbling around on a dirt road with a skating elephant's grace while CI LU , who had been appointed my Guardian Angel by Rong Li, was entertaining me with some information on the local infrastructure. In fact, it was a conversation lead by his phone - on its screen appeared some of the most interesting English phrases I've ever seen so far generated by a mobile dictionary. Our Chinglish chat was regularly enriched by Ci Lu's wife, who had to be texted every single sentence either of us managed to produce, which resulted in a Chinese homemade dumplings feast. My chopstick skills were put to test by Ci Lu's mother - beaming with smiles she unloaded the fridge's contents onto the table and with an encouraging gesture pointed at less and less 'grippable' dishes. Unlike most of low-mid-range restaurant chopsticks that even rice sticks to, the home edition can be quite massive and horribly smooth which makes eating a real challenge. Thus I provided my hosts with a highly entertaining 'veg-drop in the soup' and 'peanut plate chase' performance.
Close encounters with the natives are unavoidable in China since a foreigner is still quite conspicuous and classifies as 'valuable goods'. Not always for his financial dimension though. Visiting less touristy places usually means great show for the whole local community. A symphony of delighted "HELLLLOOOOs" can be heard almost everywhere and you will always run into an English geek asking you "WHERE ARE YOU FROM?" with a cheerful "Lao Wai!" (foreigner!) in the background. Same applies to provincial hotels - staff members from manager to cleaner throng around the reception making it look as if there has just come a Polish-guided Chinese tour. I experienced such phenomenon in QING DONGLING (Eastern Ming Tombs) both in the MAO-style hotel lobby and the restaurant. Mass WAITRESS invasion got even to my room.
Privacy or personal space is a relative term in China, treated mostly as some kind of impoliteness rather than basic need. Thus I had to get used to "train snuggling", staring, communal Lonely Planet China guide reading (often having the book 'borrowed' to have a better look)and endless marital/child status enquiries.
I have come to accept the fact that in China it is not possible to melt into the crowd. A tourist will always be a tourist...

PS. Have a look at the GALERY
Great Wall experience coming soon.

TRAINing China

Travelling by train in China has some charm to it. First of all, there is the train station frenzy - I got my baptism of fire in Guanzhou (Canton). Buying a ticket is itself an enterprise that requires endless wandering around the hall that is similar in size to London Heathrow as well as determination and good elbow bump technique which would make it possible to push your way through to the only counter with an English sign above it. Needless to say, it does not mean you will be talking to an English speaking person, and more often than not, you get yourself into a lengthy negotiation using your pocket Mandarin dictionary. In the meantime, regardless of all above, there are locals who constantly push money through the hatch demanding tickets. When you eventually reach some kind of an understanding resulting in a pink card (on which only the train numer and departure time seem to be intelligible) there comes an even more exciting stage of the journey - the boarding. Chinese railway stations can fit in a population of an average European country and that in practice means a huge building crammed with countless masses laden with tonnes of luggage. Their numbers are never decreasing since once a crowd spills onto the platform, another is already storming through the waiting hall's door. Announcing the train is a signal for another elbow-punching round for the Chinese get on the train as if it was the last one ever to leave the station.
Travelling on the train is like a garden party during which private conversations spread around the whole carriage and the stewardess is paving her way screaming and clanking against her metal trolley on which there pile different delicacies. While you're there, you might as well do some exceptional shopping - vast choice is colourfully presented (in song, verse or a mini-show)goods - and buy a pair of heavy-duty socks, all kinds of toys and above all, a super plastic American commando crawling on the table giving "Fire!Fire!" commands (it has the most striking effect somewhere around 13th hour into your journey).
My Chinese railway adventure meant three days, three trains, two grey cities, lack of sleep and numb limbs. What initially filled me with resentment turned out to be an interesting experience. If I hadn't been given wrong information in Hond Kong about a direct train to Shanghai (which was fully booked for the whole week anyway) I wouldn't have visited a great Han Dynasty TOMB in Canton or climbed the seven-storey PAGODA. I wouldn't have peeped at a night badminton game on Shamian Island (Canton) or met four Chinese teenagers whom I promised to find Polish girlfriends and I would have never tried a genuine Chinese breakfast for only 10Yuan (1Euro - all made of rice) in Nanchang.
Thus, my China railway adventure is to be continued...