Tuesday, May 6, 2008
The Great Wall, Mutianu
Passing through the first guardhouse going west, we find the interior walls white washed, then covered with graffiti in every conceivable language. Not bad stuff. Not even marginal stuff. It’s names—the signatures of those who came before us.
With a big smile on her face, Holly whips out a green pen. I whip out a black pen.
And we become part of the Wall’s history.
(Beats the heck out of that time I nearly got kicked out of the original Hard Rock in London for signing a wall there.)
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
The Great Wall, Mutianu
You know in your head what to expect.
And you’re wrong.
After disembarking from the cable car, then following more steps, then climbing a ladder-like section, we surfaced on top of The Great Wall of China. I stood up. Turned west. Took one look at a centuries old image made of ancient stones, snaking its way across the mountain ridges in front of me.
Yup. Tears. Quiet little is-this-really-happening-to-me tears overflowing eyes brimming with joy.
Trust me. You don’t know. Not until you get there.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
The Great Wall, Mutianu
After an hour and a half drive through the countryside on twisting two lane roads (at lickety-split speed), we arrived at the foot of Mutianu, the section of the Wall I wanted to see. Unlike the closer and more frequented Badaling section, this one’s a lot quieter with far fewer tourists to clamor over.
You start the process by climbing steep (and I do mean steep) steps and ramps though fruit stands and souvenir stalls to get to the cable cars that take you the rest of the way. Admittedly, we had to stop a couple of times during our climb, just to breathe. One poor couple ahead of us simply halted half way up, with her unable to scale another step. It’s a workout.
So, we make it to the cable car building, find ourselves alone on the platform (like I said, not nearly as populated as Badaling), are shown to a car, hop in…and start giggling.
There, on the glass directly ahead of us, are the words:
“President William J. Clinton took this car down the Great Wall on June 28th, 1998”
Cool beans, baby. Cool beans.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Beijing
After Holly and the driver picked me up (she was able to book a car and driver for eight hours, unlimited miles, for only 500 RMB—$72.04 US), we headed to Sunny’s place for my fitting. Wasn’t originally planned, but if he’s willing to get six blouses done and delivered to the hotel in 24 hours, the least I can do is show up for the fitting first thing in the morning.
He’s amazing. The unfinished blouse fits like a dream already. By the time my head hits the pillow tonight, they’ll be in my suitcase, delivered to the hotel across town for free.
Definitely one of my best finds in Beijing. Definitely.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Beijing
This is it. The big day. The big four-eight.
The big ankle.
And the big adventure that nothing—nothing—is going to stop in its tracks. After all, today’s the day I fulfill a dream.
Today’s the day I stand on the Great Wall.
Woke up before sunrise. Made coffee. Snuggled up in the oversized chair next to the windows to watch the sky light up. Watched locals doing tai chi below. Opened my birthday cards from the folks. Got choked up. And realized there’s no one luckier than me at this very moment.
God blessed me, big time, and that’s the best gift of all.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Beijing
Decided not to submerge my ankle in the hot bath water, in case that’s why my skin felt like it could peel off last night.
Nonetheless, it’s deeper red, verging on purplish. And it’s bigger. Lots bigger. As in “no way my Timberlands are going to fit on my feet tomorrow” bigger.
I have two options. Go to the International Hospital where there are English speaking doctors, trust in whatever pharmaceuticals are available in China, and probably be told to stay off my feet the remainder of the trip.
Like that’s gonna happen.
Or go with Door Number Two. Ride this out.
Admittedly, the second option isn’t smart, but my head and heart are in a tug of war between being cautious and fulfilling my dream of seeing the Great Wall tomorrow.
My heart won. Let’s hope my ankle won’t lose.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Beijing
Tonight’s bath ritual: India
Bergamot, nutmeg, cedar wood, black pepper
I am really getting used to this.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Beijing
Everyone told me to have custom clothes made while in China—even my grandmother, who brought home beautiful suits from her trip to Hong Kong and Japan.
Found a guy’s name in a travel guide. Found a taxi near the Pearl Market. Found the right biulding in the right district.
Found a miracle worker.
Here’s how you find him:
1. Take a taxi to the Yashow Market at 58 Gongti Bei Lu in the Chaoyang District.
2. From the front entrance, walk straight ahead; take the escalator up to the third floor.
3. Turn right at the top of the escalator; walk to the end of the aisle to stall 3066 (they’re well marked).
4. Ask for Sunny. He’s a young guy with near fluent English (amazing, since he’s self taught, using reruns of American television shows like “Friends” for fine tuning).
5. Describe what you want made. Look at his fabrics. He’ll measure you, negotiate the price, then let you know when to return for a fitting.
I really wanted matte finished silk for the blouses Sunny would sew, but his silks had the traditional sheen to them. Based on my description of preferred style, he told me how much silk to ask for, then let me go source that out elsewhere:
1. From Sunny’s stall, head back toward the escalator.
2. At the top of the escalator is a large silk shop. That’s your place.
Negotiate hard on this one. They’ll dig their heels in, but that’s part of the dance. They’ll offer a number on a calculator, which you refuse, you type in your counter offer, then they do, then you do, and so on.
You should negotiate with Sunny too, but not as hard if you buy your silk elsewhere.
Can’t wait until my fitting tomorrow morning…..
(Photo credit: farm1)
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
