I remember a picture in an old book of History. The Great Wall of China was shown and beguiled me as all these generations who dreamt of it listening to the stories we related. The luckiest saw it and kept alive dream and mistery recalling fragments of their logbook.
Before all, the Great Wall of China is a pharaonic project. The snake of stone runs over 5000km on steep mountains and had to protect China from the mongolian invaders. The History will show it won't be useful.
From Beijing (Chengde for us) there are several ways to get to the Great Wall, Badaling and Mutianyu places are the nearest ones but the busiest as well. The Wall was completely restored and some people don't like the Disneyland side of these spots. We opted for the place of Jinshaling. You can reach the Wall by cable car or on foot.
We step on a small path, crossing corn fields before going uphill. For the insensitive minds of the stony remains, it's only a wall splitting two territories but the geographical complexity gives an impression of life to the Wall. It leaps from a mountain to another one, crawls and vanishes beyond the horizon. Our pace is loud on the snake's backbone, the sensation is thriling and eyes-captivating. The hike alternates climbing stairs and steep ways down. The stops are unending, our eyes are hypnotised by the main line of the Great Wall. They feed on its undulations and attempt to guess its progression while it plunges behind a hill and gushes on the next one. Each watchtower offers an observation post to enjoy what happens forward.
The impressive beauty of the Great Wall of China was rewarded being chosen as one of the new 7 wonders. The other ones are : the Colyseum in Roma, the Taj Mahal in Agra, the Machu Picchu near Cuzco, Chichen Itza in the Yucatan, the nabathean city of Petra, and the Chris-the-Redeemer statue in Rio de Janeiro.
30 watchtowers mark out the up and down ways between Jinshaling and Simatai. This part of the Great Wall allows you to start from a place and to end in the other one, 4 hours later. We avoid a return trip on the Wall (although there's nothing unpleasant for that). A dream day gliding on a capricious nature tamed by the madness of the man. A day groping our way around the empire of the angels.
Keyword - trekking -
Saturday 28 July 2007
Escapade on the Great Wall
By dorian on Saturday 28 July 2007, 00:38 - RTW-China
Saturday 14 July 2007
adventures in the Mongolian nature (part 3)
By dorian on Saturday 14 July 2007, 11:23 - RTW-Mongolia
if you want to read the beginning of the story, click here for Part 1 or here for Part 2 ...
At the beginning of my 6th trekking day, my pace gets slower and my blisters hurt me. At the end of the morning, a young Mongolian who brags astride his horse tackles me while I drag my painful feet. He will be the only real trouble throughout this expedition. He puts his horse in front of me and prevents me from going forward, he tries to open my bag and seizes the rope I hold my horse with. The situation starts to aggravate until we reach a herd of goats watched by one of his brother. I make him laugh and he enjoys looking at me, embarrassed. I finally offer him to walk back and to have a drink in his ger. When we arrive, his behaviour changes completely. His family and above all his father are kind and happy to share a bit of their time with a foreigner.
The situation has calmed down when I start again. Despite everything, I'm in a hurry to move away to forget this episode. But before climbing the hill which faces me, I hear the young braggart arriving at a gallop followed by another one of his brothers. This time, he wants to buy my horse. His calmer, elder brother understands I won't sell my horse and calm down his younger brother. At last, I leave the place and walk for a long time to camp as far as possible.
The next day, in the morning as I go on the side of the mountain, the spectre of the day before comes back when I see two young horsemen approaching. But, both of them have the kindness that characterizes the famous Mongolian hospitality.
I suffer and it's a pleasure to stop at the neighbouring house. In exchange for the usual photos, the family invites me for the lunch and for a rest.
I'll finally stay up to the next day in the morning. We watch together the wrestling final of the Naadam festival broadcasted on television. It's perhaps the main sport event of the year in Mongolia. In spite of the distance, every ger or house possesses an enormous satellite dish which lays down on the ground. The electricity is supplied by batteries which ones are loaded by a solar panel, a windmill or a generator. The anachronism of the solar panel laid down on the white cloth of the ger is fabulous. I give my fishing pole I haven't used yet. We improvise a fishing course in the middle of the steppes. Every member of the family I hardly know for a few hours adopted me and takes care of me as if I belong to the family.
Early in the morning, after warmly thanking them for their hospitality, I pack up my stuffs and start walking along the river.
The path is harder and harder and the rain complicates my progress, I've sometimes no other choice than walking into the river. The horse slips on the stones of the river bank. That's here, close to a green, hard-to-reach field, I take off its tie and drop the rope. I free my companion. I wish it delights a few days of freedom before he's probably captured. I disappear in the land of stones that erects in front of the river. The walk is rough in this unexplored, footprintless area.
After several hours, I begin to go down on the other slope of the hill. I reach a Ider Gol tributary where I sit down, exhausted. A few Mongolians tackle me and looking at my state of tiredom, invite me at their house. The atmosphear is warm and relaxed. It's here I decide to finish my trek.
I show all the different gears I carry in my backpack in front of the admiring eyes of about ten Mongolians. I feel well here, they cook an excellent dish for me and I prepare one of my freeze-dried meal with the boiled water coming from the camping stove. 2 of them share a "rice and fish in a provencal sauce" and they find it savoury.
The next day in the morning, I go to Tomorbulag by motorbike. Then, I take a jeep that drops me off in Möron. Did you know we could be 15 in a jeep?
In spite of the physical difficulty, the undernourishment and the loneliness, this adventure will have shown me virtues such as the mutual support, the hospitality and the pleasure of sharing are essential not to say vital. Communication problems ang cultural differences didn't scratch the happiness I lived with these families of the steppes. My heart will keep these smiles and this joie de vivre for a long long time.
Tuesday 10 July 2007
adventures in the Mongolian nature (part 2)
By dorian on Tuesday 10 July 2007, 11:20 - RTW-Mongolia
if you want to read the beginning of the story, click here for Part 1 ...
I dismantle the tent, I pack up my bag, I untie Minimor (That's the name I gave to my horse) and I start walking towards an unknown land formed by huge spaces and where the man doesn't have a hold over it. I climb the mound on my left and compare the relief with the drawn one on my map. My only need will be to find water for the next days. I walk down the hill and head for the north. The green moor invites to walk and gives my horse an appetite. The ground is flat, immense, sometimes shapes by a stream whose waters run to the lake. A stream forces me to take my shoes off and a nice Mongolian helps me to cross it.
Behind the hill that thwarts the flat nature of the place, the steppe plunges into the horizon for about ten kilometers. A lot of animals graze. Every family possesses herds of sheep, goats, yaks and horses which wander freely on these pastures. The green carpet which unrolls under my feet seems endless and each of my step breaks the serenity of innumerable grasshoppers.
On my left, a stream splits the meadow and will be my water supplier for the next two days. It's only at the end of the day the steppe dies on the foothill. This wood-topped hill will shelter me for the night.
Then, the course goes uphill following a gentle slope, before going down to the valley. I walk along the bush-flanked stream in this rougher scenario thant the day before. At the bottom of the valley, the ground is half-marshy, bikers and 4x4 cars encourage me and stay puzzled about the roles of each one in our duet. The horse seems relaxed when I'm weighed down with the bag. I see children who ride their horses with a stunning ease. As their motorized kind, they are intrigued by our strange duet.
The river shapes gorgeous landscapes which would make the happiness of several campsites.
I opt for a small clearing on the right bank. The slide of the water invigorates me. Before the nightfall, a bunch of friends stop on the other bank and invite me to share a bottle of vodka. One of them is a wrestler and will compete in the Naadam festival, the next 11th and 12th of july. These two days will be the national holiday.
He kindly threatens me to throw me into the river if I don't down the vodka in one gulp. I soak the lips and grimace. In front of my face, his girlfriend grabs the bottle and knocks back a glassful of vodka. When the bottle is empty, the cheerful team mounts the motos and disappears in the darkness.
The third day, I cross the village of Jagarlant which is the beginning of my walk alongside the main Ider Gol river. I make the mistake to cross the river without taking off my shoes and walk on for several hours with the wet feet. Nothing worst to have blisters. As soon as I stop, I delight in looking at the horse greedily grazing the thick grass we walk on. In the evening, each one has his meal, green grass for the quadruped and freeze-dried food for me.
From the fourth day, the hills which mark out the river become more and more lifeless and monotonous, two only green strips frame the river twists.
A little bit tired and thinking I better know my horse, I try to sit astride it with my bag on the shoulders. It just doesn't want and escapes. A Mongolian horseman brings it back to me and I reach the conclusion that this horse won't be another thing than a companion for the rest of the trek, what is still a marvellous experience. In the evening, I stop in a Mongolian ger for the first time. In exchange for their hospitality composed of salted tea and very hard goat cheese, I take photos. Some people don their most beautiful clothes for the ceremony.
Just before the nightfall, I start walking again, declining their offer to stay here for the night, I say the way is still long as an excuse. Before setting up the tent, a moto stops and despite the difficulty to communicate, one of the biker explains to me he remembers me. He saw me a few days before wandering about the lake with my horse and my heavy backpack. Hard to pass unnoticed!
My trek carries on alongside the river. I make my mind to leave the saddle behind a rock and start again my slow pace eastwards. Where I put up the tent, takhis (Przewalski horses) drink. I broke the calmness and they disappear behind the mound looking for a more peaceful place.
click here to read Part 3 ...
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