Simatai Great Wall

I'm currently preparing a series of retrospective posts about my first visit to China. I spent four days in Beijing while travelling to the UK for business in 1998. You can read about my first time in Tiananmen Square here, and my first tour of the Summer Palace here. This post covers my first visit to the Great Wall of China. It was the first of four I've enjoyed over the years.

Like everyone visiting China for the first time, I was keen to see the Great Wall of China. However, I also wanted to experience more of the real China. As a result, while briefing my hotel's tour desk, I asked to see a section of the wall most tourists never visit. The desk manager took heed of my brief and organized a day trip with a private guide and driver to Simatai.

The Simatai Great Wall is located 120 km northeast of Beijing. It takes a couple of hours to reach it by car offering a section of wall that's 5.4 km long, punctuated by 35 beacon towers. At the time of my visit, some parts were fully restored, while others remained in disrepair. Since then, if tourism websites are to be believed very little has changed.

The wall is separated by a valley into eastern and western sections. The eastern section is the more dramatic of the two. It ascends steeply from the valley floor, about 200 metres above sea level, and traces the ridge line of increasingly rugged terrain that rapidly morphs into dramatic cliffs and 1000-metre-high peaks.

I spent my time exploring the eastern section as the western section is closed to tourists. An open-air cable car ascends from the valley car park to a restored mid-section of the wall. From here you can either walk down towards the valley on a partially restored wall or climb more ramshackle sections that eventually straddle a steep granite cliff face. I decided to climb the entire downhill stretch starting on the valley floor and ascending to the restored section, before retracing my steps back to the cable car.

The return hike took several hours, far longer than I’d anticipated. I also forgot to factor in a leisurely return journey on the cable car. As a result, by the time I'd returned to my guide and driver, I was more than an hour late. My guide was beside herself. She thought I’d experienced some sort of misfortune and was beginning to panic. The return journey to Beijing was rather uncomfortable as she continually reminded me how she’d never had a guest run so late.

Simatai was magic. The landscape is truly stunning, while the combination of restored and ramshackle walls feels more authentic than other sections I’ve subsequently explored. The hillside’s steep rise also meant that even the restored wall was often narrower than other popular tourist sections, and thus felt even more dramatic.

The wall is so steep in parts that it narrows into an endless series of stairs barely wide enough for one person to pass, while other sections were broad and gentle enough for ancient soldiers to traverse it on horseback. Its varying construction also means you can experience ramparts extending from both sides of the wall, as well as slimmer alternatives that only extend outwards to the once hostile north.

If you've enjoyed this post, you can relive my day trips to the Great Wall at Mutianyu, first with Garry in 2003, and then again with my parents in 2012. I also visited the Great Wall in the dead of winter at Badaling in January 2003. Without a doubt, walking the wall in falling snow was truly memorable!

China in the 90s

I visited China for the first time in 1998. I spent four days in Beijing en route to a global training event for Text 100, a burgeoning public relations consultancy I’d joined earlier in the year. The timing of my visit proved incredibly fortuitous. At the time, China was undergoing a period of rapid and transformative development. As a result, I saw unique aspects of daily life that were long gone when I returned in January 2003.

Decades later, my strongest memories are those of the city's dated and slightly shabby infrastructure. The ambience they generated reminded me of my travels through Eastern Europe in 1990. At the time, the Berlin Wall had recently fallen, and the Iron Curtain was gone.  However, the austere socialist architecture and infrastructure with its distinct 60s vibe were everywhere. Beijing was exactly the same. It was as if I'd travelled back in time to a world my parents had lived in at my age.

Perhaps the most dramatic contrast was the urban traffic I encountered. I vividly recall standing at the intersection of Zhengyi Road and Qianmen East Street, one block east of Tiananmen Square, on my first day in town. The intersection is one of central Beijing’s busiest crossroads as Zhengyi Road is a major north-south thoroughfare, while Qianmen Street is a major east-west boulevard.

As I stood waiting for the lights to change, I witnessed a sea of bicycles waiting patiently at the intersection, while another swarm of bikes passed through the multi-lane intersection. Incredibly, only a relatively light flow of motor vehicles was visible in either direction. Large, austere buses passed continuously, looking like they'd just been pulled from a grainy mid-Century newsreel.

All around the city, I saw bike racks overflowing with dozens and dozens of bikes. I’ve never seen so many bikes and cyclists in one location in my entire life. Incredibly, four short years later, when I revisited the same intersection, the bikes were gone, replaced by a sea of cars in either direction. Decades later, I still marvel at this extraordinary transformation in a few short years.

I flew into Beijing on 31 July 1998 on QF187. I then spent three days exploring the city before flying to London with British Airways on the morning of 4 August. My travel agent booked me into the Capital Hotel, located one block east of Tiananmen Square. This four-star hotel opened in 1989. At the time, it was one of Beijing's earliest premier hotels offering world-class facilities for foreign visitors. For my visit, its central location proved ideal for exploring many of the inner city’s iconic sights.

I packed a lot into my 3.5 days on the ground. I spent an hour with the hotel tour desk on my first morning, booking guided tours before venturing out on a self-guided tour of Tiananmen Square and popular sites around the inner city. I kicked things off with a subway ride to Yonghe Temple, also known as the Lama Temple, Beijing's largest Buddhist Temple.

I was keen to compare this temple with those I’d enjoyed in Japan five months earlier. It didn’t disappoint. It’s an impressive, ornate complex, but inevitably lacks some of Japan’s immaculate cleanliness and finesse. I later learned it was built in 1694, as part of the original city wall for Emperor Yongzheng, before he acceded to the throne in 1722.

I then returned to Tiananmen Square for a guided tour of the Great Hall of the People and a visit to the Mausoleum of Mao Zedong. To get there, I hired a pedicab driver who'd been waiting patiently for a fare outside my hotel. I was duly transported two blocks to the square for less than three Australian dollars.

Tiananmen Square is enormous. It measures more than 765 metres long by 282 metres wide. It’s honestly hard to grasp just how vast it really is. The square’s southern flank is marked by Zhengyangmen, a restored gateway that once formed part of a long-gone inner-city wall. The northern perimeter is dominated by the iconic Tiananmen Square gate, renowned worldwide for its giant portrait of Chairman Mao.

I was keen to see Mao’s preserved body lying in state inside the Mausoleum, an imposing building in the middle of the square’s southern end. However, I discovered that the Memorial Hall containing Mao's crystal coffin was closed. I consoled myself with a visit to the North Great Hall, an outer sanctum traditionally used by visiting dignitaries to pay their respects to the late Chairman.

The hall is dominated by a 3.5-metre-high white marble statue of Mao surrounded by potted palms. On the opposing wall, an intricate silk tapestry called "The Vast Homeland" extends almost 24 metres along the hall. You’re not permitted to take photos inside. However, for a small fee, an official photographer will take a Polaroid snap to preserve your visit for posterity. Naturally, I couldn’t resist getting my own official photo. Incredibly, 26 years later, this photo is as sharp and clear as ever.

Tiananmen Square’s northern zone is flanked on either side by imposing civic buildings, including the collonaded Great Hall of the People. The open plaza is also a popular gathering place for locals. During my visit, at the height of Summer, vendors were selling colourful eagle kites that children took great delight in flying overhead. 

The open plaza also features several national icons, including the Monument to the People's Heroes, an austere white obelisk, and an honour guard standing vigil below a flagpole. A short ceremony sets the flag each morning, followed by a second ceremony to remove it in the evening. 

While I was there, I was lucky enough to witness a spectacular changing of the guard. An entire platoon of soldiers marched down Chang'an Street and entered the massive square. A sergeant-at-arms then shouted commands as individual flag guards swapped their posts. 

The Great Hall was astonishing. It contains three main zones, including The Great Hall, China's largest auditorium, plus a banquet hall and various plenary meeting rooms. The Great Hall lives up to its name, seating up to 10,000 people. This includes 3,693 seats on the lower floor, 3,515 on the balcony, 2,518 in the gallery and up to 500 on the elevated front dais. The ceiling with a distinctive backlit red star motif is equally impressive. The hall is honestly more akin to a mini-stadium.  

I took a tour of the building that included the hall, the State Banquet Hall with enough space to entertain 7,000 guests, and some of its more intimate provincial meeting rooms. Every administrative province in China has its own room. Each is decorated with a mural depicting an iconic local scene. The image above was taken in the Shanghai Hall with a mural depicting the Bund waterfront at night. However, the mural was updated with a view of the ultra-modern Pudong skyline a few months after my visit.

I completed my first visit to the Chinese capital with a walk through the hutong streets south of Zhengyangmen, and a ride on the subway to the Central Radio & TV Tower. However, I am trying to remember if I ventured up the tower. I suspect this happened on a subsequent business trip to China, as I remember visiting it at some point.

I count myself lucky to have seen China in the early years of its economic transformation.  The classic hallmarks of a socialist, centrally planned economy were still in place and very much visible. The Beijing I saw in 1998 was a time capsule of sorts, with architecture and infrastructure harking back to the 1960s and 1970s. Within a few short years, the urban landscape in Beijing (and elsewhere in China)  dramatically changed. The old world was gone.

Farewell Mum

We bid farewell to my mother at a wonderful memorial service on Wednesday afternoon. Organising the event was a collaborative effort by my brothers and me, along with support and assistance from their families. We hosted approximately 60 people at the Tauranga Yacht & Power Boat Club, in a ceremony lasting an hour or so.

Mum loved living at Mount Maunganui. She always cherished the harbour and its views of majestic Mauao. As a result, my brothers and I searched long and hard for a venue with an appropriate view. We were delighted when we stumbled across the TYPC at the far end of the Sulphur Point Marina. The venue’s main function room offered an uninterrupted panoramic view of Tauranga Harbour and the Mount framed by large picture windows.

The weather also played its part. A week out from the event, the forecast had predicted dire weather. However, the actual day dawned with cloudless blue skies and sunshine. As we drove up to the venue, the entire harbour was literally shimmering in the sunlight. We couldn’t have been happier. 

We used the same celebrant, Carol Rickard, who’d officiated at Dad’s funeral a decade earlier. I delivered Mum’s eulogy, while my brothers each offered their own tributes. Auntie Pam delivered a tribute on behalf of her siblings. We then finished with tributes from three of Mum’s four grandchildren. The grandchildren’s tributes were impressive. As they shared, I learned much about what their Nana meant to each of them.

In memory of my mother, Garry and I each wore one of Mum's costume jewellery brooches. We also wore new suits we’d bought in the post-Christmas sales last December in anticipation of just this kind of event. Hamish wore one of Mum's scarves. As the service drew to a close he decided us three boys should have a final photo with our Mum. As I stepped forward to collect Mum’s ashes, we paused for a selfie, much to the surprise and amusement of guests directly behind us.

The following morning, under overcast skies, the immediate family was joined by Auntie Pam, and my cousins, Carolyn and Jenny, for the interment of my mother’s ashes. Mum was interred next to Dad in a twin plot she’d bought after he died. The sun made a welcome appearance as we finished our private ceremony. It was the perfect end to ten emotional days.

How differently things could have turned out. I flew into the Mount late afternoon on Saturday 1 June. Hamish collected me from the airport. We drove straight to Bethlehem Views to see Mum. It was immediately clear how gravely ill she was.  

I returned to see her the following morning and spent several hours at her bedside. I visited again that afternoon. The family then went to dinner for a final gathering before beginning a bedside vigil the following morning. However, Mum died unexpectedly overnight. The speed at which it happened caught us all by surprise.

It was hard to conceive that barely 36 hours after landing, my mother was gone. Since then, more than one person has suggested she was waiting for me before passing. Ironically, this final chapter reflects my mother through and through. Once her mind was made up, she'd put her shoulder to the wheel and make it happen. There was no mucking about.

Your legacy lives in me

Beverly, my darling mother, passed away in her sleep this morning. She was, and always will be, one of the most intelligent, independent and innately beautiful women I’ve ever had the privilege to know.

For almost six decades, her tenacious spirit has relentlessly inspired, coaxed and moulded me into the man I am today. I am, and always will be, my mother’s son. She loved us all. Drove us bonkers. Made us laugh and constantly challenged us to aim ever higher.

Dementia stole so much from her in recent years. My brothers, our partners, and I wept all too often as this cruel and insidious disease took its toll. However, in death, our love and our eternal memories will endure. Dearest Bev, I am your legacy, you are my muse. Rest in peace, now and forever more.