And Then it Snowed ...

We needed to get out of the city. To replenish our tired lungs with fresh mountain air. To see the blue skies. To confirm that they still existed and to give Brett the opportunity to walk on The Great Wall of China. We also wanted to stay in a local village with all the curious experiences it would no doubt offer. Sleeping on a traditional 'Kang' – a huge cement slab under which a fire is made – had been a heavenly encounter a few weeks earlier. I needed to repeat this marvel. One of the pleasures of winter spent in China.

On a chilly Friday evening, we headed to Heilongguan subway station where we were met by Mr. Chen – one of the many Mr. Chens in China. A farmer at heart, he was also the very proud owner of a traditional guesthouse beside the Great Wall. He welcomed us warmly with a few grunts, the nodding of his head and the biggest smile. Ushering us to the chosen vehicle with wild gesturing and more grunts. My heart sank as we moved towards the waiting car.

Years ago, back in 1997, when we first arrived in Beijing, the 'Miandi' car was the official taxi. Driving in this mode of transport was a terrifying experience to say the least. Their insignificant tyres having no grip, and the taller, seemingly top-heavy body, resulted in an extremely unstable vehicle. Screeching around corners, and causing one not to breathe until guaranteed back in upright position. Many journeys in 'Miandis' had us holding on for dear life as the seat on which we sat, had a tendency to move to the back of the van. No bolts in sight. Just a simple seat floating around in the back of a fast-moving, unpredictable monster. A nightmare. These horrible little bread-bin look-alikes were later banned due to their habit of toppling over when negotiating corners. I swore that I would never ever find myself in one again. That was, until Mr. Chen arrived in his 'Miandi'. The only transport available that evening.

With a prayer and growing trepidation, the family plus Themba, Debbie’s dog, climbed into the contraption. We headed off along the  Badeling Expressway in a north-easterly direction. Tightly snuggled in, our nervous chatter made a feeble attempt to diminish our anxiety. Endless trucks and our 'Miandi' climbed higher and higher along the hairpin bends. Deeper into the mammoth mountains which are home to parts of The Great Wall of China.

After a prolonged hour, we left the highway and followed the narrow road feeding the many villages along the way. My emotions shifted from fear of the hidden dangers on slippery roads to the familiar, warm feeling of being in a place to which you have never travelled. A place that you somehow already know well. A place which stirs recognition and a sense of belonging. 

We arrived at the charming guesthouse at about 8:30pm to a clean, spacious and warm room. The local-style loo for only two nights would be bearable we thought. It didn’t appear to be that menacing. A furnace stood beside the loo. Little did we know the true value of the heat it gently emitted. Those dreadful solid Chinese duvets lay heavily on the 'Kangs'. The pillows were hardcore. Literally. Filled to capacity with sunflower seeds. They created such a racket each time someone turned over. 

The piping hot dinner filled our bellies as did the deep red wine we had thankfully brought along. We climbed onto our 'Kang' exhausted, but grateful for the warmth that seeped into our weary bodies. The silence of the night lifted us into her embrace. The stars were incredible. As was the unpolluted, cold air.

To be continued …