Walking the Wall

Our Wall Angels for Shanxi are a mixed bunch. Because we spent so much time on the wall and Brendan’s foot has pretty much recovered, we only have one driver; the other two are people we encountered along the way during times of hiking. These Wall Angels are selected because they made our day special, but they are by no means the only friendly encounters we had – on the whole our experience of people in Shanxi was extremely positive.

We were further away from towns and more independent of drivers in Shanxi than we had been while Brendan was rehabbing, but we still relied on people for water. Though we could go days without walking through a village with a shop and often boiled snow for water, we also relied on farmers and shepherds at times when there wasn’t any snow. This might explain why our experiences of people was so positive – small villages are always a lot more pleasant than roads or large towns.

The Jing Chang of Shiqigou, Inner Mongolia

Before we started this trip, we had been warned time and again to avoid the police. So many times, in fact, that whenever we see a police car coming our way we automatically lower our eyes and try to make our backpacks blend into the scenery. Well, that’s not going to happen, but as it turns out our fears seem to have been unfounded – the police really haven’t given us much trouble. Boring, I know, but that’s how it is.

When we met the Jing Chang (police) of Shiqigou, we had been out on the wall for a week or so and had been melting a lot of snow for water; as a result, we were almost out of fuel for our stove. We still had a few days of traveling ahead of us, so when the wall crossed a highway bordering Shanxi and Inner Mongolia we thought we should try to pick up some fuel. According to the locals, the closest petrol station was down the road about six kilometres. But don’t worry, they said, there’s a bus at 2 o’clock.

Your friendly neighbourhood police

While walking 3600 kilometres might seem a bizarre thing to do, we do draw the line at a 12-kilometre detour just to get petrol. And waiting three hours for the once-a-day bus isn’t usually on our schedule. So with sunken shoulders we dejectedly made our way back to the wall, the thought of cold dinners and no hot cup of tea at the end of a long day of hiking weighing us down.

When we walked past the police check-point on the highway we had a thought. In the past the police have given us rides, let’s see if they’ll do it again today, even if it is to buy petrol in a little throwable container. When Brendan explained to them that we have a small stove and need petrol to boil water, it didn’t take long for the youngest police officer to usher him into the officers’ van and speed off for town, leaving me sipping tea with the remaining one. After the quick round-trip we thanked them profusely, but they waved us away, saying in Chinese: “We’re the police, we’re here to help.”

Guo Yung

When you’re called up late at night and asked to pick up two hikers from a small village you’ve never heard of that is two hours’ drive away, and you agree, you qualify for Wall Angel status. That is how Mr Guo made it on to this list.

We had met him on a previous visit to Datong and employed him as our driver while we were sightseeing and for our return trip from Datong back to the wall. We had reached the end of a hiking week (most Wall Angel stories start this way, don’t they?) and thought we would be ending up in a township town. These towns are usually large enough to have a few snack shops and a simple place to stay. This town did have a few snack shops, but as for places to stay – well, unless we were willing to share the kang with an old man and his TB cough, there weren’t any other options.

Guo Yung dropping us off at the wall

So at 7 pm we called Mr Guo and asked if he had the time to drive from Datong to pick us up and take us back for a nice day off. He didn’t know where the town was, but he had the time. It took him two hours and a few stops to ask for directions, but at 9 pm he found us eating dumplings in a little mahjong room and hastily pushed us into his car. Definitely Wall Angel status.

Cheng Yu Tie

We never expected Easter Sunday to be much of a holiday here in China. Until we met Mr Cheng. While most of you were pigging out on chocolate Easter eggs and hot cross buns, Mr Cheng was busy doing something every bit as important – turning 74.

We had spent the morning hauling our bags up a 1500-foot climb, following the wall as it jumped over the mountain range from one river valley to another. Easter, like birthdays, Christmas and Valentine’s Day, was just another hiking day, except for the visions of our families and friends back home having picnics that occasionally popped into our heads and made us homesick.

But when we descended into the next river valley (not the last one, we were upset to see) we needed to stock up on water, so we sought out the nearest shop, which also happened to be the site of Mr Cheng’s birthday party. There were 20 family members, two tables of food, and after a lot of to-ing and fro-ing, us. We tried to beg off joining in such a special occasion, but not taking no for an answer, his daughter sat us down at one of the tables, pushed chopsticks into our hands and told us to eat.

Grandpa Cheng is the one wearing the birthday hat

We spent the next hour making our way through home-style vegetables, sticky rice buns, noodles and fish - and that’s not even including Mr Cheng’s huge birthday cake with a singing candle flower in the middle. The cake wasn’t completely consumed like it is at most Western parties (flour cakes seem to be a pretty new thing around here), but the icing, like at most parties, was put to good use. What’s a 74-year-old’s birthday party without a cake fight?

Grandson Cheng Sheng can cake-fight and text at the same time