Five of us met at 21:00 at Dongzhimen subway station on Friday evening. Me and Caroline, Carol, Patrick and Sunnia all fellow lecturers from my university.
Fortunately for me and Caroline they all also speak Mandarin at levels we can only hope for in the future. We took a night train from Beijing Station to Shenyang North Station, arriving around 07:30 where we changed to a train to Dandong.
On the train journey to Dandong from Shenyang we had seat tickets as it was only a four hour journey and during the day. When you have seat tickets, at least on this train, that simply means four people sit together on the bottom of three bunks. We were packed in with three Chinese women who I’d guess were in their thirties or forties. Over the course of the journey Patrick and Sunnia were talking with the three women and the train guard, another woman about the same age. It was a good example of much you can interact with people when you can speak the same language. Everyone was very interested in us, where we were from, what we are doing in China and how much money we are paid. It was simple curiosity rather than any kind of jealousy or resentment, although we obviously weren’t comfortable talking about money, especially if we seemed extremely well paid compared to people living outside Beijing.
We arrived in Dandong at around 13:00 and were all pretty tired, we had spent the evening on the train snacking, drinking and generally carousing to the chagrin of our fellow passengers who only wanted a normal night sleep - it was a bit too exciting for us though. As soon as we arrived in Dandong we could see the strong Korean influence, not least in the prevalence of the Korean characters on nearly every shop and street sign. These are distinguishable from Chinese characters as they use a lot of circles which are not present in Chinese script. We took a right outside the station, manfully avoiding the various hawkers and 10%ers trying to set us up with a hotel room. With the use of the trusty Lonely Planet and a few roadside maps we wandered up Connecting Road No.6 to find the Yalu river and the border with the Democratic People's Republic of Korea.
From the river bank, after some obligatory photographs including an incredibly blue sky, we set off to check out one of the guidebook recommended hotels. A quick look at the available rooms in the Oriental Cherry and we were happy to check in for around €23 for a very nice double room with a view of North Korea. After the obligatory difficulties with Caroline’s Laissez-Passer (EU diplomatic passport) we left the hotel to find some lunch. As is often the way when confronted with new and cheap food we went a little crazy and ordered quite a lot. Seafood was popular since it was a coastal town and the octopus and scallops were fresh and good.
Next we wandered the streets getting a bit of a feel for the town. I say town as it only had the piffling population of 700 000. Strangely that seems small now after spending time in Beijing. As well as the writing, the Korean influence in the town was quite clear in the shops and we spent an enjoyable 20 minutes pottering about in a mini-mart gathering up exotic alcoholic drinks and snacks. We then managed to wander into a surprising sight: Tesco. I was quite keen on a look inside for comparison purposes, but we never quite made it. After a brief discussion with an American woman living in Dandong, we decided that a visit to the Eastern-most point of the Great Wall was probably best left for the following morning. Instead we meandered back towards the harbour to take the short boat journey near to the banks of North Korea. This may sound like strange tourist activity, but the mystery that the country is shrouded in makes it quite a compelling thing to do and an enjoyable forty minutes was spent peering at the unlit banks spotting exotic activities like group exercise and bike-riding, the kind of activities you just don’t see in China…
The Korean side of the river really did look quite forlorn with a sad-looking collection of cranes and rusting barges. The never-working Ferris wheel only added to the atmosphere. As the sun went down and the neon began to light up the Chinese skyscrapers, the different trajectories of two ‘socialist’ countries was described in sharp relief. Back on dry land we cheered up by buying some tourist tat and warmed up by visiting Peter’s coffee shop. A French Canadian place currently operated by the eponymous 16 year old boy and an American and Norwegian friend of the family. Like many things China does its’ “opening up” in a big way and is attracting people from all over the world, even to its’ smaller, less obvious destinations. We relaxed with some caffeinated drinks and sent some emails using the free Wi-Fi, a couple of games of Sorry and Connect-4 added to the holiday atmosphere.
After checking with Peter and a waiter we head off in search of some entertainment for the evening. Since lunch had been so substantial we were more interested in a few drinks than anything to eat. On the walk, we saw some evening activity down by the river:
We spent the evening in a classy little river-front joint called the July Bar. Kiwi drinks proved very popular, especially with a little Korean Soju added. We reacquainted ourselves with the dice drinking game that I was first taught a couple of years ago on a visit to Yangshuo. In the early hours we abandoned the bar having enjoyed the live music, Sarah Brightman DVD on loop and one waitress added to the list of fans gained. Back at the hotel, we enjoyed the lack of other guests by keeping the party going for a couple of hours.
Next morning after an early and ‘interesting’ breakfast we found a taxi prepared to take the six of us to Tiger Mountain (Hushan) and the Great Wall. The Wall looked quite steep, but we got to the top in pretty short order. From the peak of the hill there were great views all around, augmented by a telescope rented out for 3 Yuan by an old guy in a US Army coat.
Back down the other side and we reached ‘One Step Across’ the closest point between China and North Korea. Caroline was showing her usual disdain for authority when a border guard popped up to suggest we might like to get back into Chinese territory.
The bracing activity was just what we needed to recover from the previous evening’s excesses. We then took a taxi back to the railway station for the local take on the Jianbing (including a small sausage). The journey back to Shenyang was more subdued, as the return route normally as, especially as we were all pretty tired. Getting back right on time we had an hour in Shenyang before the fast train back to Beijing which would get us home at 22:30. We went for some Chinese fast food right next to the station. Baozi and beef noodles were the order of the day. After a quick meal we headed back into the station with plenty of time to spare.
Unfortunately this was Shenyang Nan (south) Station and our train was due to depart from the North station in 20 minutes. We headed across town in a taxi that showed more than usual reticence to speed and got to the platform after quite a substantial sprint. The train had just left. So we had a problem. It was 18:30 and we had a long journey to make. There were a number of different options, but the caveat was that we needed to be back insufficient time for Caroline to get to work for 08:00 the next morning. Sunnia also had a lecture at this time, while Carol and I both had lectures at 10:10. The usual hustlers at the gates tried to convince us that their bus was the only one in town, but again we turned to the Lonely Planet. After a bit of a hunt we eventually found the bus station and bought tickets for a night bus which left at 20:00 to arrive in Beijing around 06:00 the next morning.
Hardly ideal, but still a good solution under the circumstances, we settled into an almost empty bus as it departed the station. Just outside the station the bus stopped and approximately 20 more passengers got on. Half of whom were teenaged school kids, one particular girl could not hold her excitement as she saw our unexpected faces she let out an involuntary yelp. She then jumped into the seat behind us and proceeded to eat through a mountain of snacks., at one point offering a half-eaten pomegranate through the seats like feeding time at the zoo. We weren’t too worried by this development, as experience had told us that Chinese people are normally pretty reliable when it comes to settling down for sleep on public transport. The secondary market in tickets was an interesting one though as clearly empty buses leaving for Beijing are a useful thing to sell on. As far as we could tell, the bus drivers must have been in contact with the ticket touts by mobile phone, so ultimately everyone ended up on the same buses out of town. Depending on the deal you cut with the hustlers, this could be more or less expensive than buying the bus tickets at the station. Enterprising and environmentally sound, there was little to criticise about the set-up.
So, we settled down again for the ride home. Only it wasn’t to be so easy. The engine proceeded to cut out on one of the main express ways out of town. The driver and his mate jumped off the bus to tinker with the engine and petrol tank followed by starting the engine again. We pootled forward a few yards and then rolled to a stop again. This routine repeated itself approximately twenty times to our dismay and yet to the complete lack of surprise of any of the other passengers, despite Chinese customers normally being a pretty demanding lot. At one point the driver ran across the carriageway, vaulted the central reservation and jumped into a taxi headed in the other direction. We were confident another bus would be on the way, but no such luck. He arrived back sometime later with a hose that was quickly ‘jerry rigged’ into place and away we went. With a fuel stop, a stop to collect more passengers, (at which point we hopped into quieter seats), a stop for a small cage of dogs to be loaded into the hold and a few more engine problems and repairs we then left Shenyang approximately 2 hours later.
Exhausted; cold and concerned about the state of the bus there was little we could do but fall asleep. A few hours of drifting in and out of fitful sleep we arrived back in Beijing at about 06:30. Curiously it seemed the arrival time was set to anticipate the curious carry on with the bus. So we took a short taxi ride from the bus stop home. Caroline had time for a shower before work and I grabbed an hour’s sleep.
The weekend was over. Despite the problematic journey home we’d enjoyed seeing another part of the country and a brief glimpse into one of the most secretive regimes on the planet.
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