Doing things takes time. Of course I knew that, but how much time? Depends on the things doesn't it? And whether you've done it before, and whether you're dependent on others, and how dependable they are, and how reliable your information is etc etc. All pretty obvious stuff. In hindsight. Knowing how much time to allow is something that comes with experience. Which is exactly what I got as I made my way from Shanhaiguan to Chengde.
With a 5pm last bus departure on the horizon, and disappointed with smog shrouded visibility on my morning walk, and swayed by the underwhelming Lonely Planet write up of the actual sight of the Great Wall entering the sea, I opted to abandon an afternoon visit, despite it being the main reason I was in Shanhaiguan.
I was keen to avoid a potentially panicky race for the last bus to Chengde because, to catch it, I first needed to get to the nearby city of Qinhuangdao, a local bus ride away. No problem when you're a local, but not so straight forward as a foreigner who can't speak, read or write! Lonely Planet was understanably short on detail for this minor tourist destination, but they did have this particular bus journey and after a fun half hour of bobbly wobbly bus ride, I was in Qinhuangdao.
But where in Qinhuangdao? The final stop was a bit of a car park of local buses in an area of town with no recognisable buildings – no intercity bus station, no train station, no town hall or even post office. I was surrounded by non-descript concrete block apparments and offices.
I joined a queue to a nearby concrete shed masquerading as a ticket office to enquire about the bus to Chengde. I didn't hold out any hope that it actually left from here, or that the people behind the counters spoke any English, but I didn't yet have an alternative plan of action. If my bus didn't leave from here, then where? And how to get there? Time was slipping away.
A smiley local approached and applied his broken English as best he could. Conversation was a struggle, but I persevered, hoping he would help me find my bus. Victory was short lived. Once I had managed to make my travel plans understood, it was immediately clear that he thought there was no bus to Chengde! His advice was to go back to Beijing and out to Chengde by train, there are many. He proposed to drive me to the train station.
I was sure he was right about the frequency of trains, but I wasn't sure that he really knew there was no bus. But I was running out of time and options, and the train station offered the possibility of other people who might know about the bus to Chengde. If that bus didn't exist I would be well placed for plan B. I decided to go with him, still alert to the potential of this being one big con on the short brisk walk to his car, which was 'not far' and 'over there'. The fact that his car was indeed not far and over there was encouraging. The fact, revealed shortly after we'd joined traffic, that he'd been drinking, was not. If I understood correctly, he'd been at a business lunch where they'd eaten and drunk a lot. No wonder he was so happy! The walk to the car, the first minutes of the drive and my experience with Ruslan, encouraged me to not confuse his coordination with my concerns of his driving under the influence. Fortunately the drive was short.
At the train station, my merry local found a station official to share a laugh with over the idea of a bus to Chengde, before jumping queues to help me buy a ticket for the next train to Beijing.
Returning to Beijing was frustrating and disappointing. I had been trying to not retrace my route and though this wasn't a major problem, travelling two sides of a triangle instead of one would significantly delay my arrival in Chengde. A delay that also wouldn't be a big problem if I hadn't already bought my onward ticket. But I had, before I left Beijing.
It now looked like I'd have to skip sightseeing in Chengde as most of the day I'd allocated for it would be spent arriving and departing. This prospect was particularly frustrating because I had squeezed the less interesting Shanhaiguan into my schedule on the back of the mythical 5pm bus to Chengde.
I had come unstuck in Khazakstan, with future fixtures restricting my in-the-moment flexibility, due to a fixed schedule from Moscow to Beijing. But I'd defined that before I left the UK, this current setback was one of my own making and I had to learn my lesson!
I used the five hour train ride back to Beijing to critically revisit my speculative and sketchy schedule for China. It was a pencil plan of possibilities. Too many possibilities! I chopped away at the edges to create more room manoeuvre – off came a number of possibles in the North East -chop- including a national park along the North Korean border -chop- off came a horse trek in Inner Mongolia -chop- there would be no time to return to the west of China -chop-chop-etc-chop-etc.
Arriving late in Beijing, I had accepted my setback, learned my lesson and felt better having created a more realistic, achievable, and full yet flexible plan for China. I had resigned myself to only passing through Chengde, rather than touring, as I went to buy my train ticket for the next day.
Chengde is about five hours by train from Beijing so, given that it was about 22:00, I was surprised to find that the next train wasn't early the next morning, but at 23:15! A brief rush of panicky uncertainty, at the prospect of a sleepless night in a seat, failed to defeat the surge of excitement at the prospect of touring Chengde after all and the lure of a cheap ticket and night. Before I knew it I was scurrying along a platform and into a carriage. Hesitating in the face of possible Chinese protocol over unreserved seating, I was happy to be rescued, not for the first time, by local teenage girls, who invited me to join them. That they were returning home to Chengde was about the extent of possible conversation and soon enough, they had heads on arms on table and fell fast asleep. An activity most passengers seemed engaged in:
I struggle to sleep sat upright at the best of times, but a hard seat, noisy train, uncertain security situation and unfamiliar surroundings were never going to let my exhaustion get the better of my consciousness.
I tried to rest my eyes as best I could.
