Jill Malcolm – Hitting the Wall

The Great Wall of China was not named lightly. I had heard about it, read about it, been told that I could spot it from the moon (if ever I went there) and was still astounded when I actually saw it - well part of it - a very small part.

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The Great Wall of China was not named lightly. I had heard about it, read about it, been told that I could spot it from the moon (if ever I went there) and was still astounded when I actually saw it – well part of it – a very small part. The wall is 6000kms long. If its bricks were reconstructed to build a wall five metres high and one metre thick it would circle the earth and there’d be bricks left over.

To see it, most people go to Bandaling, 70kms north of Beijing because it was the first part of the wall to be restored and opened for tourists. I’d heard that it was overrun by visitors and attractions so I headed for a more authentic section starting at Simatai, where there were only one or two small stalls. Our party of six walked 10kms along the wall to Jingshun Ling. It was no easy stroll.

Steep, undulating and roughened underfoot, much of it was disintegrating. And yet semi-ruined as it is and challenging to negotiate, we felt that it was at least the genuine article. I tried to conjure up the battles,tempests and time that over the centuries have battered its flanks and towers and crumbled its surfaces. As in many places along this incredible edifice, the views of distant hills and plains are astonishingly far reaching. As a barrier to marauding armies, however, it was never very successful. We had the same taxi that took to the start of the walk meet us at the finish.