Driving through Beijing, it is evident that China has changed greatly in twenty years. There is new construction everywhere, with high-rise apartments on the outskirts of the city housing thousands of people. On the plus side, there are many more trees that have been planted, so the city is not as stark as it was. Along the highway there are rows of trees and climbing roses, however no birds to be seen in residence.

 

Our hotel, the Red Garden Inn, is in the Hutong area and is delightful. You drive along a very narrow street to a small gate that opens to what one would imagine a home before the revolution might have looked like. Courtyard, beautiful handcrafted beans, painted in traditional Chinese designs, fountains made from clay pots bubbling in corners, and art everywhere. Even the room numbers have artistic touches with paintbrushes or a teapot under the number.

 

Our destination was the village of Cuandixia, two hours outside Beijing. It was reported to be a charming preserved village created 500 years ago where the Han family lived during the Ming Dynasty. Pictures and descriptions brought to mind a thriving village set into the mountainside with beautiful trees and flowering bushes. Driving there we passed gigantic electrical towers intertwining and snaking down a valley that resembled a dry riverbed. Touring on either sides of the road were cragged mountains that posed a threat of tumbling rocks blocking our pathway. Once again, Shap and I found ourselves riding on winding roads with 1,000 of feet drop-offs and no guard rails. We seem to have the uncanny ability of finding in every country their steepest, most challenging roadway.

 

Cuandixia appears to be in a National Park due to the fact that we had to pay to get into the area. There is no indication of this other than a checkpoint. Of course, if we read Chinese it might all be clear. Arriving there, you could look upward on the mountain to see rows of stone homes and cement tiled roof tiles. It might have been more authentic if the roof tiles had been clay, but restoration has taken place and now cement seems to have replaced the old clay and stone building methods. However, the village was laid out exactly as it had been with the wealthy living high on the hill and the poorer people at the bottom. At one time there was a river flowing by but it is a dry riverbed now.

 

We climbed up on uneven stairs, through courtyards of homes shuttered closed. The doors with rice paper coverings were torn, and the entire village had the look of abandonment. The popularity of the village has waned. A shrine sat above the village with a winding pathway leading to it. Spectacular views of the mountainside and the rooflines of the village were worth the trip alone. We ended the climb walking through a fragrant pathway of flowering bushes.

 

Out guide suggested a “short” walk along the old silk road (now a two lane highway) to an area where the rock walls squeeze the road into a zig -zag of rock walls with long cervices snaking through the rock threatening to disengage at any moment to block the roadway. The short walk in the hot sun turned into over a mile of uphill and an apology from our guide that forgot the distance. All was worth it once you happened upon these rocks. An abandoned primary school was carved into the rock with a wooden doorway, carved openings for windows which was the only indication of an entrance. Dark, damp and cave-like, it would not be an encouraging place to study.

 

Tomorrow the first leg of our Trans-Siberian adventure.