We want to see Chinese wall. Well, I want to see it. It is an exception to my usual reluctance to plain tourism. So we take a bus to a transport hub that would have buses to Wall at Badaling, the most touristy, easy to reach place to spot the wall. Buses are rare and everybody tells us something else. After a while moving back and forth between different bus stops we respond to a driver who offers to take us for 60 yuan. Us includes a Canadian guy we have just met at the bus stop. The driver agrees and even signs a contract we present him, drives us a few kilometers in the direction of the P.o.S. of our interest, pulls over and adds “per person” to the 60 yuan. We laugh and shake our heads. Nice try, but it won’t work pal. We get off and take a bus back into the crowded metropole. Lucky he is, that driver, that I was somewhat absent-minded since he would have definitely been eligible for a good beating by me. During the busride back I realize the Wall could not offer us much more than a postcard, and we could as well go to see Walmart or Wall-e and lend them the adjective “great”. And traveling to Beijing without spotting that wall is also an achievement. By the way, P.o.S. means Pile of Stones.
We grab a coffee and try to find a Cause. To no avail. Thus we are a bit saddened and get home in order to visit some artists, for which it is too late. We then go to a restaurant with Ba Mo and her friend. The more than delicious spicy fish dish, tofu and soup and noodles more than make up for our unsuccessful day. All in all, we’re just another brick in the wall. Te – tuh du du di du du de.