The Great Wall at Mutianyu

New developments stretched for miles

11th June 2013

We headed northeast from Beijing to see the Great Wall at Mutianyu on our friend Danny's advice.  Badaling, closer and to the northwest of Beijing is the more popular, crowded and touristy bit we were told.

So, the plan was to check out of our Beijing hotel and head out to the Great Wall and then return to catch the evening train to Xian.

Turns out that it was the Dragon Boat Festival weekend, and as we hit the highway, there were several others heading out as well!

Our driver, recommended by Danny, knew English, but was not loquacious by any means.  Probably did not want to put his English to the test!

But it was a great help having him as he took us door to door, and also pointed us in the right direction at every step of the way.

We stayed on the Jincheng Expressway, and it felt like forever before we truly left Beijing and entered the countryside.

Suddenly, there was farmland all around

Rolling farmlands growing unrecognisable crops, interspersed with patches of trees, all looking nice and green.

Bohai is the township where Mutianyu village is located.  Reportedly Mutianyu gets tourist income, but the rest of the township is not in great shape.

We arrived at Mutianyu and found that it was raining and the thought of walking up made me rather miserable.  We had toyed with the idea of taking the cablecar up (it meant less time taken) and the weather sealed it.  For 80 RMB a head, we got ourselves cable car tickets.

There are not many pictures of the village because we did not take the cameras out in the incessant drizzle.

The cable car works with super efficiency and cars keep coming and taking visitors up, so there was no real waiting period, and we were up and out in some fifteen twenty minutes, all rather painless and untiring.

A good thing, becuase this is what stretched ahead of us!

Enjoy the pictures

So, here we were, on the Great Wall of China.  Remember the Billy Joel song?

Imagine the Chinese soldiers of old patrolling this, and keeping a nervous eye out for the marauding Mongols.  And now, a happy giggly bunch of tourists walk the ramparts!

The Mutianyu section has been restored as recently as the 1980s, and was also worked on during the Ming dynasty

What a fortune must have been spent on building this and then maintaining troops on it.

The Wall stands right on top of the mountain ridge, and from above, there seems to be miles of forest

We were lucky with the rain and drizzle, which held off when we were atop.  It also cleared the air, and improved our visibility.  A friend of mine said that when she visited, thre was so much mist/fog that they did not have a clear view from above.

We spent a few hours climbing up, and then down the length of this section.  At some places, the steps were steep and treacherous.  I was glad to have negotiated this when my knees were still intact.

It was made of stone in the early days, and then the Mings replaced sections with bricks.

Thrilling and breathtaking.

My only regret was I saw not one bird despite that extensive greenery and forest cover.  I scanned the skies and looked hopefully into the foliage but even the magpies of Beijing were not to be seen.  

Was it the rain?  Was I not looking in the right place?  One blog said that the unrestored bits have more bird life than the restored bits. 

And then just as we decided it was time to go, there was a rumble, and a thunderstorm broke over our heads.  We were at the head of the queue going down in the cablecar, but had to wait for the storm to abate, before they allowed us on.

If you please, we were in this car going down!

A last view from the cablecar

A walk through the only bit of stalls, filled with koala bears, and great wall t shirts

Old Chinese saying:  "You are only a hero when you climb the Great Wall."  I wonder if cablecars qualify!

And then before we knew it, we were back on the expressway.

An Elantra cab!

The driver had a gprs map of the city, with traffic levels on different highways.  So roads that were marked red were heavy with traffic and to be avoided.

I was totally impressed.  He kept changing direction and roads to get us to the station on time. 

Our ride seemed never ending, and we were int he outskirts of the city for what seemed like forever.

Beijing has several stations, and we were headed to Beijing West.  Our cabbie had never been to this station, but he found it with just that electronic map of his, and dropped us at the gate, well in time. 

Read about the station and our travels in Xian, as Sekar writes. 

Yihe Yuan, the summer palace of Cixi

10th June 2013. Beijing

A day of parks and gardens. Beihai in the morning, rush back to the hotel, get on the metro and ride off to Beigongment station and arrive at the North Palace Gate of the Summer Palace, the quirky large royal garden with its fabulous Kunming Lake and its Buddhist hill.

Built, destroyed, rebuilt and now enjoyed by the Beijingers as a lovely gigantic green lung.

We entered via the North Gate, and this involved climbing the Buddhist hill right off.  (Entry from the Eastern Gate circumvents this, I realised later)

It was a typical Beijing evening, with no sign of sun or sky, but what amazed me was the trees.  Whereever I looked, I saw them, large and green.  What oases these royal parks now are for the urban jungle that is Beijing. 

The North Gate

The Suzhou Market Street

We (my husband and I) went in without any pre-reading, hoping the boards would tell us where we were and what we were seeing, but it was only later that I realised that this was the Suzhou Market Street.  Suzhou is a city in eastern China, famous historically for its canals, gardens, and was a happening metro in centuries past. 

The story goes that the Emperor who first built this complex in the eighteenth century had a concubine from Suzhou. And she was sad as she missed her city, and so, as emperors are wont to do, he ordered the building of this street so his favourite concubine could feel at home, go shopping and be happy generally.  Oh by the way, supposedly the concubine was a Buddhist nun to begin with, and there's a temple somewhere for her to pray and live as well!

The first set of steps leading up to the Longevity Hill and the Four Great Regions

The complex is large and, though thousands mill around, it hardly feels crowded.

The Longevity Hill houses the complex called the Four Great Regions with Buddhist temples of Tibetan and Han origins.  From what I understood, buildings have been burned down, restored in parts, and a large scale restoration took place quite recently, so we were fortunate.

Another sttep of steps to get to the top of the hill

Above these steps is the "Hall of the Buddha confirming his Doctrine", and symbolises Mount Sumeru.  This was also burnt down in 1860 during the occupation by the Allied Forces and rebuilt by emperor Gunagxu, who if I'm not mistaken was Cixi's nephew.

As I caught my breath after climbing those stairs, I looked around at what is probably typical of Tibetan architecture?  Seemed different from the Qing and Ming stuff we had seen I felt.

Isnt that steep?!

Through the trees and the rocks we spied Tibetan pagodas,  lovely Chinese roofs and a whole host of buildings, which we did not go into, since like typical tourists we had just a few hours before rushing off elsewhere.

As we looked back, this was the large platform where you can see two sutra pillars and two lions, all that remain of a large temple complex that has not been rebuilt

From atop the hill, we had a lovely panoramic view of this part of the sprawl of Beijing.  On one side, (picture above)  in the foreground was a large platform on which a temple had stood, and in the distance were the trees that blocked out the city from view.  

On the other (picture below) was the Kunming lake.  Far off in the distance was the new city.

I wondered how the city looked in those early days of the gardens.   Large wooden mansions?  Hutongs with hand-drawn rickshaws?

And did those royals really climb this hill?!

Kunming lake with the seventeen arches bridge and the tortoise island in the middle....and modern Beijing in the distance.

And as we went to the other side I had my answer, the approach from the other side was a gentle undulating "path" that wound up the hillside, with trees and temples interspersed.

This is how the royalty probably came up the hill!

We probably took the service entrance!

The Tower of Buddhist Incense

As we descended this path, various roofs popped out most invitingly, but we did not have time to go an explore all of them.  It was past five in the evening, and closing time was just an hour away.  We still had the lake area to explore.

The Long Gallery, a rather long corridor, filled with lovely paintings and decorated with motifs

We came down to the living quarters area of the complex.  Each room had a name - Yiyun house, Yulang Tang and several more.

Empress Longyu, the mother of the last emperor spent a lot of time here, and I think signed the abdication papers also here.

Looks like she was not a favourite of the emperor, but was a favourite of Cixi the dowager and Regent.

Yulang Tang - the Hall of Jade Ripples, where Guangxu worked and carried out matters of state

Yiyun House (I think)

From the seventeen arch bridge.  As the skies darkened and the light faded, it really made for a pretty sight

The Longevity Hill complex seen from across the lake, from Nanhu Island

Nanhu Island is manmade and is shaped like a tortoise and houses the Guangrun Lingyu Ci temple.  Better known as the Temple of Timely Rains and Extensive Moisture!

The tortoise is again a symbol of Longevity, and looks like Cixi loved this island and the temple, her favourite starting point for visits.

We missed the marble boat built by Cixi using Navy funds if you please.  The story goes that she built herself a marble boat on the banks of the lake calling it naval development ha ha!

The Bronze Ox on the lake front.  Erected to stave off floods,

Joyrides on the lake reminded me of Ooty!

But this was definitely Chinese, a dragon boat, and the lake walkway in the distnace.

It was time to go, and we exited via the East Palace Gate, where we saw some more magnificent bronzes

The bronze dragons that are the symbol of royalty

The mythical Qilin, a good omen for the Chinese.  It has a dragon's head, lion's tail,  horns of a deer, and cattle hooves and the body is covered with scales. In legend, the Qilin/Kylin guards against destruction by fire.

The court area, which we should have come in by, but we were exiting by!

Stone of the God of Longevity

Confucius says "One who is benevolent enjoys longevity".

Cixi probably had not heard that saying, or misunderstood what benevolence meant!

We wandered out, back to the station and on to Guamao, where we caught a glimpse of a typical  evening  in Beijing, street dancing et al.

Beautiful

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Chilika – Jewel of Odisha

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The GBBC in Chennai

Rare sightings liven up bird count

P. Oppili

Ashy Minivet

The ashy minivet that was spotted at Theosophical Society and a huge flock of Pacific golden plovers seen at the Adyar estuary were the two rare sightings during the Great Backyard Bird Count (GBBC) in the city this year.

The count, a four-day event, was taken up across the State from Friday. Naturalists, bird watchers and ornithologists participated in the event.

In Chennai, members of the Madras Naturalists’ Society (MNS) formed eight groups and visited places such as Siruthavoor, Adyar Estuary, Perumbakkam marsh, Pulicat lake, Kelambakkam backwaters, Guindy National Park, IIT-M campus, Navalur lake, Manimangalam lake, Theosophical Society, and Annamalaicherry and recorded the presence of various species.

According to Gnanaskandan of MNS, more birds were spotted this year due to an increase in the number of participants.

In fact, Tamil Nadu State topped the list in the sighting of maximum number of birds during the count.

The State recorded sightings of 227 species, Mr. Gnanaskandan told The Hindu . The count is an annual event.

On the first two days, the birders recorded the birds in their backyard. Some of them even counted the number of birds found in their backyard, he said.

The count would continue on Monday.

The bird count is mainly taken up to check the distribution of birds and also to monitor global population trends.

Compared to last year, the number of sightings of wetland species has come down.

But overall, the bird sightings this year have gone up by a considerable number, he added.

Two kingfishers

A flash of blue
And they were gone.

The Statesman: COUNTRY NOTEBOOK

The Statesman: COUNTRY NOTEBOOK

Puff ball
~ m krishnan

PUNDITS have been puzzled by the lora’s taxonomical position, whether to place it with the bulbuls or with the orioles or in a class by itself, but no one has ever doubted that it is one of the most charming of our garden birds. In the breeding season the dapper little cock wears a vivid livery of black and yellow — the hen is on less attractive, all the year round, in green and yellow. The cock has a variety of loud, clear calls, some of them remarkably like a human whistle, and its courtship display is justly celebrated. It shoots up into the air and then descends on slow wings – “all at once the long, white downy plumes that keep its ribs warm will start out on each side, then, like a white puff ball dashed with black and gold, it will slowly descend, quivering and glittering in the rays of the morning sun”.
However, it is of the nest and the hen that I write. Let me quote “Eha” again, on the nest. “A beautiful piece of work, a little cup, the size of a small after-dinner coffee cup, compactly woven of fine fibres and bound all round on the outside with white cob-webs.” It is as dainty and almost as white as the best china, but of course it is much lighter, being made of fibres and gauzy cobweb, not heavy clay.
In September this year I found a lora’s nest in a mango tree, some 13 feet from the ground and in the ultimate fork of the lowest bough. The only way to get on terms with the nest, for photography, was to build a machan-hide beside it on four stout poles, but I had no time for elaborate constructions and so used a packing case on top of a stool, which gave me almost an eye-level view when I stood upright upon it. However, there were difficulties. The cock, which took the afternoon sessions at the nest, would not come anywhere near while the undisguised photographer stood by. But the hen, which covered the eggs during the forenoon and at night, was a close sitter and was prepared to suffer my proximity, so long as I kept quite still and had a dark-khaki bush-shirt over by head.
There were other difficulties. The tall library-stool and rickety legs, the packing-case had very limited stability and I weigh close on 160 lb — a combination of circumstances ill suited to one another. In fact, in the attempt to rise gradually on my toes so as to get the lens level with the nest, I came down precipitately, but after assuring myself that both camera and self were whole, I learnt the excruciating trick of the feat. Throughout the hen lora sat tight, indifferent to my ludicrous fall. Its only response to my nearness was to turn in the nest so as rudely to present its tail to me, however, I shifted the stool and altered my angle of approach.
You should have heard the hen calling to its mate, which keeps within hearing distance, when it was the cock’s turn to take over — a torrent of quick, musical notes that seemed, to the human ear, to be fired with impatience. This call was also used when the hen, returning to the nest spotted me on my precarious packing case, head and camera bowed and the sweat running in a steady trickle down my chin. The temptation to look up at the bird was great, but very soon I learned the wisdom of wanting till it was well settled in the nest before raising the camera.
On the evening of 14 September there was a sudden downpour. A friend wondered how the little bird and the frail, exposed nest could survive the drenching. Later in the night, the rain changed to an exquisitely fine drizzle and a cold wind set in. At 10 pm I visited the nest, with the paraphernalia for flash photography. The next gleamed whiter than ever in the beam of my torch, but where was the bird? I mounted the packing-case and gradually stood up — and saw a remarkable sight. A soft deep pile of white topped the next, like a roof of silk-cotton — that was the hen covering the eggs, so lost in the fluffed out down that no trace of head or wing or recognizable bird feature could be seen. After taking my photograph I climbed down, but accidentally touched the bough in my clumsiness.
At once the lid of fluff rose up till it was a ball of fluff with just a tiny bird-face visible on top, then slowly the down-feathers subsided till the lora was recognisable as a bird, though still much puffed out. Then it hopped on to a twig above the nest, puffed itself out again till it was once more a ball of fluff and went to sleep. The head and feet, and even the twig beneath the feet, were completely lost in the down, and the bird looked like a larger, puff-ball nest above the cup-nest in the fork that held the eggs.
I retired quietly hoping the bird would return to its nest with my departure. At 1 am when I furtively revisited the nest, the puff-ball was still on the twig above the fork and I took a photograph. The fine drizzle had stopped, but it was quite cold and as I got into bed I could not help feeling guilty, thinking of the exposed eggs. I need have had no qualms, for early next morning I found the hen on the nest again and in the afternoon just before I left that place, I watched the cock take over, and settle firmly on posterity.

This was first published on 20 November 1955 in The Sunday Statesman