Summers in Beijing are hot. Hot and sunny... OK... sometimes hot and smoggy. And though we do have canals, they do not exactly invite you to put on the swim-suit and dive in. So the thoughts tend to go to Maine with it's beautiful lakes and cool (read cold) ocean. So when our friends, Stew and Pam, asked if we wanted to join them for a trip to Shanhaiguan, it was a "no brainer." (Shan meaning mountains----hai meaning ocean) it is the place where the Great Wall rises majestically from the ocean. Another couple that we are friendly with, Steve and Diane Skalak, were also coming along. These are our four friends who love to do things the native way, so no hiring of a car for us. We were going to go on the local bus for the 4 hour ride. Pam read in a guide book that inexpensive accommodations can be found upon arrival, so why book an expat place???

Early in the morning we met at the bus station, finding a nice air-conditioned bus where we had pre-assigned seats. As the bus pulled out we were looking forward to a comfortable ride. Which it was, although an adventure at times, as we were hit with torrential rain about 2 hours into the trip. Since it rarely rains here, and personal space is a foreign concept, private cars just did not get it that perhaps a little space between vehicles was advisable in this kind of weather. Soon we were dodging a 4 car pile-up here, a 10 car pile-up there, seemingly having no effect to slow the traffic down. A snow storm at home produces way less damage than a rain-storm here. But our trusty bus driver got us through, and by the time we arrived in Qinhuangdao the sun was again shining.

As was our good luck. Two taxi-drivers came running to us, asking where we wanted to go. Shanhaiguan was still an hour away, so we promptly asked how much for the two cabs to take us there. With an offer of $15 for the ride, including first finding us a B&B, we were quick to accept. Riding along the ocean, we breathed the fresh sea air, and felt miles away from Beijing (Which we were)
The first signs of trouble appeared as we tried to find a hotel or B&B . All totally full, or they would not take foreigners.. Deciding that perhaps we could take the taxis back to where the bus stopped, we decided to enjoy our sight seeing. As luck had it, our taxis already had 6 tickets in hand for a trip to a section of the wall, and off we went. At destination we walked and walked, expecting any moment to reach the wall. Along the trail we encountered dozens of rare feathered friends, a long historic tunnel, but no wall! I guess something was lost in translation! But at least we still were going to see the wall enter the depths of the ocean, which we did . We also saw some motels, and tried again to find some beds. No luck. Our helpful drivers then decided to call ahead to Quinhuangdao, and turned to us with grim faces. Not a single room available for foreigners, HOWEVER, they did have a friend who was a manager at a hotel in Bedaihe, and they could house us. At this point we started to smell something fishy, and did not think it came from the ocean. We decided to call Melissa, Philip's secretary. (Here in China secretaries happily offer to be on call 24/7, and actually mean it) As she called back 30 minutes later to say that this was indeed the fact, we kind of panicked. We demanded to be driven back to the bus station, and watched the last bus leave with a worried smile on our faces. Perhaps we could sleep in the station?? But the attendant approached, clearly ready to sweep us out. So here we were with nowhere to go.

Suddenly we realized that despite our misgivings about the drivers, their info had been correct. They were gone, however, we did have their cell numbers. Ten minutes later our knights in armor cruised in with another low offer accepting to drive us to the "friends" motel in Beidaihe, about 30 minutes away, and our mood quickly rose. Approaching the city, beaches beckoned in the dark. It was getting late, but at least we would find a place to sleep. We walked in with our back-packs, and suddenly the smiles on the faces of the 6 woman behind the desk waned. They turned to our taxi driver, saying in Mandarin: "But they are not Chinese" A fact he had forgotten to mention. It appeared that this area mainly frequented by Russians and high party officials only house Western people in designated hotels. Luckily we understood the exchange, and loudly protested that we all live in Beijing! In as perfect Mandarin as possible, just omitting the tones- but the words were correct. It worked! As we were led to a simple motel- like building in the back, a collective sigh of relief escaped from us all. It was not fancy, she shower had no curtains, but it was clean.

The next morning we walked around town, swam in the ocean (At least two of the women did) enjoyed sea-food, dumplings, and headed home on the bus in the afternoon after thoroughly having enjoyed our week-end at the beach resort.