Old Streets of Pingyao
Pingyao Morning
I couldn’t get to sleep. Tom and Jerry were playing on the bus TV and the kid next to me kept falling asleep on my shoulder. I nudged him off again and cursed my lack of leg room. I checked my watch – 1:00am. The driver had chosen now for a noodle stop. Half an hour passed then we were back on our way and, exhausted, I fell into a deep sleep…For all of 3 hours.
I was woken with a prod. ‘Pingyao Pingyao!’ Dazed and confused I tried to adjust. I had planned this overnight bus to arrive in Pingyao at 8:00am. And now what WTF? 4:30am on the side of the motorway and I’m been told in Chinese that I’ve arrived! I’m being told to get off! A sign on the shoulder of the motorway does point to Pingyao, but I’m without a clue as to exactly how far it is. I made the call – I got off. Alone.
A shiver went up my spine from the chilly night air and the fact that I was walking into the dark night alone. I threw on my down jacket and put out my thumb. Hitching was of course useless. China is not like India where there is always someone going somewhere, anytime, happy to help you out for a few rupees. The trucks drove on past. So I walked.
Pingyao Han City Wall, the last remaining in China
But lady luck was with me, she often is. After walking only about 10 minutes I came across a motorway tollbooth. And quite to my surprise in this tiny central China outpost, the lady inside actually spoke a little English. In no time she arranged a random car and woke up my guesthouse manager telling him I was on my way. The rate of extortion was even very reasonable. I arrived, and I slept.
When I awoke mid morning I was amazed by the surroundings I found myself in. The guesthouse was like a movie set from old China, with lanterns, black brick work and a serene courtyard garden. Pingyao was a thriving merchant town in the Ming and Qing dynasties only a few centuries ago, since frozen in time when the town fell into poverty and failed to modernise. Outside the streets, closed to cars, were busy with Chinese tourists and market stalls. I sought out bike hire and with my knees touching the handle bars I headed out towards the west gate of the 6 km wall that surrounds Pingyao, said to be the last of its kind in China.
Mountain Noodles and spicy sauce. Delicious
The Lonely Planet described the 3km ride to Shuanglin monastery as ‘pleasant’ and that it featured ‘exquisite painted figurines’. I would describe the bike ride across scarred countryside and dusty fields of corn where pollution just hangs in the air as ‘interesting’ but definitely not pleasant. And the ‘exquisite painting figurines’ to be a complete figment. The figurines which can barely be made out in the lowest light were flaking paint and the Buddha’s inside I would consider to be in the worst condition of any such pieces I have seen in Asia.
I returned this time to the south gate of Pingyao and coughed up for the hefty 120yuan (NZ$25) ticket to all sites inside the walls. (They’ve really got you by the balls: its an all or nothing ticket). I walked the walls and poked my head into some of the old persevered residences. I ate at a small shop where the only word my host could say was ‘delicious’ as he pointed to each item on the menu. I ordered some mountain noodles, which to my surprise looked like a large honeycomb.
Incense trunks, Confucius Temple
The standout sites for me were the Confucius temple, where followers lit sticks of pink incense bigger than your leg, and the Taoist temple, where a lovely young guide gave me a free tour and description of all the tortures that sculptures of sinners were suffering – sliced in half, stomachs pounded with stones, eyes gouged out, all for eternity. I was advised against taking a photo, lest I release the soul into my camera and I contract this evil myself. These sculptures of course are remakes, the originals were sadly destroyed along with so much of Chinas ancient heritage by the Red Guards in the Cultural Revolution.
The lantern lit streets quietened down at night as day trippers had left. The early morning felt special too, Pingyao really felt like how I imagined the Middle Kingdom of centuries past.
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