Changyucheng again
It's been almost a year since we have been to Changyucheng. We didn't meant to stay away so long, but Huanghuacheng has become our preferred destination of late.
During this holiday week our purpose at Changyucheng was to get the kids outdoors, hopefully away from the worsening air quality in Beijing. Heading to the far west of Beijing, we were looking forward to a bit of hiking and letting the kids play in the woods.
Along the hiking trail that goes from the village reservoir to the Hebei border, there is a mountain stream that Randy thought would be a suitable place to play. At one spot where the two paths cross, Myles immediately started to work on dam construction.
So rare the opportunity to play like this.
More after the jump
Hiking back down to the village as the sun was going down, the kids indulge me with one more picture. I'm trying to focus on the beautiful colors we have here in Beijing's mountains, rather than the colors we don't have. As I posted before, it's Qiutian daole, shu huangle (Autumn comes, and the leaves yellow).
I wanted to stop as we were leaving the village to get one more picture of the one yet-unrestored archway. Another archway I was fortunate to photograph before and after a recent restoration. However, this one has not yet been touched.
In the last four--maybe five--times we've been to Changyucun, we've never walked up to the arch. For the first time this week I wanted to get closer. I was surprised. Just inside this archway are the remains of a tower, round like a turret on a European castle, and after a left turn, a gate.
As we were leaving, a group of local people sitting just outside the wall motioned to me to come over. They were curious about us, the kids, and our country of origin. They guessed us to be Koreans, the first time we've gotten that. American, British, even Russian (and once Shanxiren) we've heard lately , but never Korean. I explained that we weren't, adding that we live in Changping, near the Ming Tombs. Somehow this explained to them my accent. They offered to share their just-cooked corn-on-the-cob with us. I tried to decline, but they were more than happy to give us four cobs. We had little choice but to accept graciously. Thanking them and another woman who insisted on filling Brigid's pockets with red berries, we were soon on our way back home.
Fresh air for our lungs and fresh air for our souls. Exactly the kind of day we all needed this holiday week.
During this holiday week our purpose at Changyucheng was to get the kids outdoors, hopefully away from the worsening air quality in Beijing. Heading to the far west of Beijing, we were looking forward to a bit of hiking and letting the kids play in the woods.
Along the hiking trail that goes from the village reservoir to the Hebei border, there is a mountain stream that Randy thought would be a suitable place to play. At one spot where the two paths cross, Myles immediately started to work on dam construction.
So rare the opportunity to play like this.
More after the jump
Hiking back down to the village as the sun was going down, the kids indulge me with one more picture. I'm trying to focus on the beautiful colors we have here in Beijing's mountains, rather than the colors we don't have. As I posted before, it's Qiutian daole, shu huangle (Autumn comes, and the leaves yellow).
I wanted to stop as we were leaving the village to get one more picture of the one yet-unrestored archway. Another archway I was fortunate to photograph before and after a recent restoration. However, this one has not yet been touched.
In the last four--maybe five--times we've been to Changyucun, we've never walked up to the arch. For the first time this week I wanted to get closer. I was surprised. Just inside this archway are the remains of a tower, round like a turret on a European castle, and after a left turn, a gate.
As we were leaving, a group of local people sitting just outside the wall motioned to me to come over. They were curious about us, the kids, and our country of origin. They guessed us to be Koreans, the first time we've gotten that. American, British, even Russian (and once Shanxiren) we've heard lately , but never Korean. I explained that we weren't, adding that we live in Changping, near the Ming Tombs. Somehow this explained to them my accent. They offered to share their just-cooked corn-on-the-cob with us. I tried to decline, but they were more than happy to give us four cobs. We had little choice but to accept graciously. Thanking them and another woman who insisted on filling Brigid's pockets with red berries, we were soon on our way back home.
Fresh air for our lungs and fresh air for our souls. Exactly the kind of day we all needed this holiday week.
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