Beijing.

We stubbornly walk from Beijing West main station for an hour or so just to reach a tube station and avoid paying for a taxi. Our room at 'Happy Dragon Courtyard Hostel' is nice and cosy with giant radiators that don't work. We explore our immediate area and find a bakery café that's lovely and warm, with an incredible selection of delicious looking cakes that would be perfect were it not for the left-over trash everywhere.

We manage to waste our first day in the capital by being lazy and indecisive. I'm blaming the intense cold for freezing our brains. At the last minute we decide to visit the nearby 'Lama Temple' - a magnificently brightly coloured Buddhist complex that we could have easily spent more time at. We walk around snapping away at the various temples, shrines, people praying and burning incense before hurrying back to the metro to get to the 'Temple of Heaven Park' - which is closed. Apparently the place is closed to prepare for a massive New Years Eve countdown which no-one seems to know about. (We witnessed a huge tour group arrive and look puzzled at the notices and the guards directing people away and the hostel staff could only reply with blank looks when we asked them about it later.)

Our new years eve was such a failed attempt that I'm not even going to bother documenting it. We tried to meet the Italians we'd met in Datong, but only succeeded in wandering from one metro to another trying to find either of the locations we'd agreed to meet at. So as it turned out we had a very sober and quiet NYE…...

1 January 2012.

It's mid afternoon by the time we leave the hostel and descend the steps to the Beijing metro. There are swarms of people everywhere - every station is like Oxford Circus a week before Christmas. Crowds of shoppers squeeze through the security check, down the escalators and onto the wide platforms to board the clean air-conditioned carriages physically pushing and shoving as they go.

We arrived at Panjiayuan Market as the stall holders are beginning to wrap up for the day. The sound of ripping sellotape resonates around the vast canopied area amid a flurry of re-assembling and packing boxes. We can still see row upon row of the most dazzling wares. We could spend a day here easily; eyeing up the delicately painted porcelain vases and tea-sets, the intricately carved woodwork, jade and stoneware or the elaborate calligraphy paintings and watercolours. It all looks amazing and I want one of everything, but we're out of time.

The problem with getting anywhere in China, as mentioned earlier, is that the distances are so vast - even on the Beijing metro system, the interchanges are sprawling networks that make the Bank station Central to Northern line interchange look like a short hop, skip and a jump. So by the time we got to Tianneman East metro on our third day in the city, we already felt as though we'd been on a gym treadmill for an hour.

We joined the crowds herding through the main gates of the 'Forbidden City', stopping to pose in front of the famous citadel. 'The Palace Museum' as it's officially known is much bigger than I expected and there are plenty of magnificent buildings to see even though a large portion is out of bounds to visitors. The sky is a bright blue for the first time in what seems like ages, yet there is no warmth from the sun. It's been below freezing during our time in China and today is no different. An icy blast whips through the complex chilling us to our core and generally making it an uncomfortable and unpleasant day to be a tourist.

The site was mostly built during the early 1400's during the Ming Dynasty, and as buildings were damaged or destroyed by natural causes or otherwise, rebuilt during the Qing Dynasty with the newest structures dating from the late 1800's.

The halls, palaces, gates and courts have fantastically elaborate design, interior decoration and nomenclatures. Titles such as 'The Hall of Middle Harmony', 'The Palace of Earthly Tranquillity' and 'The Place of Gathering Excellence' bestow a magnificence and mystery to the once secret residence of China's great historical emperors.

We jostle with the crowds peering into the fenced off structures, hunched against the cold and try not to lose each other in the maze of identical red alleyways adjacent to the 'Imperial Gardens'. 'The Gallery of Treasures' displays exquisite ornaments, jewellery and household items that would have once been used in the imperial courts or donated as gifts from visiting dignitaries.

Tianneman Square directly opposite the 'Forbidden City' is remarkable for being the largest public square in the world and has borne witness to a number of major historical events, particularly the student pro-democracy demonstrations of 1989. It is also remarkable for having the most comprehensive closed circuit television and police surveillance I've ever seen. The 'Big Brother' of China's ruling government is hard to ignore here - it must surely be no coincidence that China's main television channel is called 'CCTV'….. It's also remarkably cold, so we don't hang around to watch the flag lowering ceremony, but instead leave behind the bleak imposing communist era buildings around the square and get back on the tube to find some dinner.

A short metro ride from our hostel is a road known as "Ghost Street". I'm not sure why….'Dongzhimennei Dajie' is seemingly entirely illuminated by pretty red lanterns as far as the eye can see and is lined almost exclusively with spicy seafood restaurants. So we order beef. Go team Dean and Katy…..

Great wall pt 1…………

A phone alarm buzzed at 6am, but it wasn't until 8am that I managed to drag myself out of bed. (The beds we've slept in here in China are probably the most comfortable we've had anywhere - provided you like a rock hard bed) We've each put on extra layers to protect against the biting cold, but we're still chilled to the bone by the time we reach the subway station.

As we disembark at Donghzhimen, a small woman spies us reading the direction signs and points us in the direction of the bus station. Of course it's too much to hope that she's just being helpful and continues to follow us trying to sell us a seat in her minivan driving to the Great Wall. I politely decline as she continues repeating the same offer over and over - the bus is too slow she tells us. Katy storms determinedly ahead occasionally shooting the woman dirty looks from over her shoulder.

We join what we hope is the right queue, shuffling forward, pointing at the location name in the guidebook to get the right ticket. Given our previous record of trying to do things ourselves and getting off the beaten track, it's a wonder that we still try and bother, but I'm determined to succeed today.

We journey an hour through the outskirts of Beijing to Huairou where the bus conductor ushers us off and points us towards a waiting taxi. The driver tries to charge us 400Yuen to get the final distance to the Jiankou section of the Great Wall. Katy has got very good at dealing with taxi drivers and doesn't quit until she gets a satisfactory price. The driver has already gone down to 300 and is shaking his head every time we insist on 200, but by the time we reach the car door we've got our price.

It's a scenic hour's drive through pretty countryside and winding mountain roads to reach the village of Xizhazi. A dry landscape of bare trees and dead grass, frozen rivers, lakes and fountains leads us past a secluded alpine style resort which looks completely deserted - the extreme cold has rendered entire villages ghost towns. The only signs of life are the occasional villager by the side of the road dressed in full length padded military looking green coats and thick fur hats. We reach a gate where I jump out to pay the 40Yuen entry fee for the pair of us, though surely there's no-one dumb enough to stand around checking tickets in this remote freezing wilderness. A few yards further down the road the driver pulls up and gestures towards a rough concrete path leading off around the side of a hillock. We agree a time to reconvene, pay half of his fee and get out to commence our trek in the cold.

There are no signs indicating which way to go but there are some telling us that this section of wall is closed. The concrete path leads away in both directions, so we choose the left fork and follow the same when it forks again concluding that it must lead somewhere….

Finally though, the concrete peters out to a rough trail leading up into the woods on the side of the mountain. A little old man bent over double with the weight of the sticks he's carrying on his back staggers down the slope leading from the woods. He doesn't cast us a glance and continues doggedly on his way bearing a load that is at least as big as he is.

We spend the next half hour ascending the mountain via the rocky path up the hill. The wall makes tantalising appearances through the trees and looks to be just a short distance away so I bound up the path excitedly while Katy stops to catch her breath every few paces.

The worn trail continues up to a section of wall that has completely disintegrated and a slew of bricks lie haphazardly at the base. It is soon apparent that we can't get anywhere that way, so rejoin the path leading around the base of the wall and follow it past a watch-tower to another collapsed section up which we climb to stand atop the wall for our first proper views from the 'Great Wall of China'.

The views are spectacular - the wall does as every guidebook says and snakes off into the distance in either direction over the undulating hills and mountains. The skies are clear and we can see far off along the valley and the villages below. We bear right and walk along this rough wild section that looks completely unattended. The silence is broken only by the voices of a small group scrabbling around the rocks and fallen bricks further ahead of us, otherwise we are completely alone. This suits me just fine.

Sections of the wall here are either crumbling, completely disintegrated or in relative good condition, but with trees protruding through the brickwork. We need to be careful with our footing as we walk through towers whose roofs have collapsed and negotiate the impossibly steep steps that have crumbled away to near nothingness causing us to clamber up using our hands and knees. As we get ever higher the wind whips up around us cutting through the extra layers we'd pulled on this morning. As we reach a clear and unbroken path on the wall, I try and summon the courage to ask the question. After ascending the second impossibly steep section of broken steps we arrive at a crumbling watchtower that's perched perilously alone at the top of the slope. I consider the section of wall before us that from here looks even steeper and harder than what we've already climbed unsure of what to do next. We sit for a moment to shelter from the harsh wind that's howling around us.

I take a deep breath and awkwardly steer the conversation to "us" and how fantastic the trip has been - but the problem with spending so much time together is that it's really hard to buy a ring…..

A wedding proposal needs to be a monumental event, so what could be more monumental than the Great Wall Of China, right? I hadn't been this nervous about asking any question for some time - imagine my elation that everything had gone to plan and she said yes!

Our journey back to Beijing was spent basking in the warm glow of happiness from this joyous and unforgettable moment in our lives.

We had meant to go to the more famous and touristy section of the Great Wall the next day, but we got up too late and missed the bus, so headed for the 'Summer Palace' instead. The gardens and buildings here are beautiful even in the depths of winter and must be dazzling in the summer. The huge lake is frozen over and groups of friends skate over the surface. We manage to evade the large groups of Chinese tourists and find plenty of nice spots around the extensive grounds to ignore the cold and discuss future plans.

That evening we were looking forward to sampling the famous Beijing cuisine of 'Peking Duck'. As it turns out, it's no better than the shredded crispy duck pancakes from my local Chinese restaurant. Never-the-less we enjoyed a pleasant evening with our Kiwi friends from Pingyao, who had now arrived in Beijing.

The Great Wall pt 2.

By 9am the next day, we'd checked out of the hostel, stowed our bags and were on our way to Jishuitan metro to catch a bus to the Badaling section of the Great Wall. There was a little confusion whereby a ticket tout took me for a mug and tried to charge us 80Yuen each to get on the bus. We continued round the corner to the old city gate and waited in line to catch a bus for 24Yuen for the pair of us.

An hour and half bus ride later, the local I'm seated next to nudges me awake and the bus conductor is motioning for us to get off having reached our destination.

Our second visit to the wall couldn't be more different from our first with clear sign posts leading the way past smart modern shops, eateries and hotels. We had lunch from 'Subway' instead of from our backpack. We used the clean toilet facilities instead of a bush. We walked through turnstiles to a courtyard filled with gift-shops and cafes instead of a dusty path that only led to rubble.

This is the most restored and heavily visited section of wall, but it's still a lot steeper than I expected (although there is a cable car here if you get tired.) We still enjoyed a pleasant hour or so walking along in the bright sunshine avoiding the touts selling various useless trinkets, walking until we could go no further and turning back, stopping to have our photo taken along the way with the mother of a young Chinese guy. We're almost getting used to being asked by now!

Back at the metro, it's nearly rush hour and already scores of people are pushing and shoving their way onto the carriages. They have no qualms in lifting you to one side if you're in their way, which would be funny if it weren't so damn rude. What is funny though is when we stand next to a couple of girls who are sporting the latest fashion amongst the youth of Beijing - "geek chic" glasses - wide framed specs with no lenses. No lenses! It looks just a little bit silly.

We get back to the hostel just in time for our ride to the Beijing opera. We soon get stuck in traffic and sit waiting patiently in 6 lanes of road choked with hundreds of idling cars. The lights are red for ages and I can't help but wonder what the effect would be if everyone turned off their engines for the duration of their wait? While we wait I notice that our driver is like everyone else throughout Asia and doesn't bother with a seatbelt. When he begins to shout into his 'phone I realise what Chinese speech reminds me of…..Imagine Janet Street-Porter speaking 'club stylee' a la 'Shooting Stars'. Think about it…..weird huh?

The opera is being held in a massive glitzy hotel so Katy and I feel right at home walking through the shiny lobby in our grungy traveller clobber. An usher looks us up and down and sighs when we present our tickets and waves us through to the theatre where we take our seats. We treat ourselves to an over-priced glass of white wine (the budget is well and truly spanked anyway!) and sit back to enjoy the show.

Beijing opera is weird and I don't get it. The costumes and make-up are fantastic (er…) with bright elaborate colours. The high pitched music from screeching reed instruments and percussion often sounds like crashing pots and pans and the singing is, well, awful. It's a raucous wailing, like cats meowing and mewling, or nails down a chalkboard. The women speak in rising and falling squeaks like air being slowly released from the end of a balloon and the men have a more baritone howling, both in such an exaggerated, ungainly way that to my uneducated ear just sounds like an unpleasant riot of noise.

Fortunately there are some wonky translations to keep the audience amused displayed on large LED screens to either side of the stage. The whole thing is an interesting experience, but like most unpleasant things, not something I need to do again.

After retrieving our bags we hurry to the metro station and en route Katy explains the more technical aspects of the musical torture we've just endured. At Beijing main train station a flurry of travellers on their way home for the Chinese New Year holiday period are overwhelming the guards who are trying to implement a new ticketing system. Even in the relative grandeur of the capital, the worst aspects of China are gathered together in one disgusting cesspit of snorting, spitting bodies all staring in our direction. By now we are counting down the days to our journey home.

We put down our bags on the floor which we immediately regret as we see one old lady reach deep down within her and gob out a small boulder of phlegm, whilst in front of us a man gets up, bends forward slightly, pinches one nostril and blows out a string of snot into the air in front of him, wiping away any entrails with the back of his hand and wiping it on the sole of his shoe. I feel sick.

Announcements come over the speakers in Chinese - only the numbers on the boards are recognisable and the only way we know what we're doing most of the time.

We're in separate carriages and apart for the first time in 7 months. Otherwise the journey to Taishan is filled with usual train woes of cramped carriages, narrow beds, and rude smelly passengers.

The one good thing about these train journeys is the wake up call - shortly after boarding, the guard will collect your ticket and exchange for a plastic card from a large leather-bound wallet. When the train is approaching your destination, the guard will rudely wake you up and swap back your ticket. Handy.

to be continued......Dean x