“ SPEEDING ACROSS THE GOBI In September, when the kaoliang has ripened to its purple-red, there is added beauty to the eight-hour climb from Peking, by leisurely Chinese train, through Nankow Pass and the Great Wall, to Kalgan. Beyond that treeless, mountain-girdled city the railway turns sharply westward, timidly keeping within the outer spur of China’s mammoth rampart, and the traveler to the vast open world to the north must abandon it for a more courageous form of transportation. ”
Summary
"Wandering in Northern China," an anonymous travel narrative, explores the rugged landscapes and cultural encounters of early 20th-century northern China, focusing on journeys from Peking to Urga. The text vividly portrays the challenging travel by rickshaw, cart, and palanquin, emphasizing the endurance of porters and the stark beauty of barren regions.
Through interactions with lamas, missionaries, and local workers, it contrasts the harsh realities of rural life with the determination of its people, while underscoring the isolation of foreign travelers in a land defined by mud, dust, and sparse vegetation. The work captures the tension between human perseverance and the unrelenting landscape, offering a moving depiction of a region undergoing transformation.
Quotes from Wandering in Northern China ()
“ Fewer people were working in the larger and less garden-like fields; the village roofs thatched with rice-straw had a flatter, smoother look than the homes of Japanese peasants; the towns themselves seemed to huddle together as closely and inconspicuously as possible, as if to escape, or join in resisting, the rapacious tax-gatherers of the olden days that are not forgotten. Koreans in white, their inevitable color, so rare in Japan, were everywhere, though more often in the shade of villages or rare wayside trees or huts than out in the baking sunshine. ”
“ Moreover, the straw mattings are neither sun- nor dust-proof, and while one may in time and with patience learn either to sleep or to read in a litter, in spite of the camel-like motion varied by a sudden disconcerting lurch every quarter-hour or so, when the plodding driver outside concludes that the poles need leveling on one or the other mule, the average traveler is more apt to pass his time drowsily gazing at the plethora of red pompons and trappings on his lead-mule and listening to the monotonous tinkling of his bell. Litter-riding is an art that must be learned. ”
