Before leaving Dandong altogether for the southern Liaoning Peninsula and Dalian, we took to the country for a couple of days R & R. On a recommendation we went to Fengcheng for a taste of the Dandong type of hot springs resort.
From the advanced publicity I had envisaged a Chinese version of some kind of swanky, luxurious modern resort complex surrounded by flowing meadows, undulating hills, wooded forest* and a pleasant babbling brook. Imagine my disappointment when we arrived to discover nothing resembling a health farm or even an ashram exuding the enlightenment of the Bhagavistawama.
The ‘resort’ was in the middle of the township…a dusty side-street off the main drag, it was a series of rundown, crumbling, grimy buildings not suggesting the hot springs country recuperator I was picturing on the way there.
Not a terrorist attack but a sighter of the free entertainment available from the resort’s room windows
The rooms were equipped with a brace of hot tubs (large, deep bathtubs really) and apparently there were hot springs below the ground pumping up thermal water. I couldn’t personally verify the bona fides of the springs’ healing powers but I took it at face value. In any case, even if the medicinal therapeutic benefits lacked evidence, it was very welcome just to relax and unwind for an hour or so each day in the heated tub. On my travels in China I haven’t encountered many baths in the hotels and appartments I have stayed in.
The local hairdressers’, in better nick than the ‘resort’
Even if it didn’t measure up to my (Western) understanding of a de luxe country hot springs resort, I have to admit that it was certainly a bargain deal and tariff: three meals a day (with the owner family experiencing authentic local tucker at varying odd times), two rooms plus the hot tub facilities for ¥150 per night. Although when the plumbing burst at 3am one night and we ended up almost up to our ankles in water that may or not been from the springs, I did have some fleeting, momentary doubts about our choice. But this can happen anywhere at any time, so I passed it off as part of the experience.
Don’t get me wrong, while the resort’s surface appearance and location may not have not been exactly the ticket, and about as far from a top-of-the-range rural resort you can get, the town and surrounding countryside of Fengcheng did have a certain attraction. A sleepy little Chinese backwater hamlet during the day, takes on a lively night-time ambience with the constant blare of street music reverberating up and down the main street of the town.
Fengcheng’s natural environs (just a leisurely stroll from the built-up area) have a lot to offer in the way of walks through wilderness, viewing pleasant rivers and streams and some dazzling local fauna. All in all our brief sojourn in Fengcheng was a chill-out, low-key diversion from the urban tourist trail. 
Fengcheng, Liaoning province, is about 35 miles or so north-west of the city of Dandong
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* the best kind of forest!
Before coming to Dandong, my only exposure to China’s greatest human-made wonder was a day visit years ago to the Mutianyu section of the Great Wall near Beijing. So I was interested while in Dandong in taking the opportunity to see a very different and quite remote section of this greatest of walls. I also relished the chance to experience a section of 长城 that would not be maxed out with zillions of formicating tourists. Visitors often complain that seeing the Wall at the more popular sections like Mutianyu, Juyong Pass or Jiankou entails having to manoeuvre round countless numbers of slow-moving or immobile walkers, thus taking the gloss off the unique Chángchéng experience.
We toured the Hushan section (about 15km north-east of Dandong) on a warm midsummer’s day. At the entrance gates to the site (a pseudo-ancient wall edifice created to create the ambience of a historic wall structure), the process of entry was fairly seamless, our tickets, pre-arranged, were purchased on the spot and we moved through the turnstiles and were funnelled into waiting transporters. From there we were whisked off to the start-point (about 700m distance from the gate), passing ambling visitors and a large heroic sculpture positioned about half-way to the Wall’s first part. The tourist start-point contains an impressively restored main tower (the two-storey gate tower).
On the structure itself there was a steady stream of inquisitive visitors eager to climb and explore the Tiger Mountain Great Wall. Well patronised but nothing like the “Boxing Day” crowds and queues in the Beijing district Walls. The only part of the Wall where a slight bottleneck eventuated was two-thirds of the way up to the summit where we had to line up (in a fairly orderly and polite fashion for a Chinese queue) to climb a set of very steep and narrow stairs. Once past there, there wasn’t any further encumbrances impinged on a very smooth climb to the Wall’s highest point.
The authorities don’t want anyone to ‘kindle’ the Great Wall
As I expected, some of the Wall’s floor surfaces were in better condition than others, but it was all still perfectly walkable. From the highest lookout point there are commanding views across the border into the uniformly wide, unpopulated fields of North Korea. The descent down from the summit is mostly very steep and winding. At the foot of the stairs on the eastern (border) side is a raised battlement area containing the relics of a couple of mounted guns that are several centuries past their use-by date.
By Great Wall standards Tiger Mountain isn’t a particular long section compared to others, but it still provided a reasonably testing walk in the hot summer of August even for those of reasonable solid fitness. On the descents especially, there was some steep, narrow and tricky steps requiring a careful and steady step. At the end of the walk, at the car park right on the PDRK border, there is a statue of some significance and nearby two strategically positioned refreshment outlets competing for your business. After a energy sapping morning’s climb there were many takers for a cool beverage. For those of us on an organised tour, a pick-up bus arrived within ten minutes to take us back the start-point, from where we were relayed back to the main gates by a “people mover”.
There is a row of souvenir stalls adjacent to the entrance wall building but unfortunately we were denied a chance to peruse the Wall-related merchandise as we were whisked off again back to the tour bus. If you continue past the Hushan site for a couple of kilometres on the winding Provincial Road north, there are several good vantage points on the side of the road from which to take good, unobscured long shots of the highest watchtowers on the Wall peering out from the mountain’s canopy.
From our mid-city hotel in Dandong we took a tour upcountry following the river road (S319) into Hushanzhen and beyond. At the northern outskirts of the city we stopped for our first glimpse at the Korean side of Yalu Hé. The spot we stopped at contained a memorial to the Korean War sacrifices (two statues of heroic Chinese servicemen) and a stall hawking the usual military-themed momentos and souvenirs. The crossing point here to North Korea was fairly narrow and was marked by the barely existing remnants of an old wooden bridge (the bridge itself was long gone with a few rotting planks visible where the posts of the bridge once stood). Little could be seen on the other side, a wasteland of grasses and vast meadows.
After a mandatory stop at Tiger Mountain to see the Hushan Great Wall (see separate blog), we ventured on to lunch at a pleasant roadside restaurant, one that specialises in the tourist trade, shuffling bus loads of lunching tourists in and out swiftly to capitalise on high turnover profitability. 
Further up the river we stopped again at another bridge, this one with stronger historical overtones of the Korean conflict. This bridge bore some similarities with the famous Dandong Broken Bridge in that it was also a disconnected structure. From the Chinese shoreline it looked like a normal bridge, but once on it you soon realised that it jutted out only about two-thirds of the way to the opposite mainland, ending suddenly and abruptly in the middle of the Yalu river! Many, many Chinese tourists took the stroll along the length of the abridged bridge reading the Korean War information boards on the side as they went. Having reached the point where the bridge ended, it was obligatory for all to pull out phone cameras and take photos of themselves with the North Korean remote countryside as a backdrop. 
In what seemed almost conspiratorial, the North Koreans on the other side had truncated their bridge in a similar manner (although what there was of it was not as long as the Chinese one). I have no notion as to why these two sides of the bridge don’t connect or why they were at some stage severed, but I’m sure there’s a back story to it, if I could avail myself of the necessary Mandarin. 
The site has plenty of tourists stalls, as well as an amicable fellow dressed in Korean War era uniform with a blackened face and a rifle who provided ‘atmosphere’ for the historic site, making himself available to tourists for ‘authentic’ looking photos. Next to the bridge there was a wharf from where we took a long boat trip out into the river. The boat charted a course around the waters veering into North Korean territorial waters…we got close enough to the Korean mainland to make out farms, the occasional building, a handful of motor vehicles, but saw precious few actual North Koreans. 
Our boat passed a desolate fishing boat reeling in its net in the windy waters and eventually disembarked at an another point down the river where we were entertained by an all-female music concert which included both Chinese singers in traditional costumes and a girl pop band with members dressed in a kind of retro-Sixties’ outfit. Back at the wharf we returned to the bus for the long drive back down the S319 through Kuandian County, reaching the outskirts of Dandong just in time to join the afternoon gridlock on Binjiang East Road.
Dandong in China’s North-eastern Liaoning province is 541 miles from Beijing, but only some 105 miles from Pyongyang, North Korea’s seldom seen capital. But Dandong is much, much closer to North Korean soil as a visit to the most eastern city in China’s Dong-Bei will confirm. From Dandong’s shoreline on the Yalu River, the Peoples’ Democratic Republic of Korea (PDRK) is just the distance of one short bridge away. 
We, like millions of Chinese visitors from other parts of the vast country, paid the admission fee (¥30 per head) to tour the bridge open to the public
At night the Broken Bridge is at its most visually striking as the bridge cascading into a revolving spectrum of colours. Climbing on to the bridge itself (draped in Chinese flags) during the day allows visitors, some in guide-led tour groups, more opportunity to study the bridge’s intricacies in detail. The swing bridge signage contains detailed information explaining its unusual engineering specifics, a “Unique Horizontal-Opening Beam Bridge” (a special thrill for civil engineering tragics and graduating Lego enthusiasts alike). 
The bridge was very well attended on the afternoon/evening we visited, everyone making their way to the famously truncated section of the bridge to survey the damage close-up. The end-point, with people jostling for prime position, is also the best spot to peer into the “Hermit Kingdom” of North Korea, home of the colourfully unstable President Kim. Just across from here is the “ghost town” like city of Sinuiji…at night bereft of lights, and during the day scarcely little to be seen, a scattering of seeming abandoned grey old buildings, a strange orange dome-shaped structure that catches the eye and a dilapidated Ferris wheel, and precious little else. Eerily it is seemingly also bereft of observable human life. An added nationalistic touch for very many of the Chinese visitors was to snap a selfie with both the red Chinese flag and the Sinuiji “still-life” backdrop.
Of course back in Chinese Dandong you can find a North Korean presence right here. Several of the restaurants in riverside Binjang Middle Road are North Korean (run perhaps by economic refugees who had once taken the chance to hop over the Yalu at some point to find more profitable trade and opportunity on the Chinese side).