When I visited the eastern part of Liaoning province earlier in the year I was intrigued by the contrast between tourist-centric Dandong with its buzzing, thriving commercial activity on the Chinese side of the border, and Sinuiju, looking nondescript on the other side of the river in the People’s Democratic Republic of Korea. The latter city, with no signs of human life visible from our vantage point, seemed like a moribund blimp of a town by comparison with the Chinese city.
This was nowhere more apparent that after nightfall…the luminous lights and noise of Dandong with its riverside markets, its bridges a kaleidoscopia of colours, and its countless, neon-signed restaurants (some of which are North Korean) were a world apart from the virtually pitch-dark ‘nothingness’ on the North Korean side. Gazing across at the uniform greyness, I speculated that Sinuiju could nary ever have been more inconspicuously camouflaged, even at the height of the Korean War conflict.
The ‘view’ across the Yalu ▼
My appetite whetted, I wanted to delve a bit more of the mystery of the “Hermit Kingdom”, so long cloaked in secrecy to the outside world. A subsequent boat trip up the Yalu left me little more enlightened about what life looked like across the border. Although our hire vessel got pretty close at times to the North Korean mainland, there was a bland homogeneity to what I could see…miles and miles of attractive but uninhabited hills and meadows, pockets of farmed land, the odd isolated building, a few roads, the occasional vehicle, but hardly a human to be sighted!❈
Touring Changbai County
Having planned from the start to include Changbai Mountains on my itinerary of the North-East tour, I was (mildly) hopeful that its proximity to the border might offer up new opportunities for North Korea-watching.
The Changbai border towns on the Chinese side are quite remote and relatively lightly populated (most of the internal tourists skip straight past them and make for the much vaunted mountains themselves). All along the Yalu river border between the two countries, there were no Korean border posts or guards in sight. The river itself was the only buffer (no barbed wire fences like I saw north of Dandong). It occurred to me that this un-patrolled, quite narrow and innocuous-looking waterway would not pose much of a challenge to any impoverished North Korean determined enough to escape to the Chinese side in pursuit of a better and more prosperous life. It wasn’t hard for me to imagine Korean refugees clandestinely slipping across the river border and being absorbed into a community with which it already had cultural and linguistic affinities.
Having hired a Baishan taxi for the day, we visited several of these border villages on route S303. Here I got a chance to see just much Korean culture had permeated the border and river into China. At one point on the river near Maluguo Town, we stopped at a spot where some peasant farmers had laid out their bright harvest of red peppers on the wall to dry (and to sell). This was part of a little trading post peddling various little North Korean trinkets and knicknaks.
The Korean changgu, integrated into Changbai County public sculpture and municipal utilities ▼▲
Korean influences on Changbai County
While here, I bought some North Korean currency packaged in a passport-type folder. The value of the North Korean notes and coins (chon) amounted to over ₩1260. As it cost me only CN¥20 to buy, I figure that’s pretty indicative of how low regard the North Korean won is held in round these parts!
I found other symbols of Korean culture near the roadside stalls, some in a form that surprised – such as the local public rubbish bins, painted vividly red and green and in the shape of the changgu (a traditional Korean hour-glass shaped double drum). I didnt see any women in the street wearing hanboks (traditional, formal vibrantly-coloured Korean dresses), although I did see them being worn later at Changbai on the mountain.
Model Korean village ▼
Continuing on for a few hundred yards we stopped at Guoyuan Village, a tourist an attraction in border country which houses a model Korean village. The village consists of some basic Korean log timber dwellings, a backyard produce garden and a well. The adjoining Korean-style gardens contains a pleasant stream with an agricultural water-wheel with a scattering of sculptures. We stayed here about an hour, wandering the gardens and taking photos. Curiously the place was deserted, we were the only visitors here, no staff around either (though there was a Korean restaurant at the front of the village). Suffice it to say it was a very peaceful and serene setting and a very pleasant diversion.
Heroic scenes from Chinese history ▲
Leaving Guoyuan and driving east along the river, there are many points which you can stop at to gain excellent vantage points of North Korea. On the way to Changbaishan we paused at quite a number of such spots. At two that we stopped there were viewing platforms and towers have been specifically constructed to provide a window into the Hermit Kingdom◓. On of the wall of one these long raised viewing platform was a large sculptural composition done in bas relief form and depicting what looked like epic sagas drawn from Chinese imperial history.
Spying on the North Koreans? ▲
Imitation Great Wall and scenic North Korean peak ▲
On the road running parallel with the river there is a long but not very high wall designed to resemble the “Great Wall”. From the many high points along the wall you can get clear, uninterrupted views across the Yalu to the North Korean grassy peaks and farmlands. At a couple of points on the river we came upon a few villages and small industrial towns with antiquated, grimy factories and workshops. Overall it tended to look a bit drab, though there were some houses and residential blocks that were brightly painted.
A pagoda-roofed border site for scenic views of the DPRK▼
Footnote: Yalu River border
Yalu is a Manchu word meaning “the boundary between two countries” and the river indeed represents the lion’s share of the modern border between DPRK and PRC (the other portions of the Sino-North Korean boundary comprise the Tumen River and a small slab of the Paektu/Changbai Mountain. The river is 795 km in length and contains around 205 islands, some owned by China and some owned by North Korea. At its southwestern end it empties into the Korea Bay between Dandong and Sinuiju. The Yalu is also known as the Amrok or the Amnok River.
〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣〣
❈ there was a similar outcome when I visited Hushan Tiger Mountain Great Wall, which from its highest towers you can see deep into North Korea and seemingly endless acres of pastures and meadows
◓ in fact at one of the viewing structures there were binoculars set up on tripods allowing you to zoom in on the Korean town activity(sic) just across the water
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. 
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.
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
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.