I Left My Heart in the Paws of Kim J: Dandong Part 3

TWELVE WONDROUS, RESTFUL HOURS LATER.

After what might be the best sleep I have ever gotten, the next morning we headed to the Tiger Mountain Great Wall. The actual wall has been restored and lacks the remote locale and ancient feel of other sections of the wall. However, this area's biggest draw is that its peak looks out onto North Korea. We climbed stair after stair along with busloads of Chinese tourists. Yet we made it up much faster than any of them. I was starting to feel so accomplished...that is until I looked down.

Tiger Mountain rises out of the mist.

I had come prepared to hike, wearing nothing less than my very stylish running shoes. The Chinese women, on the other hand, were wearing sundresses and heels. Not like cute little wedges, but pumps--4 inch heels that would cause me to lose my balance on flat ground. If foot-binding is really a thing of the past, why on earth do these women insist on torturing their feet?

4-inch pumps are OBVIOUSLY a good idea when the stairs look like a sheer cliff.

Well, largely due to what I guess would cause slight (read: EXTREME) discomfort, most of the Chinese turned around after reaching the highest point. Not us. We continued on the path down the other side of the mountain--the side that faced the Yalu River estuary. The trail quickly morphed into an obstacle course, with bad footing and tight squeezes that required all of our attention. We were so focused that we didn't even realize where we were until we were up against a barbed fence. The fence was marked with a sign, proclaiming that this was the National Border of the P.R.C. and the D.P.R.K. Past the fence was the river and the North Korean side's fence. After asking my friends whether the the river could be considered North Korean land (they said yes), I sprinted down towards it and placed my foot in it (really my shoe: I want to go to North Korea, not get some freakish disease from contaminated water. Duh). So my right foot's been to North Korea. Has yours? Didn't think so.

There was a warning sign before this bridge. When something in China is considered dangerous, it's probably LETHAL.

Notice: 1)INTENSE; 2)It's in English. Obviously it's the Americans, not the Chinese, who would want to cross the border.

Requisite artsy shot through barbed wire.

Yeah. That's North Korea. NBD.

I might have stayed there or waded out deeper into the water if I hadn't spotted a small hut a couple hundred meters inland on the North Korean side.

"I just saw two people move in that hut" 魏德 warned.

My first reaction was to ignore him...that is until I remembered a line from my Lonely Planet guidebook: "Close up, the border fence on the DPRK side looks like a less-then-effective barrier, but don't try to test it; a gun-toting soldier may suddenly appear"...Yeah, I think I'll pass on that gun-toting soldier. So I removed my foot and headed back onto the trail.

I spy with my little eye...A SPY!

The trail weaved alongside the river, eventually bringing us back to the parking lot, where we hailed cabs and headed back to Dandong. After lunch and an intense Tesco run (15 hours on a train=breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks), we walked to the buxing jie, Dandong's pedestrian street. The street was filled with people shopping and old Chinese people dancing. Halfway down the street was a zhenzhu naicha--Bubble Tea--stand with literally hundreds of flavors, including Watermelon, Blueberry, Coffee, Peanut Butter, Green Tea, etc... Being the indecisive person I am, it took me forever to decide on a flavor. And obviously I chose the original flavor...it's name is even diyi weidao, #1 flavor.

Buxing Jie: home to bubble tea, elderly Chinese people dancing, and puppies.

Sipping my tea and strolling down the road, my eyes zoomed in on a crate holding 4 balls of fluffy adorableness: PUPPIES! Eyes wide and mouth open I ran over to the dogs and began to blubber about how cute they were. My mind was moving a million miles a minutes, and pretty soon I had my plan all figured out:

I would name the dog Kim J--the obvious choice--and he would sit on my lap for the 15 hour train ride. Then I would hide him in my dorm in Harbin for four weeks. I'm pretty sure my budget for food under the Light Fellowship could cover Kim J and I, so that would be no problem. The no-pets rule at the dorm could be overlooked because I would hide him in my backpack whenever I took him outside. And when he starts to grow, I can transfer him to my massive hiking pack. He would have to be quarantined once we returned to the US, but after that we would live happily ever after in my dorm back at TD...

"BUT..."

With that fatal word, my dreams of happiness were crushed by my so-called friends. But it would be too difficult. But I would get in trouble. But the 15 hour train ride would be impossible. But, but, but, but, but....

(SIGH)

After a long, painful, parting embrace, I kissed Kim J goodbye and walked away, leaving my heart in his adorable little paws.

Kim J: I will always love you.

Though still heartbroken during dinner, I began to feel better when we returned to the waterfront to see the light and fountain show. This was Saturday night and even more people were out along the water, dancing and sending red lanterns up into the sky. Yet, however brighter and louder Dandong was, the North Korean side appeared that much more depressing (well real it didn't appear at all...there were still no lights to be seen).

Later that evening we returned to our wonderful beds and said goodnight.

THREE WONDROUS, RESTFUL HOURS LATER.

Yeah, not quite as nice as 12 hours. But our train was at 6:40AM, so we had to be up to check out at 5:30. We got to the train station and the time to board arrived. The miserable ride to Dandong flashed across my mind and my entire body winced. You know those scenes in horror movies where you see the characters open the door and walk into what's obviously a haunted house, and all you're thinking is, "Don't do it! How could you be so stupid?"...Well that's what my conscience was saying as a sat back down in my yingzuo hardseater.

The ride, though much more tolerable than to Dandong, was still 15 hours. I went through the phases of discomfort, stiffness, cabin fever, delirium, and finally ecstasy when we finally rolled into the Harbin station at 9:30PM.

Overall, the weekend was incredible in every way. I didn't make it into the heart of Pyongyang, but I saw North Korea (and my foot entered the country). All I know is when it comes to Dandong, I'll be back. And until then, don't mind me if I create a DIY North Korean passport stamp.

From North Korea with Love. Kim and I 4eva.