The Ultimate Dream - by railway to China in 1987

Bruce Connolly 2020

Travel combining a strong passion for geography has been with me since childhood. My preferred mode, rail. Indeed a fellow Scot, Robert Louis Stevenson, commented in 1876, 'There are many ways of seeing a landscape quite as good (as walking) but none more vivid ….than from a railway train’. Like Stevenson, I often felt that ‘travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive’. 

The train, there is something romantic about transcontinental overland journeys. The feeling of being, for example, at Moscow’s Yarosavl Station, knowing that boarding a train there I could reach China or the Pacific many days later. Having previously undertaken several such lengthy journeys, particularly in North America, the ‘Ultimate Dream’ for me was to travel by rail, overland (except for a short sea crossing) from my native Scotland, the destination being Hong Kong.

Such a journey, often at a leisurely pace, would enhance a sense of scale, of distance, while watching Europe gradually morph into Asia. Of appreciating changing topography, observing the appearance of people, indeed meeting and sharing friendship with those from different lands.

By the evening of 19th July the train was approaching the border between Mongolia and China. From Moscow the route east was via the Trans Siberian Railway to Ulan-Ude, the Trans-Mongolian south via Ulan Bator and onwards to China across the Gobi Desert. The latter followed an ancient tea caravan route. Construction dating from 1947, rail tracks linked at the Chinese border town of Erlian in 1955. This created a more direct way from Moscow to Beijing than the longer journey via Harbin in northeastern China’s Heilongjiang. 

Trans-Mongolian Railway Ulan Bator Mongolia 2001

Having crossed several borders over the previous two weeks I wondered how it would be entering China. Then there was very little background information except some on Beijing or Shanghai.

 Erlian bore no resemblance any concept I had of China for it really was just a small desert oasis, created within an almost inhospitable landscape simply to handle mainly cross-border rail traffic. Looking back at my notes, I had commented on how relaxed the arrival felt. There were many coloured lights around the platform, music interspersed by announcements was relayed through loudspeakers. Formalities were quick, polite and I am thinking it was so simple when into the compartment came medics in white coats and hats asking me to fill in a health questionnaire followed by a brief check on my condition. I was told later that there was considerable concern then of HIV/AIDS coming into China, just like the COVID-19 checks that happen today! 

I noticed a Chinese gent smiling from the corridor. “Where are you from?” he enquired. “Scotland.” Immediately a handshake with a phrase I have never forgotten, “Welcome to China. You are welcome!”. Mr Li, was returning to Beijing from a posting in the former East Berlin. Speaking excellent English, he mentioned we would be at Erlian for probably two hours, allowing ample time for him to introduce me to something really fascinating about the railway. “Stay with me, don’t go down on to the platform”. Slowly the train started moving backwards, a steam engine shunting and whistling as it pushed the coaches into a large shed. We climbed down to the trackside, the train gradually being jacked up, bogies removed, new sets pushed into place by workers dressed in blue overalls. Mr Li explained, “Here they change the wheels” - an iconic feature of this railway line. China runs on standard-gauge tracks while Mongolia uses the wider Russian system.

Changing wheel bogies at Erlian Inner Mongolia 1987

Through the darkness, we walked back alongside the tracks to the platform where I stood for a while, listening to the music, it was a warm dry evening. I reflected back to earlier cross-border stops on this journey. So different, having to stay on the train and frustratingly no photography in 1987. What I was starting to experience in China certainly felt surprisingly relaxed.

Bilingual announcements, the train for Beijing would soon depart. Time to return to my compartment. However I had little sleep as I kept looking out trying to get glimpses of the country, but there was very little settlement in that area, few lights. However, during the night the train passed through Jining (Ulanqab) joining the Beijing-Baotou line. Dating back to the 1920’s that railway had connected with trading routes from across northwestern China, carrying cargoes down to the capital previously transported by camel caravans.

As dawn broke, I went along for breakfast, a Chinese car had replaced the Mongolian one. Rice porridge, tea and bread before we pulled into the large industrial city of Datong.

Onto the platform, I watched as a carriage attendant cleaned our compartment windows. I would be glad of this for the remaining journey that day became a series of outstanding highpoints.

Datong Railway Station, Shanxi 1987 - carriage attendant cleaning compartment windows

We were heading east along a wide fairly dry valley. Donkeys grazed beside braided water channels. There was little sign of any modern technology. Crops, possibly maturing wheat, grew back from the waters. The land, particularly distant hills looked very dry, indeed arid except where irrigated.

Semi-dry countryside of northern Shanxi - seen from the train in 1987

This valley historically was a conduit between both Mongolia and parts of northwestern China with Beijing. I was fascinated for along hill slopes to north of the tracks ran extensive mostly adobe-built stretches of the Great Wall. At intervals along the valley floor stood remains of several former frontier towns enclosed within massive earthen walls, corner watchtowers clearly visible. Northern Shanxi where the line was winding through, historically had many such settlements for not only was the valley a conduit for wartime invaders but also carried vital trading routes. 

Earthen walls around a former town on the trade route through northern Shanxi 1987

Time was spent chatting with Mr Li in his compartment about the landscape we were traversing, of the famed Yellow Earth (loess), the not too far away Yellow River and indeed China and what should I expect in Beijing. This time he commented, “You are welcome, to Beijing!” 

I was thinking also of how different China was already appearing to my then limited perceptions of the country. At university in Scotland, China Pictorial magasines would appear in the library. The images, mostly monochrome, were from the Mao Zedong era, depicting everyone wearing the same uniformity and colour of clothes. By 1987, the conformity of 15 years earlier had mostly gone - instead, a wide variety of styles, bright colours although many men tended to wear white shirts. Images we saw of the country would feature the Great Wall, Temple of Heaven, Terracotta Warriors while city shots maybe the Bund at Shanghai but very little of the vastness of the country. Yet, in Shanxi it was lightly populated and quite arid away from river valley bottoms. I was slowly realising how little I actually knew of China. Also the language spoken, Putonghua, so different to the Cantonese dialects familiar back in Scotland and interestingly, people generally were taller.

Zhangjaikou, the next major stop is today a host for the 2022 Beijing Winter Olympics. Historically the town was once enclosed by strong walls reflecting troubled moments it had witnessed. Hostile invasions were once a threat along the corridor, where Zhangjiakou sits. Historically it had been a major trading hub known also as Kalgan. It was the last major town before the strategic crossing at Badaling, a gateway down to Beijing. In 1987 Zhangjiakou appeared as a major centre of industry and power generation then dependent on coal. Indeed along the line my train was following, lengthy freight trains regularly passed carrying coal south to China’s major cities. Today a relatively new railway between Datong and the coastal port of Qinghuandao facilitates a continual movement of coal for onward transfer by bulk carrier vessels to east central China

 As we crossed a bridge over extensive Guanting Reservoir, returning to the dining car I experienced my first umpteen course lunch washed down by ‘warm’ Tsingtao beer.! Cuisine so different to the norms of Chinese food back in Scotland. I was starting to feel refreshed, indeed enjoying the experience. Meanwhile music was periodically relayed over loudspeakers throughout the train, interspersed with announcements for the upcoming stations.

Section of the Great Wall at Badaling Pass seen from the train1987

Passing the Kangxi grasslands with its scattering of white circular recreational yurts the line was gradually climbing. We entered a tunnel to emerge where the Great Wall ran along slopes and ridges above the tracks. This was the Badaling Pass, an incredible vista keeping me busy with camera. Then we stopped at a small station. Initially I wondered why? It was Qinglongqiao (Green Dragon Bridge). Over the intercom came the story of Zhan Tianyou, known as ‘Father of China’s railways’, head engineer on the country’s first domestically engineered line that connected Beijing with Zhangjiakou. Constructed between 1905 and 1909 the railway eventually extended onwards to Baotou, significantly speeding up trade movements. Here we were, a short distance north of Beijing, experiencing one of the greatest moments of the entire journey from the UK - descent through the pass, initially by a switchback rail system. The gradient near Qinglongqiao railway station was 3.3%.

Descending Badaling Pass towards Beijing 1987

Continuing past massive wall and fortification structures the train emerged onto the flat plain at Nankou where a secondary locomotive, at the rear, was decoupled. Mountainous topography disappearing behind, the train speeded up across mostly agricultural landscape scattered with some coal-powered industrial sites. Increasing signs of urbanisation heralded the outer suburbs of Beijing. The line followed a circuitous route northeast of the city before swinging west, alongside the Tonghui River, passing below a grand Ming Dynasty watchtower from the former city walls. Minutes later, exactly on time, we rolled into the vast 1950’s Beijing Railway Station (my schedule indicated Peking!!)

Passengers from Moscow-Beijing train disembarking at Beijing 1987

Music interspersed with announcements was played over platform speakers. Disembarking, I watched , with fascination, fellow passengers who had left Moscow a week previously. Some carried electrical goods such as TV sets brought overland from Europe. Others were backpackers, young adventurers seeking out their personal China experiences. At that time, 1987, however only a few places were open for individual travel. Through a lengthy passageway arrivals emerge out into a busy station concourse. Crowds were gathered with their bags , ready to go on journeys of several days across China. At that time, this was the city’s only major railway station. Some stared curiously at the westerners for we had all disembarked from one of the few international connections at that time. There were very few direct flights, those wanting to reach northern China, many would come by this train.

Concourse of Beijing Railway Station 1987

I looked up at the station facade. It represented a mixture of Soviet architectural style with Chinese characteristics, something I would become familiar with not only in Beijing but in other cities across the country. Interestingly, there were large billboards alongside the station courtyard, adverts for Japanese video cameras!

I would be staying at the Friendship Hotel which then felt a considerable distance from downtown. From the bus taking me there I was transfixed at the scenes unfolding. Many bicycles crowded the roads but not the density of earlier years when there were possibly 9 million within Beijing. Mivans were common, public buses, often electric-powered, were numerous. Indeed there was a real mix of different users all competing for space on the roads and pavements. We continued out towards Haidian, partly on a very quiet expressway (today’s Erhuan) reaching the hotel located in a northern university area. Again I could detect some Soviet influences in its architectural style.

Friendship Hotel Haidian Beijing 1987

After another great dinner, I retired to a rooftop outdoor bar for cold drinks (at last!) as the sun started setting over the Western Hills. It was also time to phone back to Scotland - calls had to be booked in advance through the hotel operator. “Where are you now?” “Beijing” I replied. “Where?” “Oh, Peking, arrived this afternoon” It was time to head back up to the rooftop bar, to sit alone as darkness fell, trying to recap the different stages of the journey, of the people I had met, of Mr Li’s “Welcome, you are welcome in China

With Mr Li alongside international train to Beijing 1987

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Bruce Connolly Photography