When my friend and I set off for a relaxing walk along the Great Wall, we thought

it would be an easy day free from pollution and profit seekers. But I should have known that wherever you go, the money-makers will be there to get you.

Ben and I boarded a bus to Miyun, from where we planned to take a second bus to Jinshanling, the starting point for a walk along the Wall to the tourist spot, Simatai.

At Miyun we tumbled out onto the side of a huge, busy road. Immediately a gaggle of taxi drivers were upon us. "Simatai, Simatai?" they crowed. We wanted to get a bus, so we pushed our way through the group.

We didn't know where the bus stop was, so we went into a nearby hairdressing salon to ask. Just at that moment a wild-looking taxi driver burst through the door. When we explained that we wanted to get a bus to Jinshanling, the hairdressers and the taxi driver shook their heads. "No bus today," they said.

We were suspicious, assuming the taxi driver just wanted our custom. But, admittedly we were clueless and therefore easy prey. The canny taxi driver knew this and pursued us when we walked off down the road.

He said he could give us a very good deal, and set about proving this by writing complicated equations on a cigarette packet, trying to prove that given the petrol cost and the distance, he was offering us the "best price".

We gave in and took the taxi. The chain-smoking taxi driver sped to Jinshanling, overtaking all other cars en route, with the radio blasting all the way.

We arrived in one piece at Jinshanling and set out on the walk. It was a clear day and there were few people around. It appeared we had escaped the pollution.

We had not escaped the profit-seekers, however. At each fortress along the way, there was a wizened old person ready to ply us with Coke and beer and sell us retro red-starred caps.

The persistence of these elderly folk matched that of the taxi driver. One old man, in a long green coat and green cap, asked us if we wanted a drink. We refused but chatted with him and discovered he was 72. I wondered how he got up here with all his coke and beer. I was puffing at less than half his age.

We walked on but just moments later there was a patter behind us and we turned to see the 72-year-old, arms outstretched, with a can of coke in one hand and a beer in the other. Wheezing, he offered us a drink once more. Fearing he might actually keel over from the effort, we hurriedly dug out our money and bought the cans.

Back in Simatai we met a man who said we could get a bus to Miyun. He also said that there were buses running from Miyun to Jinshanling and we should have been able to get one that morning.

It seemed our taxi driver had lied. We were wondering whether to ditch him and take the bus, but hesitated because he had already taken us half the journey and we'd paid him nothing. As we pondered our next move, our taxi driver suddenly appeared, grinning.

Feeling a bit uncomfortable and a tad guilty, we piled into the car.

I had had a fun day and concluded the fare was not enough to worry about, whether there had really been a bus alternative or not.